Strange Day

A Strange Day

July 1993

 

            Patrick quickly removed the deck chair from the roof of the car and placed it on the ground next to him. He had stolen the wooden chair from Brighton Beach whilst on a drunken mission to satisfy a childish bet, made by his wife on their wedding night. It held fond memories but under the current circumstances he had no time to reminisce about the past, not just yet anyway. He moved purposefully to the rear of the car and released the boot latch. The lid flew open and he delved into the compartment and retrieved a large beach umbrella. He placed it down next to the chair and returned to the gapping mouth of the boot. He was sweating profusely from the intense heat and the exertion of the past ten minutes. All of the traffic on the road had been heading in the opposite direction and in their panic they totally disregarded all the rules of the road and of driving etiquette. Many had mounted the median strip and were driving down the wrong side of the road. They failed to recognize traffic lights and road signs, causing utter chaos in their wake.

            A haze covered the sun but did nothing to reduce the stifling heat that it radiated onto the earth. The temperature warmed the air so that every breath singed his throat and lungs. His breathing was short and sharp to compensate for the lack of oxygen in the air. Patrick removed a towel and wiped the sweat from his brow. He swung the towel over his shoulder before removing a small cardboard box and placing it under his arm. He stooped to pick up the umbrella and chair and started for the path that led down to the bay below. He didn't bother to close the door or the boot of the car as there was not a soul around to steal anything anyway. The fact of the matter was, that in a matter of minutes there would be nothing worth stealing anyway.

            An urgent voice from inside the car quickened his pace across the irregular limestone rocks. The urgent warnings and life saving advice blared from the radio. Patrick had heard it a thousand times in the last few minutes and knew the content of the warning off by heart.

            He quickly made his way down the path that had been carved out of the surrounding vegetation by generations of people looking for solitude from the world and their lives. He juggled the assorted items and stumbled many times in his haste. Things tumbled from the box, falling softly onto the sand, leaving a trail of memories behind him like Hansel and Gretel’s bread crumbs. He made no attempt to recover the lost items as his time was rapidly running short.

            The path led across a short plain and down to a small secluded strip of beach, sandwiched between two limestone cliff faces. He paused midway down the incline, allowing precious seconds to tick away, to take in the familiar scene that he had known since early childhood, but until this day, had never really appreciated.

            Waves lapped lazily against the smooth stones that covered the shoreline, turning the crystal blue water into frothing white foam. Thick vegetation started 20 metres from the water and continued up passed him until it crested up and over to reach the main highway above, running parallel with the coast line. The whole area was alive with hidden life, but that would soon radically change. The voice from the car had changed to a monotone of resignation, but the constantly repeated message hadn't changed and brought him from his day dream. Patrick hastily continued down the slope, eager to set up and to relieve the panic he felt in his gut.

            He dropped his load onto the smooth stones and gazed dreamily out into the distance. The sun loomed low in the afternoon sky, broadcasting a mysterious tune into the atmosphere. His temples began to throb and painful memories of his father flooded into the fore front of his mind. His father’s kind and gentle face, moving closer as he passed down a bag of sweets. The confused expression on his face when he would wet himself whilst watching TV. The joy they had shared setting up the train set he had received for his 9th birthday. His frail, emaciated body lying motionless in the large hospital bed. Blindly throwing things around the living room as the madness of the disease efficiently destroyed his mind. Gently kissing his moist cheek before lowering the pillow to his face and suffocating what life he had left, from his body.

            A single tear escaped his eye and raced down his cheek.

            "We'll be together soon Dad." he whispered quietly into the breeze.

            The future was quickly moving into the past. He opened the chair and set it on the stones facing the water. He then opened the umbrella and forced the pole through the top layer of stone and into the soft soil that lay beneath. He sat down heavily into the canvas chair and pulled the small box next to him. Resting his head back against the back rest he allowed his thoughts to wonder for awhile. Allowing the rhythmic sound of the rolling waves to relax his weary body and loosened the tension that had built up in his neck.

            Before he knew exactly what was happening his soul began to rise up from the chair and rapidly gain altitude, until he floated on the wisps of white clouds high above the beach where his body still sat motionless in the deck chair. He gently floated away from the shore and out to sea with no thought or feeling of actual movement. He began to laugh uncontrollably, partly due to the wonder of the experience and partly because he was scared out of his mind. He felt a gentle tug at his midriff, like reaching the end of a rope that was tied around his waist, and the progress of his travel came to a gentle stop. Within the blink of an eyelid he returned back to his body with a feeling of extreme joy and wonder that was overpowering in its intensity.

            Patrick opened his eyes to the world around him. It looked different in a way that he couldn't quite describe, the euphoria of his journey leaked from him through the gaping wound left in his soul, to be replaced by bitterness and regret. Regret for the chances lost or wasted and bitterness at the experiences that will never be. The pounding of his temples continued as his memories where replaced by pain and submission.

            He managed to overcome his sorrow and regained some of his earlier composure before delving into the box next to him. He removed an assortment of picture frames and wiped away the dust that had accumulated over the years with the palm of his hand. He carefully placed the pictures of his family around him in an arc so that he could see each of their faces at a mere glance. He looked lovingly at each one, gently tracing each of the images with his fingers. Their chemical features stared back at him, each expression displaying the emotion of the moment, captured forever on film. The pictures had been the final straw and he was overcome with grief. He lowered his face into his hands and rocked back and forth in the chair.

            A flash of light broke through the bone and tissue of his hands, startling him. A sudden hush raced in from the sea, encasing his world in a vacuum, totally void of all sound. He looked up from the palms of his hands in time to see a mushroom cloud growing majestically out of the horizon. Patrick waited with baited breath for the shock that he knew was about to come. The sea swelled before him as a familiar tune broke the silence inside his head. He collapsed back into the chair eager for the end. The walls of his mind came crashing down, imploding his brain, as the shock wave rushed in from the ocean and hit the land, destroying everything in its path. And then everything was gone forever.

Reviews

[Kathleen Allen]

Wow, that was a really powerful piece. I like how the reader is left to guess what is happening until the very last paragraph - then "ah, I see!"
Very well-written, only a couple of things I would change:

- [The fact of the matter was, that in a matter of minutes there would be nothing worth stealing anyway.]
I would change take out "The fact of the matter was" and leave it as "In a matter of minutes, there would be nothing worth stealing anyway." Having two "matters" in one sentence makes it a bit jumbled.

- [Within the blink of an eyelid...]
I think "Within the blink of an eye" would suffice here.

As I said, very well written though!