Anything Will Do

Day 27

anythingwilldo — Fri, 27 Feb 2009 15:05:55 +0000

He heard them before he saw them. Sirens, engines, voices. Then the bank came into view. They had boats and divers, paramedics and police officers. He didn’t know these people, and they were all watching him heading towards the bank. They didn’t look human, all in their different uniforms, each just the face of a function. He didn’t want to talk to them, he didn’t want to look at them. These heroes, these rescuers, they were the end to him, the end of all hope. Death. He pulled out his paddle and began to paddle upstream against the current, trying to turn back time, trying to find his daughter. It was a final battle with the river, and he went at it with all the violence and aggression he had left, but he was weak now, and the river was quietly strong, shaking its head at his desparation. He couldn’t stop the boat continuing down the river, towards the bank. He was being pulled away from one death, and towards more. He couldn’t fight it. He looked down at Sam. He was cuddled up close to his mother, looking at his father with wide dark eyes and shivering lips.

Then they were at the bank, and peope were crowding round them. He asked to be given a minute, and they moved away, still watching, waiting to do their jobs. He looked at Sam holding onto his mother, and he couldn’t bear for time to move forward, to break one more thing. He looked at Jane, and he said I’m sorry, and he knew that the little life he had left would be taken up with a lot more sorrys. He moved forward in the boat, and put his hand in Sam’s hair, and kissed his forehead. He took hold of Sam’s arms and pulled him away from his mother. He lifted him and stood up in the boat. He reached his spare arm out and touched Jane’s cold face. He placed a finger gently on each of her eyelids, and pulled them shut. Then he carried his son away from the river.

Day 26

anythingwilldo — Thu, 26 Feb 2009 16:03:57 +0000

This was bigger and more threatening than what they had just been through, and there was no question that passed between any of them that they would ride through the middle of it. They were high on achievement, but, for Jack at least, this felt like something they had to conquer together. Nobody was laughing now, he looked round at his children’s determined faces, and warned them to hold on tight. He gave a nod to Jane, and they both started paddling into the centre. It hit them hard, and took the breath out of the entire boat. They rose up so that they could see nothing of the river and came down again so it was all they could see. Keep paddling, Jack shouted, and they pushed on forward. Then a drop, and a crash, as they were jolted down into the floor of the boat. It began to turn, and they couldn’t stop it and suddenly the boat seemed to be shaking them out. Katie screamed. Hold on, Jack shouted. He and Jane stopped paddling and held tight, keeping their heads down. They watched their children, feeling helpless. Then, the light changed, everything twisted, the water was louder, louder, louder, then quieter, quieter, quieter.

Day 25

anythingwilldo — Wed, 25 Feb 2009 15:03:04 +0000

They came round a fast meander, and Sam and Katie screamed with laughter. Hold on, said Jane, but grinning, moving with the boat. She put her oar in, twisting it to put them back on the course that Jack was looking for, and he used his oar to counter the movement just enough. Sam pointed to the bubbling rapids in the middle, go on Daddy, he said. Let’s go, let’s go shouted Katie. I don’t know, said Jack and looked at Jane. She grinned at him mischievously and they both steered the boat into the middle of the river. The boat twisted and bucked, but they all moved themselves skilfully, blending into the movements, becoming the river and they went faster and faster. Jane whooped and they each took turn to whoop after her. After a final surge, the rapids slowed, and then calm, and they all collapsed into the bottom of the boat, Sam and Katie on Jane and Jack, all panting and laughing. Jane turned her head to Jack and he reached for her hand. The air was clean and fresh and sparkled above them. Within a few minutes the only sounds were the gentle lapping of the river on the side of the boat. Then, a distant roar began.

Day 24

anythingwilldo — Tue, 24 Feb 2009 13:45:54 +0000

This was a low point. He fell into a deepening spiral, and Jane and the children followed him down. Partly they couldn’t help it, partly they just didn’t want to lose him. As he concerned himself over what his children thought of him, their opinion changed of him; no longer a positive, go-getting ambitious strong man, now weak, quiet, self-pitying. And he knew this and he felt more and more helpless. Their opinion of him and his reaction to the opinion dragged each other down, down. And Jane saw everything falling apart around her. She had been the one badly affected, so angry that everyone else had been able to carry on as normal, now she wished they would again. She knew that when some of her help was needed it brought her back to life, but this was too much, too too much. And so it was, they all fell freely into an abyss of despair, one leading the other, one overtaking and pulling, all gathering speed with just one end in sight. It wasn’t until Jack first coughed up some blood that he began looking for a ledge to pull them back up with. We’re going rafting, he said.

Day 23

anythingwilldo — Mon, 23 Feb 2009 15:07:19 +0000

As this issue weighed more and more heavily on his mind, he toyed with possible solutions. He wanted to take the situation in hand, speak directly to the children about their memories, and ensure that they were fully aware of all his good qualities. He wanted them to know that he loved them, more than anything, but he knew how important it was for them to grow up with an image of their father that they could be proud of. Someone strong, inspiring, leading. He wanted a long talk with them to give them examples of all these qualities, or perhaps to write them down, but aside from the fact that to do so would clearly not be an admirable quality in itself, he was finding it difficult to think of any examples. Have I really got so little to be proud of, he asked Jane. She told him he had everything to be proud of, two wonderful children who loved him. But the thought of going to his death bed with two wonderful children loving him despite the kind of person he was, instead of because of it nearly made him collapse on the floor in despair.

Day 22

anythingwilldo — Sun, 22 Feb 2009 14:41:46 +0000

He could never hope to guess what Sam and Katie would remember about their earliest years, and what they would remember about him. He expected they would have some memories of his death. Ultimately it would be under Jane’s control as to what these memories consisted of. He assumed that in his last dying days she would shelter them from his suffering more than perhaps he would have chosen. And while the thought of this didn’t feel quite right to him, he took some guilty comfort from it. It was other potential memories that now worried him. In his efforts to always be open and honest with his children, he had revealed sides to himself that he wasn’t proud of. He had told them when he faced suspension from his job because of some minor expense fiddling. The complications of the matter meant that he had to explain it simply as stealing a bit of money from the company. He had hit Jane the previous summer, after an argument which started over not giving him a telephone message, and he had gathered the children afterwards to explain what he had done. This was excellent therapy for him; the looks of fear and sadness on their faces meant that he would never be able to do such a thing again, but at the time he hadn’t considered that this might be one of their strongest memories of their father.

Day 21

anythingwilldo — Sat, 21 Feb 2009 14:21:09 +0000

He looked back on his own early life and thought about what he remembered. It wasn’t any vague notions of feelings or relationships, it was concrete events, things that had moved him at the time certainly, but he didn’t remember how they had moved him, he just remembered the what of them. He remembered his much older brother buying a motor bike and getting in huge trouble with their mother, especially when he was given a ride on it along the sea front. He remembered a fire at a department store which he had escaped from in the clutches of his mother, held to her chest as she ran screaming into the open. He remembered the cake he has been given on his fourth birthday, that had slid from the plate onto the table as it was presented, and he was allowed to eat it straight from the table. He remembered listening to his parents talking in the kitchen about how his father was probably going to prison for something to do with not telling people about some money and he remembered some time later saying goodbye as his father explained he was going to do some work in Africa and would be back in three months.

Day 20

anythingwilldo — Fri, 20 Feb 2009 14:12:35 +0000

Will they even remember me, he said. Of course they’ll remember you, she said. Jack had suddenly discovered that the only way to get Jane out of her introspection, to stop her feeling sorry for herself, was to make her feel sorry for someone else. He had discovered this when she started worrying about the kids, and she came to life again, but he didn’t want her to worry about the kids. The kids would be fine, but if she worried about them they would notice and may not be fine after all. If she worried about them then he would worry too, and he may not be fine after all. So he started making small manipulative movements to make her feel sorry for him instead, and every time he did she truly came back to life. However, as he feared, when he created an issue for her to pity him over, the issue suddenly became real, a cause for concern for both of them. And it was this issue, the issue of what the kids would remember that was troubling him most. He agreed that they would probably remember him, but it was what they would remember him for that began to occupy his mind.

Day 19

anythingwilldo — Thu, 19 Feb 2009 14:21:01 +0000

He watched Sam nestling into his mother, supporting her and taking comfort from her. So young, so strong, Sam was his legacy and he was so proud. Sam would do special things, wonderful things, Jack had no doubt, and if he would allow himself one sadness it was that he would miss these things, for to deny this sadness would be to deny Sam’s potential. Sam had battled through his father’s controlling nature, his mother’s submissive nature, and was the most well-balanced individual that Jack knew. This little boy had stepped into some of their fiercest rows and delivered such plain and simple truths that it left them breathless. And the love that he felt for people was so strong and clear, without prejudice, he was in a hundred ways what Jack aspired to be but had failed. And it was so deeply in his nature, this wasn’t something that would disappear with growing cynicism. In fact cynicism was about the only thing that made Sam angry. In this boat now, rising above all of the sadness that Jack felt at what he would miss, was utter happiness at what he had half created in Sam, at what Sam would contribute to the world.

Day 18

anythingwilldo — Wed, 18 Feb 2009 14:30:48 +0000

As the children coped, Jane went into a state of mourning. Not yet mourning for Jack, but already mourning the loss of her family’s security and normal life. Jack’s relationship with his children returned to normal, carried on almost as if nothing was happening. This was what Jack wanted and actively encouraged, and the children were happy to go along with it. But Jane fell into depression, and became instensely attached to Jack, following him whenever practical, following him remotely when she couldn’t be physically with him. This irritated Jack who wanted everything to stay normal and valued his personal space. Worse, Jane became controlling, mothering him, constantly checking that he was alright and taking all the necessary safety precautions. The closer she pulled, the harder he pushed. Please just let me be, he would say. She wouldn’t reply, looking concerned, looking sad, looking wronged. She insisted on accompanying him to all his checkups and on one visit, to Jane’s obvious discomfort, Jack brought up the issue of her suffocating behaviour with the doctor. The doctor called it anticipatory grief, and said it was common, that they both had to understand how the other was feeling. Jack understood, but he wasn’t going to stand for it, this wasn’t how he wanted the last days of their relationship to work. And as the time passed, Jane shrank into herself, until Jack felt like it was her that was dying.