thanks for reading - Asherman and Edgar
i appreciate it
hope you like this one (tried to make it chilled) :wink:
The Great Escape
"Come in Alec. Sit down. "
The room was tiny. A clock hung on a green wall next to a painting of some crisp-looking sunflowers - brown and dying. If they were meant to cheer people up, I could probably do a better job myself.
Below a window's ledge stood a small table, with two chairs placed either side of it.
The doc sat down in the far chair and crossed one leg over the other.
On the table was a box. It had a leaf of white tissue poking out the top of it. I wondered if the doc had opened the box himself and placed it just so on the table and then, as an afterthought, tweaked the tissue out of its packaging. Go ahead, punk. Make my day.
I sat in the wooden, L-shaped chair and its cushion sank beneath me.
The doc had a clipboard in his hands and was holding up a sheaf of paper to read what was written underneath.
He wore big, gold-rimmed glasses, a thick tie over a grey striped shirt and new black jeans.
Thin yellow hair greased his collar.
"You were picked up by the police... again. Drunk and trespassing at ...,, four o'clock in the morning. "
He raised his chin to look at me and the sun hit the lenses of his glasses, turning them gold. When I didn't respond he looked back at his notes.
"Down by the railway.... again.
"I was walking home. It's the quickest way. "
He gave me another brief look, before he went back to reading sentences I knew he had already digested at least once before.
Bored, I glanced through the window and saw a thin old man in a dressing gown being steered by the elbow towards some steps by a nurse in a woollen cape. The man looked like he might be crying.
"Alec?"
I looked back at the doc.
"I asked you how things are going at home."
"Alright. They seem alright."
"You've been with your new foster parents
"
(he looked down at his papers)
"errr........."
(he turned a page)
"
. a few months now."
"Yeah."
He stared at me. I stared back. When he didn't say anything else, I waited. Finally he reached up, removed his glasses and began to massage the bridge of his nose, his eyes screwing tightly shut.
Outside, the old man was having some sort of breakdown.
I watched as he slowly lowered himself to his knees. The nurse seemed flustered. She looked around, as if for help, before crouching down beside him. I could vaguely hear him now. Not crying, exactly
"
any problems?"
"What?"
The doc put his clipboard to one side.
"Look Alec, if you'd rather we meet at some other time
if you're not in the mood to talk, or whatever, we can leave this until you're ready."
"Fine."
I stood up and left the room.
It seemed a very long way down the corridor to the waiting room, where a security guard stood talking through glass to a smiling middle-aged receptionist.
As I walked past him, he asked her, "?'S your old man picking you up later then, Maggie?"
He saw me and followed me with his eyes as I headed for the main doors. Perhaps he thought I was going to steal the magazines, or start biting the leaves off the various plants dotted about the room.
Outside I stood for a moment amongst the cigarette butts, then went down two steps to the path. The sun was out.
I was looking forward to getting something to eat.
On my way out of the grounds, I passed the doc's window. He was standing with his face pressed up to the glass, looking out. There was a small crowd gathered around the old man now. One of them was a doctor in a white coat, shirt and tie.
The old man was going crazy, screaming and shouting, flinging out his arms and kicking out his legs.
They had him down on the grass and as I watched, an orderly pinned him to the ground.
A couple of women who looked like they were visiting, stood off to one side, watching with curious faces.
"You f*ckers." the old man shouted, "I fought for my country. I want a f*cking cigarette."
Both his slippers had been kicked from his feet and lay separated in the grass.
The two women looked shocked by his verbal outburst and hurried on up the steps and past the doc's window.
I noticed that the doc was no longer on the other side of it.
The old man wasn't screaming anymore.
"Get that f*cking stuff away from me, sonny," he said, as the doctor moved in.
The nurse's voice when it came, was a surprise. Clipped and cold. Horribly patronising:
"Now, now, Mr Tomlinson, that's no way to behave. The doctor just wants to give you something to calm you down
now stop that. Stop it! We need to give you something to stop you hurting yourself, now come on.... Mr Tomlinson... stop fighting us and it will be much easier for you."
She sounded about as sincere as a politician.
"Don't talk to me like I'm a f*cking moron. I was at Monte Cassino, you bitch."
I stood back from the scene, watching. Knowing that i was witnessing something you don't get to see every day.
"I just want a cigarette," the old man growled, "Get your f*ckin' hands off me."
"Hold him. Hold him," the kneeling doctor ordered, sounding proficient and almost bored. Then suddenly he was grunting and flying backwards, his stethoscope and tie whipping up over his face. A metal tray and various small objects went shooting into the grass.
The nurse half screamed.
The orderly said, "Oy..." and grabbed at empty air.
The old man was already on his feet. His dressing gown hung open to reveal a scraggy chest with a rose tattoo sagging over his heart. His ribs stood out clearly above pale blue pyjama bottoms. He shrugged off the dressing gown and stood there in his bare feet.
The orderly (who didn't look like the type to stand for any nonsense), went to move on him. From where I stood I could see his red, pissed-off face and I winced, imagining how easily the old man would bruise (maybe even snap) under those grabbing fingers, but nothing like that happened. Instead the old man turned first and grabbed the orderly in the crotch, yelling "Ahhhhhhhhgggghhhh!"
Almost immediately, his victim opened his mouth and joined in with him.
The nurse stepped forward and the old man put out his other hand, laid his palm against her bosom and gave her a sharp shove. She sat down on the grass next to the doctor who appeared to be having trouble getting to his feet. Perhaps he had decided they weren't paying him enough to risk it.
For some reason, I found myself running towards them across the grass. I wasn't sure what I was going to do until I saw the old man break free and make a run for it. Without a pause, I shoulder barged the orderly, sending him spinning.
I overtook the old man heading towards the gates shouting, "This way!" before veering left towards some trees and a small side-gate out onto Gregor Rd.
I didn't look back to see if the old man had followed me until I was on the street. He appeared through bushes, gasping for breath, one hand pressed to his ribs, " Bloody ?'ell. ****."
"You okay?"
He looked me over. "Who the f*ck are you?"
"Come on if you want to get out of here. They'll be coming."
I looked at him shivering and took off my jacket. "Put this on and do it up. "
"Who the f*ck are you?"
"Come on."
"I ain't got nuffin on me feet."
"My mate's parked just up here." I said and got moving.
The old man followed. What else was he going to do?
When we arrived at the clapped out BMW, Todd was standing next to it smoking. I run up and opened a back door, yelling at the old man to get in.
Todd looked at me like I'd reappeared with two heads.
"What the f*ck?" He said.
"It's a breakout." I said and laughed. I couldn't help it. The absurdity of the situation was just starting to hit me.
"Who's he?"
"I dunno," I shouted, running around the car, grinning, "...but he was at Monte Cassino."
"Was that'a film?"
We drove out onto the motorway and stopped at a service station. Todd went off to get burgers while the old man and I sat in the car smoking.
"Is there somewhere we can take you?" I asked him.
He thought about it a moment. "I've got a daughter lives in New 'aven. She ain't no spring chicken 'erself, but she may 'elp me out."
"Do you have her number?"
"No. I ain't seen 'er in
ohh
.seven years
"
"You know her address, though."
"Well, no
but we could look 'er up in the phone book."
"What were they keeping you there for? What d'you do?"
"Overdose. Painkillers. They pumped me out and fed me charcoal. You ever have to drink that gritty stuff?"
"Yes, actually."
He stared at me. His eyes were very pale blue.
"How old are you, sonny?"
"Seventeen. What about you?"
"Seventy-eight."
"You're kidding."
He flicked his cigarette butt through the window and offered me his hand. "Everyone calls me Mick."
After a moments hesitation, I shook. "Alright, Mick? Alec."
"Pleasetameecha."
"Same here."
He frowned at me. "Why d'you do it?"
I thought about it. Shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe I just think a man should be able ta smoke a cigarette if he wants one."
Endymion 2008
Can't take the time to read this just at the moment. I'll try to get around to it by sometime on Sunday.
How is the work proceeding on the novel? That is truly the thing from your pen that I'm most interested in at the moment. You have a very good novel, so don't let it die from neglect.
i hear what you're saying and appreciate it. but that novel isn't easy for me to work on right now. i've read it through for the first time a couple of days ago. I know what i have to do and it isn't a great deal - i'll do it as soon as i can. as soon as i can. - have a good weekend - catch up with you later
Enjoying your writing Endymion.
Hey, Tai Chi
I'm really honoured you'd take the time to read my stuff - and I'm glad to share it with you.
peace, Endy
Endy - I love it. Love Mick. Love the whole scene with the doctors and nurses (for reasons of my own- I've been patronized by doctors myself- once a doctor explained something to me and then asked, "Do you think you can understand what I'm telling you?" I just looked at him and answered, "Yes, believe it or not, I do think I'm capable of grasping that."
And I don't even want to talk about nurses...for reasons of my own
Anyway - love the breakout scene with the guy in the car- great dialogue and characterization.
But the best line was the last one.
I'm sorry to disagree Asherman - but I think he needs to keep this up...if only for me to find out what happens to Mick - is his daughter still around? Will she take him in? What kind of relationship will develop between Mick and Alec?
You see Endy - you have to keep going...
thanks Rebecca - you made me smile
Hey - we've just been given severe storm warnings for this area tonight - so
I'm going to go and check around the place - prepare to batten down the hatches - speak to you later
Train Dreaming
I like riding the outward bound trains at night; journeys with no particular end; lonely stations that slip empty by, and far-off lights, trailing, stretching out across the darkness; my own face a strange ghost riding alongside.
I can sleep on a train. The continuous, drifting motion soothes me and the
murmur of the engine calms me. I relax in its familiarity, gently rocked into submission.
Pulling out of Paddington, Waterloo or Euston Station, leaving London behind
it always feels good. Bright, high-street windows slip far behind, and are replaced by tall brick houses, open playing fields, black trees; until eventually there is only the darkest pitch beyond my reflection.
I am vaguely aware of the murmuring voices of other passengers, as together we ride inside this snaking tube of light, chasing a hidden moon.
I close my eyes and hunch down inside my coat. Speeding through the green, sleeping farmland, dreaming.
Sometimes it feels like a great thing - to be free, to be alone and able to choose. Who needs parents, right? Who needs the f*cking hassle? Todd laughed when I complained about not having any once. He said I could have his bloody mother!
I'm seventeen and I don't have to answer to anyone. I can work where I want, eat what the hell I want, wear what I want; do pretty much what I want to do. Okay, I'm always short of cash and sometimes I feel like I might be an alien from another planet
but the truth is that I don't want to 'belong' either. I work alone. I make my own decisions, for me. Why make close friends? Where can a friend go from being your friend
.other than to being your enemy?
When I wake rocking in the speeding train, I am cold. I wipe the dream from my eyes and see a couple sitting opposite me, the woman with a small child on her knees.
They all three smile at me and I smile back.
Life is lots of things, isn't it? Different things all rolled into one.
*
*
Todd and I were sitting in the car, parked up outside the Co-op. We were watching the telephone box on the pavement a bit further along the road. Inside it, Mick was just a blur. He looked like he was talking to someone
or at least, he had the receiver to his ear and his other hand was waving around.
"We could drive off now and leave him." Todd said.
He tapped the steering wheel with his fingers, leaned in and turned the volume on his car stereo up another notch. Chelsea were playing West Ham at home.
"Come on you 'ammers," Todd sang, half taking the piss.
A woman with bleached white hair hurried across the road in front of us. She was dragging a small boy by the hand.
"You'll do as ya, f*cking told, d'you 'ear, Matthew?"
Her voice was a cruel whip.
I shivered without my coat. The day was turning dark. A slight drizzle suddenly powered into hail, which pelted the car violently until it felt like we were sitting inside a steel drum. After watching ice on the windscreen for a moment, Todd set the window wipers in motion.
"F*cking weather," he moaned. "What's 'e doing in there?"
When I didn't answer, he switched his lights on full for a few seconds. The old man became suddenly visible through the plummeting hail. He turned and scrunched his face up at us and waved a dismissive hand before showing us his back.
Todd dimmed his lights. "I wonder what 'e would do if we drove off, like?"
"I'm not going anywhere without my clobber." I said. I meant it too. My coat was a fairly new purchase, picked up for a fiver at the Army Surplus store, but the doc martins (I'd also leant Mick) were two years old. I'd brought them two sizes too big, when I was fifteen; my feet had grown into them and they were now my most prized possession.
"Fair enough. The old boy's nuts, yeah?"
When I didn't answer, Todd grinned through the windscreen, "He's probably found dial-a-slut and God knows what 'es up to in there."
That got a laugh out of me.
Thunder suddenly boomed overhead, making us both jump. The hail stopped abruptly and for a moment, the sun came out, bright on wet pavements. Then big spots of rain hit the ground and splattered.
"F*cking weather." Todd sighed. "Why can't it just make up its f*cking mind."
I searched through my pockets, found the wallet I'd been given for my birthday and opened it. Inside were a couple of notes. "I've gotta get some booze." I said.
I didn't fancy it without my coat or boots but I knew there was no point asking Todd to do it - he wouldn't leave me here parked on a yellow line, (for a start I wasn't licensed to drive away if a traffic warden or copper showed up) so I reached down and took off my socks, before opening the car door and stepping out.
The kerb was wet beneath my feet and I checked around for dog-****, to be sure that if there was any, I missed it.
"Your both f*cking nuts." Todd yelled, before I slammed the door shut on him and ran for the shop entrance.
*
*
It's a small, quiet place and no one's behind the counter, so I stand on the mat inside the door for a moment or two and let the warm air roll over me. Rain has plastered my hair to my head and I can feel it running down my neck and face. My feet are freezing.
Looking straight down the only aisle, I see a girl walking towards me. Suddenly she is the same girl I'd seen pushing the pram a few weeks ago. The one I upset by saying something stupid to. She doesn't have a pram with her today or the jacket with the peace signs, but I'm sure it's her.
I can't believe it. I've been dreading bumping into her again and suddenly here we are, alone. I look all around. Where the f*ck is the staff?
Standing bare foot, shivering in my shirt, I try to look like I don't care.
She recognises me easily and I see her hesitate. We stare at one another. She starts circling me, giving me a cold look, as if she intends walking out without turning her back on me.
I step closer to the counter, to give her some space, but she turns towards me, and staring at my feet, walks right around me and the counter, to stand waiting. For some reason, it hasn't occurred to me up until now that she might work here.
"What can I get you?" She says, unsmiling. She doesn't sound very happy to see me.
"How about a towel?"
"Raining is it?" She folds her arms.
"No. I just swam the river Thames."
"Very funny, what you training for? The boy scouts?"
For a moment we stand there silent, staring at each other.
"Look what do you want?" She asks.
"One of them small bottles of vodka behind you. The cheapest one."
For a moment she doesn't move. Then her eyes narrow.
"How old are you?"
"Nineteen. What about you?"
Her cheeks turn pink. "Twenty."
I try hard not to gulp. Twenty! I can't believe it. I'm sure I'd seen her around school just last year. Twenty? ****. That's like, well that's practically a woman.
"D'you work here full time?" I ask, just for something to say, watching as she turns and takes down the bottle and starts wrapping it up.
"Hardly."
"Oh."
She rings up the cost.
All of a sudden I 'm trying to pull my wallet out of my jeans pocket, which appears to have shrunk.
"****."
Outside, Todd beeps the horn on the car.
"****."
"That's two pounds, fifty, please." Now I hear a slight note of humour in her voice.
Todd beeps again, impatiently, just as I pull the wallet free.
A fat man in a shirt and tie has appeared beside me, silently, as if from nowhere. His grey hair circles a bald spot on the top of his head - like Friar Tuck, but he isn't smiling. A plastic badge on his pocket says 'Steven Dowby ~ Manager.
I can vaguely hear football commentary coming from somewhere, as if he's left a door open behind him.
"Any problems here?" He asks, giving me the once over with his puffy eyes, like he has reason to believe I might be carrying rabies or something. Maybe he thinks I'm one of the gypsies from the camp under the fly-over. Too skint to buy shoes, like
'Gypos' he probably calls them. Nearly everyone does.
"No problems, Mr Dowby
" The girl says, but before her last word is out, he cuts across her. "How old are you?" he asks me.
"Nineteen."
"Have you seen some proof of age then, Claire?"
Claire shrugs, plays it cool.
"Its alright, Mr Dowby
. I know him," she says.
"Right. Well don't come in here again with nothing on your feet, d'you hear?"
He looks around the floor as if expecting to discover dirty foot prints. Seeing nothing there, he looks back at me, "Get a f*cking life, kid," he says, before turning abruptly and walking back the way he's come.
We watch him in silence, then I turn back to the counter.
"Thanks," I say, exchanging cash for the bottle. "It's for my old man."
"Yeah, right."
"Look err
.."
"Oy, Alec? "
I turn and see old Mick, standing just inside the door, hunched in my khaki jacket and the pyjama bottoms, which only just reach the top of my doc martins. The boots are much too big for his feet. His bare chest and stomach glisten with rain.
"Move ya self, lad. There's a copper coming." He says, and disappears again.
"Who's he? Scout leader?" Claire asks, and laughs.
"He was at Monte Cassino." I say.
"Monty who?"
Outside Todd has the car revving. The front passenger door is open and I slip in and slam it shut, then hit the dashboard as Todd rams his foot to the floor and we wheel spin for a moment, before shooting out into traffic (missing the back end of a bus by not much).
Todd adjusts his rear-view mirror, switches off the stereo and glances briefly at me.
"Where the f*ck were you?" He seems really pissed off about something.
"I got asked my age
what's up?"
"Mick 'ere
'e wants to go to Little'aven - on the f*cking coast. Sussex. Tonight, like."
I turn in my seat and look back at our passenger, who leans forward. He appears about ten years younger than he had walking from the car to the telephone box earlier.
"She probably hates me." He'd said. "Probably wants nothing t'do with me."
"Did you ever hurt her
like really, ever?" I asked him.
He stared at me a moment. "No. Never."
"Then I think you're doing the right thing."
"What happened?"
"I got 'old of my Joyce. Pleased to 'ear from me, she says. I wanna give it a go. I've got her address."
"That's good."
"Yep
on my way."
He sits back and looks out at the street dissolving from his life, behind him. Maybe he is dreaming of a day when he will be sitting in a deckchair on the sand, with his family around him.
I look at Todd, who is lighting up a cigarette one-handed. He glances in his wing mirror nervously, like he thinks the police are going to be out hunting us down for kidnapping or some ****.
"He ain't got a penny on him." Todd says.
I unscrew the lid on the vodka bottle and take a mouthful. Screw the lid back on.
"What d'you think?" I say.
"F*ck knows."
Todd turns a corner and narrowly misses a woman on a bike, "Silly bitch," he yells.
I notice he is driving towards home.
"I can't take him back to my place." I say.
"Well, 'e ain't dossing at mine."
"I don't want to cause you boys a problem." Mick says from the back seat.
"Look, take us back to your place
" I say to Todd.
" I can go home and get him some clothes and enough money to get a train. It'll just be for an hour."
"Suze is at my place."
"She won't mind. Tell her he's an old rocker - played with the stones or something."
Todd looks across at me and rolls his eyes, but I can tell he sees it makes sense.
"You'll have to get him to the station yourself
I told suze I'd take her out tonight."
"Alright."
I turn and look back at the old man riding along with us. "Is that good with you, Mick?"
"It is. And I can send the fare back to you, an' all."
I turn and settle into my seat, "That's that then."
But of course, that wasn't that.
Life is strange like that.
The best laid plans
and all that.
(to be continued...)
Endymion 2008
I like it Endy.
My favorite line this time was when Claire asked if Mick was the scoutmaster...
Also like the description of the land passing by outside the train window at the beginning and the train itself as a tube moving through the night.
I thought the description of the woman's voice as she dragged the little boy along (speaking in a voice, "cruel as a whip") was very effective.
Mick is great - that description of him standing in his pajama pants with the too-big Doc Martens on is perfect.
I also like how Alec is so kind to him.
Jesus, i can't spell for ****. Funny but back there (Tico kindly noticed) i wrote "the souls of his feet" Can you believe it?
Now 'Doc Martins'
i think i must be working my way up from the bottom!
thanks for reading this, Rebecca
e
