Home?

A Leaving Home

“Haven’t seen these guys in years actually, sure you know how wild we were back in the day.” She smiles amicably but without showing any sign of remembering his past excesses. “They’ll be here soon enough Frank, and then you can talk all you like about it” She was bustling around and out the door, closing it behind her. Little dust mites chased childishly after her, billowing out behind her on the wave of the closing door. Is she annoyed with me? I hope not, don’t know what I’d do without her around. Keeps me in clean sheets and hot meals, she was the one who eventually settled me into a smooth groove. Not so for my two old mates, they had kept it up for two long and came down harder than they could take, shattered bones, bodies, minds, in pieces. As I was saying, I hadn’t seen them in years, and I feel a bit embarrassed telling you. To be frank, they both had a bit of trouble, with the head you know? In some home apparently, nurses, head-doctors with brightly lit offices and all, frightening. I know for certain if I had ended up in one of those places I wouldn’t have made it. I can imagine it. Restrained screaming all night wailing lonely down the corridor of locked steel doors, not a second of sleep. I saw a film about it in my younger years, stuck with me for life. Poor chaps. They came to visit sometimes, allowed out for the day with their two nurses, two lovely ladies who didn’t look like nurses at all. They were very close to them, holding their hands and looking like they had a thing for them, shocking! They would flirt gently with round edged innuendos and laugh at all of each others jokes.  The two lads always had a way with the women, no tricks missed.

We would sit in the same room every time, I don’t even know why when there were plenty of other rooms much nicer in the place, but always this same one with the sad jaundiced walls. Cold kind of feeling, very odd really. It was always good to see them, and they looked well. Groomed respectably, I suppose the two women took care of that. Mary would sit beside me, in her chair that noone else could sit on, I made it a rule. If it was a nice day I would suggest a stroll out in the garden, eager to show the boys the well manicured lawn and flowerbeds that were coming along nicely. Mary would always be against it though, saying it was too cold, or she would divert us by offering tea or sandwiches. She was never much of a one for the great outdoors anyway, always preferring the warmth of the house. I had never minded it though, late seventies evening with her hair in the long style pixyish of the time,moulding together into the small couch me stroking her hair, lovely hair she had, golden browny like fresh summer cornfields. Lovely. She wasn’t much of a sandwich maker truth be told, but that’s not why I married her. These lifeless grey things, I feel bad even offering them to the boys but of course I don’t say anything. They take one and I offer a knowing eye towards them while she chatters to one of the ladies.

Its good to reminisce though, isn’t it? So much forgotten over the years, the colour slowly washing out of our hair and slowly paunching up, youd barely recognise us from the hopeful kids we were. We would sit for hours, two or so, and just jaw jaw jaw over the same stuff usually, but none of us minded. Mary was very good to sit there and listen to it, patience of a saint really. The day would pass by a little and the three old boys sat there not noticing at all, really enjoying these visits.

They had to end though, the boys had to be getting back, the two women ushering them about, helping them with their coats on. One of them small, still pretty with age and still fully able of taking care of herself. A look at the watch finally convinced them to take their leave and they did so in the same way as we always had ,handshakes, smiles and laughs, never parted on bad terms anyway. Well apart from that one time, but I suppose theyre going so we don’t really have enough time to talk about it. Imagine, these two lads that had once been with me in hazy twenty year old nights, gingerly remembering the night before the morning after, having to be told when they had to go. The things we had talked about, blazed forever into memory like a negative, everything was black and white with hindsight. Then they would go, and I’d stay here with the momentos in my head, fading each day irretrievably. It was awful, and I never could quite see them to the door, I always felt too bad. I would stay in my seat and let Mary lead them out the door towards the waiting cars.

“Ill see yous next time lads“, as they left with Mary at their back. I could hear the scrape of the feet on the carpet in the hall, the click of the door and Mary’s parting shots. “I’m just going to give Mr. Robinson his medication now, thanks for calling by, he was really in need of a visit.” Even after all these years she still called me that around company, strange little quirk that I had grown to love over time. She would come back into the room with the slight flush on her little face from the brisk air. “Would you like a cup of tea Frank?” That would be lovely, thanks love. Then she would bustle off to the kitchen and come back with a cup of steaming watery tea. Not much of a tea maker either, but I don’t know what Id do without her.