Dana Reid, the reporter of this story, seems to have requested and been given access to the enrollment records; I was unable to locate a court order granting her access, but these were looser times. Finding nobody named Siraj, she remarked, parenthetically: “Action News found no student by this name on the rolls for the 1986–87 school year.” She touched then on competing theories of the case—former tenants with an ax to grind; criminals occupying an abandoned property; crack is mentioned several times: in the eighties you could get away with blaming almost anything on crack—before returning the broadcast to its anchors.
There’s a lot I’d like to ask this student whose name Action News couldn’t find, but he’s lost to us. It’s almost impossible to get clarity on early details like these, especially when the facts have been so successfully obscured by Siraj’s later life within the febrile imagination of the public—or within, I should say, that small slice of the public that still follows stories like these after they’ve dropped off the front page, the people who can’t help but be curious about details left out of the news reports; and who, denied such details by miserly detectives and cowardly reporters, fill in the blanks themselves as best they can.
4
Song of Gorbonian
the life and works of
Gorboniaw map Morydd,
known more generally as Gorbonianus, but called, by Geoffrey, in his History of the Kings of Britain,
Gorbonian:
that good king who, in his time, defended the husbandmen against the oppressions of their land-lords; who ruled his kingdom with right justice, and did show mercy to the poor of this land; who shunned adventuring over-seas, preferring, to such sojourns, the happy haunts of his youth, those green boughs and pleasant meadows deemed greater by him than all the exalted halls which house the kings and lords of this world; and who, in the strength of his days, did, of his own enterprise and will, restore an ancient temple, in those groves of mystery which he had loved since boyhood with honor and reverence, a spirit he honored until the end of his days.
1.
Now the birth of Gorbonian was as follows. His father the King, having defended his counties against the Flemish invaders, brought upon the land a time of feasting and plenty; and tribute did issue from the land all round, in gratitude to King Morvidus, who, though his mother had come from some far country, none knew which, did now guard his kingdom from marauders. And the people did say, that there was none so worthy as King Morvidus; and in the richness of his reign, commerce prospered, the town around the castle growing great, and newe fangled habits did arise among the young and old.
But after a time the people did say, that the old customs were gone out from the land; and that, with the coming of the new, the old had been washed away. Greatly did folk rue the passing of their customs, saying, that a kingdom ruled by thankless men, would, in short measure, become a kingdom unremembered; and men did complain, when they gathered, at how few remained who yet could call to mind the noble names of the gods. Those gods, they said, had once sustained this land; but they might forget as well as be forgotten, as would be seen.
And then did the rains begin: those long rains, of which it was sayd, their like had never fallen; and the streams did overflow their banks, and flood the fields. And the ditches filled with mud, overflowing onto the roads, that none might pass in safety. And vermin did breed in the still water by night; and many infants were delivered still-born, for that the rains had so drenched the roadways, that mid-wives might by no means traverse them in their ladies’ time of need. Which seemed a very omen; and some did wonder, how best to please the gods who had served them so.
In this time was delivered of her nine-months’ burden, good Queen Argoel, who in time would bear King Morvidus five children. As the rains battered the castle wall, the child began to kick within her womb, saying,—Mother, my time is come; yet, with the storm still upon the land, she lay abed unattended in her toil.
Alone in her labor, and sore afraid, Queen Argoel gave over her heart in prayer, that the baby might be safely delivered; and she cried out, seeking in her suffering those same gods, whose names she had learned at her grandmother’s knee. Especially, did she call upon Arawn, ruler of the other-world; and no sooner had the goddess-name gone up, but the dam breaks, and the babe is born, and straightaway lets forth a great cry, nor holding back its force. And Queen Argoel, her eyes full with tears, did raise the child to her breast, saying,—The babe too remembers Arawn; hear, how he names Her by Name. And the babe was calmed, and did sup, and then take his rest; wherefore it was sayd thereafter of Gorbonianus, that oft-times he seemed ill at home in this world, and longed for the next.
But lo, above the din of rain pelting the rooftop, the cries of the new-born babe were heard, yet only by some cooks who tarried yet within the walls of the castle; and by these were the Queen and her babe attended. And some do say, that husbandmen from the stables, did also come, for that they loved their Queen. And the night did pass; and thereafter, Queen Argoel did enjoin all who were present, not to speak further regarding the humble circumstances of the child’s birth, on pain of exile; for he alone would be heir to the throne, and, if the mean manner of his appearance in this world were broadcast more generally, it might give rise to rumor.
When the rains had abated, the child was taken in to King Morvidus; who, seeing the babe so hale, its face a very likeness of his own, was heard to say,—Behold, mine own son; he has come to bring cheer to our castle; all that I have shall be his.
And then did the King call for his men, to see his son all pink and round, a-mewling in his mother’s arms; brave Kaswallan did he call, saying,—In all your days my general, have you seen one such as him? And Kaswallan in reply,—No, my liege; he bears the brow of the warrior born; and who would know it but I. Then called the King to his chamber two more: Seisil, who kept the counting-house, and Madauc, his magician; Eadman the strong, who guarded the castle gate, and Saewulf the navigator; and many more did he name, saying, let them come, to see my good prince. And when that his men saw their King all red-cheeked for joy, they clapped their hands to-gether and joined their voices in song, to welcome Prince Gorbonian.
Now Morvidus was greatly moved by their merriment, and listed to them with keen ear; and at last he bid them be silent, saying,—Long will I remember my friends, who came to share this day with me: nor will they want for aught, while I draw breath.
2.
Now shall I tell how young Gorbonian was learned in the ways of piety. As a boy he showed reverence always to gods of the hearth, be they ever so strange; for oft had his mother sayd to him, that a custom only is strange, if that it be one unfamiliar. And she told him, truly were the gods of this kingdom once afoot in these fields; and instructed him in lore long lost.
To the boy, who did love to go all a-wandering, his mother’s words would often return. For sometime in the forest, and betimes by the sea-coast, where caves with bone-white walls did beckon, he might encounter a nest of birds unknown to him, or some fire-pit dug by none knows who, the sand beneath it charred black, or such stones as might be used to scry the shape of future days. And should those stones gleam, or the fire-pit seem to tell some tale, then would he say,—I know this not; and yet does it please me; and so his pockets were often heavy with sticks, or clay, or scraps gathered from along the wayside.
Befell it on a day that Gorbonian sought adventure, and called to his friends in the castle-town,—Ho, good Braith! Come away with me! Ho, Hedyn! Wouldst seek treasure hidden in the hills? For his mother was a good Queen, his Queen a good mother; no child was of too low estate to prove a playmate for her son. But none came, that day; for, they said, the signs were for rain. The spoils of adventure be mine alone! Replied the Prince; and so saying, set out alone, as, to tell plainly, he oft did, wondering that the secrets of the world did best reveal themselves in times of solitude.