Some story I started and will finish later
Chapter 1
It’s freezing. Not just cold. Freezing. I mean it…it’s shrinkage weather. It’s three hours till race time and I’m freezing my but off because mum got called into work early. Everything’s gray. The sun’s up but only half heartedly. A few seagulls are grooming the off yellow sand for breakfast. At least they get fed. I haven’t eaten anything since tea last night and I’m starving. I contemplate joining the seagulls in their search but as I take a step forward I stop myself and consider my reputation. It’s not much. But I’ll keep it just the same. The beach is stuck in slow motion as I sit and wait. And wait. Then wait some more. Till finally they start to filter in.
It’s nine on the dot and finally there is some life in the event. Other competitors nod as they pass me and I nod back. We all know each other, well most of us, but it doesn’t seem fitting to converse at this stage of the competition. The tower has been erected and they’re testing out the starting guns. Finally it’s time. I drag my sea kayak down to the choppy foreshore then start stretching. The ocean is deafening. I stare at it. It grins. “Bring it on,” it says. And I do.
The bang from the starter’s pistol finds its way through the racquet and hits me with intent. My legs start to move. The cold bites my feet as I half run half skip through the water. The sea reaches up and grabs my knee. I pull myself up and steady the rocking kayak with the oar. The first few strokes are powerful, left the others for dead. Then the waves attack me. I almost flip it twice in the white caps but somehow manage to hold on. Once I clear the rough section, my arms are lead. I have nothing left in me.
I walk in the door at home and sit next to the heater. Mum asks me how it went. I couldn’t lie to her; it would be in the paper tomorrow. Quick, whats a suitable euphemisms for ‘I lost’. Blank.
“I lost”
She looked at me for a while. “Did you do you’re best?”
What a stupid question, of course I did my best, when was the last time I did something in order to humiliate myself deliberately?
“Yes.” I mumbled.
“Well that’s all that matters then.”
No it’s not. Who cares whether or not I tried my best? The only thing any one is ever interested about is the result.
It’s Sunday morning. Mum flipped when she saw my time in the paper. The world’s grey again. The pathetic pool of yellowy brown light barely makes it to my bowl of cereal. Mum’s in a rush again. She said she was gonna take me out to breakfast but she had to cancel cause of work. There’s nothing to do. I know I’ll end up at South point like every other Sunday but the fantasy of doing something different is really quite enticing. I’ll let it stay for the moment. Mum just left.
South point is packed. People stare at the loner as I cross the cool compacted sand. I pretend to ignore. It doesn’t work. The water’s cold but comforting. Four powerful strokes underwater and I’m past the waders. Backstroke now and I’m past the recreational swimmers. Now I stare up at the yellowy sky and sink my head back into the ripples to drown out the noise. It works. It’s the only thing I can rely on. Everything’s perfect. No noise, no people, no races. Nothing. Just me and the water.
Chapter 2
"James...Phone."
My groggy mid monday morning sleep is shattered by mums piercing voice. I wedge the phone between my ear and shoulder.
"Hello?"
"Hello James, It's Mrs Marthers from Ballahoo rd. I was just wondering if..."
"You would like me to fix your garden for you today?" I knew where this was heading.
"Yes...but the thing is..."
"You havn't got the cash at the moment?"
"That's right. But don't worry, I'm being paid soon, I can fix you up then."
"No problem Mrs Mathers, I'll be round before lunch."
"Thank you James, I really appreciate it."
I shook my head as I hung up the phone and pulled on my jeans. Mrs Mathers is 90...odd. Mum reakons she's lost the plot. She's not worked a day in her life. Been living off johnny ever since she were born. It wasn't until the fourth request that I realised I was never going to be paid.
It’s freezing. Not just cold. Freezing. I mean it…it’s shrinkage weather. It’s three hours till race time and I’m freezing my but off because mum got called into work early. Everything’s gray. The sun’s up but only half heartedly. A few seagulls are grooming the off yellow sand for breakfast. At least they get fed. I haven’t eaten anything since tea last night and I’m starving. I contemplate joining the seagulls in their search but as I take a step forward I stop myself and consider my reputation. It’s not much. But I’ll keep it just the same. The beach is stuck in slow motion as I sit and wait. And wait. Then wait some more. Till finally they start to filter in.
It’s nine on the dot and finally there is some life in the event. Other competitors nod as they pass me and I nod back. We all know each other, well most of us, but it doesn’t seem fitting to converse at this stage of the competition. The tower has been erected and they’re testing out the starting guns. Finally it’s time. I drag my sea kayak down to the choppy foreshore then start stretching. The ocean is deafening. I stare at it. It grins. “Bring it on,” it says. And I do.
The bang from the starter’s pistol finds its way through the racquet and hits me with intent. My legs start to move. The cold bites my feet as I half run half skip through the water. The sea reaches up and grabs my knee. I pull myself up and steady the rocking kayak with the oar. The first few strokes are powerful, left the others for dead. Then the waves attack me. I almost flip it twice in the white caps but somehow manage to hold on. Once I clear the rough section, my arms are lead. I have nothing left in me.
I walk in the door at home and sit next to the heater. Mum asks me how it went. I couldn’t lie to her; it would be in the paper tomorrow. Quick, whats a suitable euphemisms for ‘I lost’. Blank.
“I lost”
She looked at me for a while. “Did you do you’re best?”
What a stupid question, of course I did my best, when was the last time I did something in order to humiliate myself deliberately?
“Yes.” I mumbled.
“Well that’s all that matters then.”
No it’s not. Who cares whether or not I tried my best? The only thing any one is ever interested about is the result.
It’s Sunday morning. Mum flipped when she saw my time in the paper. The world’s grey again. The pathetic pool of yellowy brown light barely makes it to my bowl of cereal. Mum’s in a rush again. She said she was gonna take me out to breakfast but she had to cancel cause of work. There’s nothing to do. I know I’ll end up at South point like every other Sunday but the fantasy of doing something different is really quite enticing. I’ll let it stay for the moment. Mum just left.
South point is packed. People stare at the loner as I cross the cool compacted sand. I pretend to ignore. It doesn’t work. The water’s cold but comforting. Four powerful strokes underwater and I’m past the waders. Backstroke now and I’m past the recreational swimmers. Now I stare up at the yellowy sky and sink my head back into the ripples to drown out the noise. It works. It’s the only thing I can rely on. Everything’s perfect. No noise, no people, no races. Nothing. Just me and the water.
Chapter 2
"James...Phone."
My groggy mid monday morning sleep is shattered by mums piercing voice. I wedge the phone between my ear and shoulder.
"Hello?"
"Hello James, It's Mrs Marthers from Ballahoo rd. I was just wondering if..."
"You would like me to fix your garden for you today?" I knew where this was heading.
"Yes...but the thing is..."
"You havn't got the cash at the moment?"
"That's right. But don't worry, I'm being paid soon, I can fix you up then."
"No problem Mrs Mathers, I'll be round before lunch."
"Thank you James, I really appreciate it."
I shook my head as I hung up the phone and pulled on my jeans. Mrs Mathers is 90...odd. Mum reakons she's lost the plot. She's not worked a day in her life. Been living off johnny ever since she were born. It wasn't until the fourth request that I realised I was never going to be paid.
posted by Jacob Camac | 11:02 PM
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