Short Story Preview: The Nameless Boys – Josie Arden
This is a true story that took place in Spain in 1959. That may seem a long time ago to you, but in the history of this old world, it was one second ago.
Late one January afternoon in 1959, eleven year old Miguel was sitting on the rocks in the tiny Spanish bay of Nerja, with his brother Antonio, idly throwing pebbles into the choppy sea below. In three more days they would be back in class. Not much to look forward to there.
‘So soon to be prisoners again under old Tyrant Tomazo!’ said Antonio.
‘If only,’ said Miguel, dreamily, ‘if only we could finish our holiday with an exciting adventure.’
‘Some hope in this place!’ replied Antonio, looking scornfully round at the barren landscape. The mountains rose, sheer, out of the sea and, everywhere, dust, splintered grey rocks and sparse, miserable vegetation. A climber would have a hard time of it. Their father, a goatherd, had to travel well inland to find his goats some grazing. It meant he had to be away all day and in the holidays he made each of his sons take a turn at escorting the little team of jostling brown bodies to find food. Then, the boys knew, they must stay with the animals until the dusty journey back at sundown. But, today, on Mama’s insistence, they had been spared.