Last week we announced the winners of the 2012 Crime & Intrigue Short Story Writing Competition.
As we mentioned then, VB will be running all three winning stories, the final is the winning adult by Andrew Preskey which we’re sure you’ll agree is a fantastic piece of writing.
1. Each day will be more frustrating but more surprising than the last
Unfettered by routine you rise at dawn and, lured by the faint saffron light of this August morning, walk to the patio window.
A fox looks back at you, not fearful but brazen in its conquest of urban civilisation. And then you recall that all is not well because, while you can admire the majesty of this creature, drawing just the right adjective from your store of words to describe it, the brilliant, bushy thing that adorns its backside remains stubbornly nameless.
Of course it is a…
You turn around, compelled to label things before they, too, can escape identification. Table, chair, pot plant, newspaper…. Even in your small living room, the task is immense. You give up.
2. You will begin to leave yourself notes – always in the first person
I taught Art and English from 1985 to 2007 you read. Another tells you, Mother died of ovarian cancer aged 48 years. Although this is something that you can recall, tears cloud your eyes as the memory returns and you realise that one day, not too far away, you will again read this note and its contents will come as a shock.
Recognising this, you pick up a pen and write THINGS I MUST NOT FORGET. The first, however, is that your favourite word is eclectic, which prompts a totally different train of thought as you wonder how quite complex things can come to mind so readily and yet others, like what you would usually have for breakfast, can evade you completely.
3. Some memories will become strangely powerful, while others fade
On a day trip to the Peak District you suddenly recall a cycle ride with friends, John and Tim.
The memory is complete, untouched, as if freshly created – ruddy faces, muscles bulging from pedalling your single speed, fixed gear bicycles, the Dandelion & Burdock so cool that condensation formed on the glass.
For a moment you flick excitedly through the directory of your life”¦ But only the earliest pages remain intact.
You feel ancient, like an elderly man recalling stories of childhood when all else is lost. But then the sunshine takes you and, stopping at the same cafe that enjoyed your boyish custom so many years ago, you embrace the memory like a long lost friend.
4. Old photographs will enthral you and music will acquire new meaning
Your attention is attracted by a faded portrait, a baby held by a young man with shining eyes. For a moment you cannot identify him but that young man is you; the photograph was taken just twenty years ago.
The picture does not bring pain, however, but joy as you rediscover the scene. For perhaps the hundredth time this year, you gaze with wonder upon the faces that beam back at you and feel something that is not pride but is warm and amazing – a sensation you want to share but, if you once had the words, you cannot locate them now.
So, instead, you smile benignly at the awe that is life and enjoy the tune that percolates from the jazz programme on the radio. Jack Teagarden is in full flow, the big, battered trombonist playing Body and Soul with such delicacy and precision and light. And music succeeds where words have failed.
5. Some relationships will become more challenging
Before the track has finished, your daughter accosts you. She has been told, by her mother, that she cannot attend a late night party because she has an important exam the next day.
But the party is unmissable. Her mother does not understand. You can re-sit exams but you can’t re-sit parties.
She batters you with words and, as you attempt to respond, demands, “Talk faster. I can’t hear you unless you talk faster.”
But slow and careful is the only speed you have left. So you try moderating your tone, attempting to ensure that things do not escalate out of control.
At this, she becomes angry, shouting at you, “Don’t be condescending. Don’t talk down to me.”
But condescending is not like eclectic. It is not your favourite word. You are uncertain what to say. She, this someone that you love so deeply but do not yet truly know, needs guidance through the pain and confusion of growing up; she needs clarity, consistency, a framework.
You fail, despite your very best effort, and wonder what value you can bring. You wish for life in the photograph but your daughter storms out to find her mother, leaving only her bluster, swelling the sea of inadequacy in which you silently flounder.
Closing your eyes, you search for land, for safety, for security of mind. The ocean is not calm blue but expansive, angry grey – vast, unpredictable, overpowering.
The best that you can hope for in this nauseous state is the temporary sustenance of friendly flotsam. And so you strain to hear the music and hold your photograph so tightly that it seems your life depends upon it. Which, in a sense, it does…
6. You will try to compensate by planning and preparation
Your son, Adam, telephones to remind you that you have an appointment at the hospital at 1pm for which you must prepare.
Refusing the offer of an early lunch from your wife, you insist upon being ready an hour before Adam is due to pick you up at 12.15pm.
At 12.00 noon your worry that you are wearing the wrong clothes becomes overwhelming. You go to change. Having neatly displayed two different outfits on the bed, and removed your outer clothes, you stand statuesque, completely unable to decide which is right for the occasion.
Adam arrives to find you in your boxer shorts. Hugging you, immediately practical, he puts away all but one set of clothes to remove any confusion.
“Still hot outside, Dad. The cotton trousers and short sleeved shirt, I reckon. What do you think?”
Temporarily, at least, normality is restored.
7. You will need to manage your behaviour, especially in the presence of professionals
At the hospital, your Consultant talks to you as a bombastic Teacher addressing a recalcitrant child. He ascribes to your illness an identity – more, a personality…
The day is improving, however. Your thinking seems clearer, your recall more complete. You see instantly the similarities between the characteristics of your illness and those of the good Doctor. Smiling, you keep these to yourself.
You are polite, pleasant, personable. You retrieve from fractured storage those interpersonal skills that equipped you so well for work before the illness struck.
He talks about Pick’s Disease but you show no indications of anti-social behaviour and he dismisses the idea – just another flourish of the amazing knowledge of the great medical man.
“No, it is probably some form of Alzheimer’s. Did we try the Rivastigmine?”
8. You will see the job that must be done but forget how to do it
After dinner, now tired from your hospital appointment, you go to wipe the dishes. You know that you need something to do this with, something you can hold that should be located somewhere near the sink by the side of which the dishes are stacked. You remember that kitchen roll is used for wiping things and tear off a few sheets.
As you pick up the first dish, your wife gently takes the paper from your hands, replacing it with a tea towel. She says nothing but smiles at you – grateful that you still wish to help rather than critical of your inept efforts to do so.
Suddenly, though this morning you struggled to recall her name, you become aware that her smile is the very last thing you wish to forget.
9. Friends and family will self-categorise themselves into two groups
Group One. You realise that some of those who have always been close to you no longer know how to act in your presence. They are uncertain about what to say, how to pitch their comments, what they should expect back from you in return.
Soon, perhaps weeks from now, their awkwardness will tip into embarrassment.
Group Two. Others think not about themselves, how they appear or look, but about you. They hug you when you get something wrong and encourage you to laugh with them when they misjudge a situation or make a mistake.
You discover that you feel more comfortable with these people but, sadly, you recognise that some of those you love most, including your teenage daughter, are not part of this group.
10. You will become increasingly easily distracted
Asked to set the table for lunch, you go to wash your hands. Warm water, soap, remember to turn off the tap, rinse, unplug”¦ You reach for a towel but, before your palms are dry, all thoughts of table cloth and cutlery have gone – a mystery”¦
When your daughter discovers you, nearly a quarter of an hour later, you are sorting bottles of shampoo, shower gel and bathroom cleaner by colour.
11. Some relationships will become easier
Your neighbour, who has agreed to look in on you while your wife shops, finds you huddled in the mid-morning sunshine, the radio chattering to a disinterested room.
Removing the cold, untouched coffee from your side he disappears momentarily. The distant sound of a boiling kettle can be heard.
Returning, he cups his calloused, workman’s hands around your feeble, frozen fingers. Gently easing those unwilling digits open, removing the photograph that you have been clutching, he places it perfectly on the side.
This man you once so disliked then offers to your lips the replenished mug of coffee, a bottle to a baby. He talks, in mellifluous Caribbean tones, about little things – the garden, the cricket match that England must win, his grandchildren, the weather.
And you do not know if it is the coffee or the man, or being part of something bigger than oneself that is not frightening, but you begin to think again, to remember just a little – about life, about yourself.
12. You will realise that you do not know what you are meant to do next
As you are feeling hot and tired, your wife suggests that you take a bath. Collecting the fresh towel that she offers, you follow her gaze and walk through the bathroom door.
Here, you stop. Bewildered by bottles of perfume and bars of soap, you focus on a brightly decorated deodorant. Does it have a function in your bath?
You stand, towel in hand, looking around. A miscellany of minor objects clutters the windowsill, each jostling for your attention. Examining these, you pick some up before placing them back down again, rejected.
Nothing speaks to you. You breathe deeply. You wait.
13. You will disappear
Getting up one morning before it is light, you go into the kitchen. The familiarity of the place teases you but you cannot place it. You wonder what you are doing here.
A middle aged lady enters the room. At first you think she is your mother and then she smiles at you and, for a moment, the precursor of recognition flickers. There is something about her, about her smile. She is important to you but you do not know how.
And so you struggle to bring some clue or cue to mind. Grappling with confusion, you search for a sign but even in the stillness that lingers from the night all seems noise. Life is now a frightening place, full of strange sights and odd sounds signifying nothing.
But, holding out her arms, she places your head upon her shoulder and, even though you cannot name her, you know that she is as kind as the world is cruel.
And, though you try so very hard to stop them, in that embrace your despair is finally washed away by 52 years of tears, and you are ready to pass through oblivion to what lies beyond.
Image: Jason Paris under CC BY 2.0
