Justice in the cycle of life
The aspirations and luck of the likeable 'grown boy' known as Jim, and his Scottish past
It is not known who he sailed with. Strange. Nobody ever thought of clearing up that little detail. Not one. A lot of people remembered him as a grown boy. Likeable Jim. Very few recalled that he arrived in Sydney at a very tender age. Four. Most of his friends knew he'd voyaged on a huge steamship. From Scotland. In theory, then, he still technically was one. A Scot. For all practical purposes, however, he quickly became and remained a true-blue citizen of his adopted land. An Aussie.
In his thirties, wishing to be of service to his fellow man in some useful way he filled out an application and mailed it to the proper authorities. A justice. That's what he wanted to be — not a barrister but a justice of the peace, an honour conferred on model, respected citizens, granting such persons, among other things, the legal right to attest or notarise the documents of others.
A shoo-in. That's what some of his friends said when they heard of his aspirations. Easy-peasy. That's what the others said, those that hadn't called it a shoo-in. Jim waited.
The proper authorities, when they responded after a proper time, drew Jim's attention to something. His Scottish past.
"Our records show," said the letter, "that you left Scotland with an unpaid debt that still remains outstanding."
At four? Yes, the letter stated, a bicycle had been hired in his name in Scotland but the hire fee of ten pence remained unpaid and un-expunged to this day more than 25 years later. Ten pence (Dh0.56). This offence, continued the letter, although minor, indeed trivial, constituted a crime in Australia and until it was repaid, it remained a stain on Jim's otherwise unblemished record.
Pay it! So advised some of Jim's friends, from the shoo-in brigade. Piece of cake. Thus said the easy-peasy ones, prone as they were to idiomatic speech that contained food imagery.
Write your grandpa. This wise suggestion from one of Jim's close mates resulted in a letter being penned in haste to Grandpa Angus, in Edinburgh, requesting, "Please, could you settle this ridiculously small amount? I'm trying to become a justice of the peace here in Australia and your help in this regard will be appreciated." Nothing doing. That was grandpa Angus's terse reply, with the addendum: Settle your own debts.
Temporary roadblock. But Jim in a spirit of proactive endeavour, unhesitatingly decided he would pay the fine from Australia itself and wipe the offence against his name.
Post Office Shocked. That could well have been the headline in the newspaper after Jim first attempted to remit ten pence by money order to Scotland. Impossible. Such tiny amounts, Jim was told rather painstakingly, were simply not remittable because the cost of the money order itself would far exceed the ten pence.
By how much? This is the question Jim posed to the post master in return, for by this time, Jim wished to clear his name no matter how much it cost. Ten dollars? A calculator must have been pressed into service, numbers depressed with a calculating finger tip, charges and surcharges added and finally the true startling total amount displayed on the narrow numeric window. A$79.10 (Dh264.67).
One month later Jim received notification from the proper authorities that the debt had been cleared. Mild celebrations ensued. Before another month passed Jim was formally designated justice of the peace. 180 days pass. Then, out of the blue, a letter arrived bearing a foreign stamp and a solicitor's seal. Red and waxy.
The letter, when slit open, informed the reader that his grandfather Angus had died recently leaving his vast estate to his only surviving relative. Jim.
Kevin Martin is a journalist based in Sydney, Australia.
