What was it about his face? James knew the answer.
It was not a face. It was a mask. It was not real. What you saw was not what you got.
James smiled, pleased with himself for this little bit of amateur analysis. Raising his foot he smashed the heel of his shoe into the mask that was staring up at him…. All he heard was a low grunt and small clicks as bones fractured……but in James mind it echoed around the world….and the mask now had a real face.
The Rubicon had been crossed!
James left him and ran a hundred yards up the lake to where he knew a small rowing boat was tethered. He rowed it back to his slowly rousing father. Dragging his father into the water he tethered him to the boat. Casting partially off he waded back to the shore and spent a little time tidying up the spot, putting the chair in place, the flask by its side, the keepnet in the water and then a few moments removing his footprints. Getting back in the boat James quietly rowed out to the middle of the lake and stopped and took measure.
He had about another forty five minutes of darkness and wanted to use it to it's full. His father was coming round and starting to see and hear…..and felt the pain exploding in his head.
Seeing James sitting in the gloom before him he still struggled with understanding. Then he heard it. It was quiet and it was whispered from someone he knew but a voice he didn't recognize.
‘Hello……..’ said the soft voice. . ‘How are you…..you ok?’ Asked the smiling man child sitting in front of him.
His father writhed to release his bonds but it was no good. He was tied by his hands and feet and a rope around his chest which was now in the hand of James.
‘Do you hurt?’ James smiled again and moved over and pushed him into the water. As he started to go down James pulled on the rope and brought him back. His father could only breathe through his nose and that was a struggle. He was petrified and shaking with fear. James smiled and let go of the rope again. Down he went, into the black, cold water and after a few moments was pulled up again.
James grabbed the sellotape and ripped it off his face. He screamed with pain and it echoed round the lake. James knew it was risky to make a noise but it was unlikely he would be heard and it was worth it if he was.
He wanted him to breathe.
He wanted him to be terrified
He wanted him to scream
He wanted him to die……………
‘You see’ said James ‘it's not the drowning that's terrifying, it's the fear of drowning……..of dying….. And it's not being hit that scares, it's waiting for it to happen. You don't know when it's going to happen….. And you won't know how long I am going to keep you alive before you drown…….. Or perhaps I am not going to drown you……..? Who knows? We will have to wait and see…….just have to wait and see…..’
‘I am your father!’ I'll have you, you stupid little fucker!’
It wasn't really the right thing to say. If there was anything less likely to help his situation that was it….. James pulled back his arm and his fist smashed into his father's mouth. Blood flew everywhere. His father gagged as teeth found their way into his throat.
I am your father….
What a contradiction in terms that was. James had once looked up the dictionary definition of ‘father’ and he had memorised every word. He softly repeated it…..
‘……to act as a father to somebody, especially giving advice, comfort, and protection……….. Did you hear that? Advice, comfort and protection; not hate, jealousy, beatings, pain, fear……buggery’
‘What are you fucking on about?’ Asked his weeping, shaking father through a mouth that could hardly make words intelligible.
‘Nothing….you wouldn't understand. I was repeating the definition of ‘father’ and it's not one you would recognise…….. you fucking sadistic arsehole!’
James looked at him and smiled …………then let him slide back under the water.
This time he left him longer. James was aware of an amazing new feeling flooding through his very being. He could not put a word to it but later he knew what it was.
It was power.
It was having control over the life of another human being.
When he brought him back up he coughed water and struggled to breathe. James let him have long enough to breathe properly. Perhaps not exactly properly.
‘What do you want?’ he said weakly ‘Let me out and I will give you anything you want….’
His authority was gone and had given way to pleading and grovelling. James shook his head slowly. ‘I don't think you are in any position to give me anything………. I am going to take what I want and I don't need your permission for it…..’
‘What….. do…… you want……?’
James paused and thought deeply ‘I want to go home and you not be there….I want to talk and sing and read without you finding something wrong with it….I want an end to continual sarcasm…I want to live….. And to do that you have to die.’
He hit him in the mouth again and a young duckling swimming nearby took flight when it heard the sickening soft splat……James loosed his grip on the rope and let him slide back into the water, this time for longer.
When he came back up he was struggling for life. James pulled on the rope to get his head and shoulders into the boat. When they were resting on the side he said incongruously ‘Better?’
His father didn't acknowledge him, hardly conscious, death waiting to take him should he give up.
Who was this man?
Yesterday he was the devil incarnate; a sadistic, brutal paedophile. This morning…..? This morning he was a pathetic human being; half drowned, half dead with half a face.
Who was this man?
This man who had filled him with fear all his life? Who had terrorised, beaten and fucked him and who was omnipotent.
Who was he now?
What was he now?
James let out a big sigh and noticed how calm his muscles were. He smiled at the man, half conscious before him…….
‘Goodnight’ he said softly and gently moved some of his father's hair from off his face.
Picking up one of the oars, he swung it round behind him and swinging it with all his might, smashed him in the face. There was an almighty crunch as his nose flattened; teeth fell from his mouth and blood spurted into the air. Eyes ballooned in their sockets and he fell immediately into unconsciousness.
James felt an immense rush of power and in frenzy of unleashed rage and fury he kept bringing the oar down on his fathers head until it was unrecognisable and James was spent. Finished, he wanted to scream, ape like, animal like, at the top of his voice but contained himself until calm enveloped him which he savoured for a few moments…….
He let go of the rope and let his father submerge for a while. James left him under long enough to kill him but there was no need; the oar had done that…..
He pulled him up, untied him and let the dead body that was once his tormentor slide back into the dark murky deep. He sat and looked at the watery grave for several moments then realised he had to be gone. As he picked up the oars and located them in the rowlocks he noticed, as the gloom surrendered to the morning, a newspaper floating close to the boat. The large headline shouted out ‘Big Brother is STILL watching you!’
He looked quizzically for a moment then remembered the year was 1984 and they were quoting Orwell.
‘Oh no he isn't’ he thought ‘Oh no he isn't………..’
With tiredness taking over his mind and body he rowed the boat back to its mooring spot and ran back home; his wet clothes clinging and his shoes squelching.
It was two days before they dragged the lake but found nothing. It was deep, weed strewn and inhospitable. They assumed he had drowned as his fishing tackle was there and he was always a bit of a card when it came to the odd tipple as witnessed by the empty whisky bottle. Although it could also be a coincidence that the barmaid from the local pub had handed in her notice quickly and left the area several week
s earlier. Even now he could be shagging her in a bed sit somewhere. Who knows?
He was a bit of a lad was Charlie. Fuck anything that moved……
And bloody good company…..bloody good company.
His mother arranged, in a strange act of denial, to have a plaque put on the Remembrance Wall of the local crematorium that stated
To a loving
husband and father
who will be missed by
family, friends and all who knew him
The day after, James tore it down. He headed to the local tip and had his own burial service for the plaque…… Digging a hole he put in the plaque, urinated over it and covered it up with foul smelling detritus.
For a while after that James went off the rails and used aggression to solve every problem. Initially it was wonderful.
The release of anger to invoke calm.
The threat of fear to get control.
The application of force to solve a problem.
But as the years of bottled rage expended he realised that the credo was also self defeating. A one way trip to nowhere. Being the continual aggressor was no different than being the victim.
Better but no different
Both were continual, blinkered states and neither offered a balanced view or comfortable entree into anything.
There was somewhere in-between.
A general passivity behind which a ferocious aggression could be unleashed if necessary.
And, if necessary, annihilate anyone or anything that posed a threat…and by any means.
That was better……
That was James…..
James James….
H Chapter 14
Holiday
H and Benny were located on the west side of Barbados where the island was lush and tranquil. The private estate where they were staying was several miles from the ocean, but its mount side location gave magnificent views of its bluey green hue and when one of the frequent but short tropical storms arrived they watched it play with the water creating an effervescent white froth which died down as quickly as it had arrived.
When they were not on the beach they would set off in the beat up little mini moke, usually getting lost but not caring whether they did as time was unimportant. After several days they visited the wild east coast where the Atlantic winds lash the shores and create large forceful waves for the surfers. It had violence, boundless energy, spirit and was completely untamed. Benny knew that what she saw in front of her was a natural representation of the man at her side.
They visited the caves with the stalagmites and stalactites, the distillery and assorted ‘places of interest’ which were really of little interest but they ended up going anyhow and it provided the locals with a living.
Benny arranged for them to go diving and they went to Carlisle Bay where several wrecks were located. After a day there they were persuaded by the local diving company to return that evening for a night dive. H and Benny had never dived at night and Benny was dubious about their safety but in the end she was pleased she had succumbed. The night time offered a totally new perspective to the underwater world, the coral taking on new colours and the eyes of the marine life lighting up in the beams of the lights incorporated in their headgear.
Two days later they went to another location just off the West Coast where, sitting bolt upright on the bottom of the sea in one hundred and thirty feet of water stood the SS Stavronikita. The Greek freighter had run aground in the early seventies and then later that decade it had been towed out and sunk and become the premier wreck to explore. Going down for thirty minutes they found that after almost 20 years of submersion, the wreck was a hive of activity and they found her hull adorned with soft and hard corals, sponges and the soft tree like gorgonians. Atop her masts and upper cabins swarmed Sergeant Majors, Tangs, Blue Striped Drum Cromis and Red Hinds.
At the end of their adventure they gently rose, waiting the allotted time at each level to adjust to the pressure change. After a break and a cold drink they went swimming just off the wreck where they saw Barracudas, Mackerels and Turtles, common visitors to the wreck area.
Lying on the beach they were occasionally approached by the odd vendor of cool silks, soothing balms, trinkets etcetera and Benny had just politely declined one when she thought for a moment and said ‘James……’
‘Uh?’
‘You know how I've led a ‘wild child’ sort of life what with being the mistress of that Mafia Godfather, living with the Aga Khan, mistress to Saddam Hussein and kinky sex with Tony Blair and his cabinet in the Cabinet Office……..that sort of thing’
‘Yeah…..’
‘Well………….I've never actually smoked cannabis…..’
‘Poor little wild child. How less decadent you must have felt’.
He went back to reading his book knowing full well what was coming next.
‘James………..’ she said in a soft, child like ‘can we have an ice cream’ sort of way.
‘No’
‘What do you mean ‘no’. You didn't know what I was going to ask. …Well ok you did but you're supposed to support me, help me develop….’
He turned over and stared at her lovely bosom ‘I think you are developed quite enough my love’
‘Let's have some cannabis….please…please’
It had been many years since H had tried cannabis and it didn't do too much for him then other than make him giggle, feel hungry and think that the music he was listening to at a friends house was the best music he had ever heard which, he found out the next day after he bought the cd, was not quite true.
‘Ok’ said H ‘I'll sort it’
He sought out Snowman who came round daily offering relief for burns with natural aloe vera which he squeezed directly from the plant.
Two days later, on the patio of the villa, H was interlacing the cannabis with some cigarette tobacco he had bought, putting it in roll-up paper and inserting the filters from the discarded cigarettes. He lit one and gave it to Benny and then another for himself. Benny took a puff and blew the smoke out immediately.
‘No Benny that sort of ruins what you're trying to achieve. You have to take it in to your lungs…..hold it there…..and then exhale……like this’
He took a deep drag, inhaled and choked. Coughing and spluttering he grabbed the gin and tonic to cool his throat.
‘My man’ said Benny ‘So butch…….’
H looked at her and sighed with resignation. After several attempts they were toking away; toke, cool drink, toke, cool drink…….. until the joints were finished.
‘Is that it….’ asked a disappointed Benny ‘I don't feel much different’
‘Maybe it was crap, or maybe I got the mix between the baccy and the ganga wrong. I'll do another couple’.
Half way through the second and Benny's head was starting to spin.
‘Let's go inside on the couch and then you can sleep if you want’ suggested H.
Her eyes were glazing so he helped her indoors and laid her at one end of the large couch and he sat facing her at the other. He continued smoking and was aware that he was starting to feel wrong. For a fleeting second he felt panic sweep through him but then it subsided. What the fuck was that? Suddenly Benny let out a scream and her whole body went rigid. Her eyes moved up and a dreadful fear masked her face.
‘Oh no’ she pleaded ‘no………’ and started to cry.
H moved quickly to her and cradled her in his arms. ‘Its ok, it's ok’ he said soothingly, holding her close to him and rocking her gently.
He felt the panic sweep through him again and fought to keep control. Benny screamed! ‘Go away, go away…leave me alone’ she pleaded to whatever demon was invading her mind ‘please go away’
She broke into uncontrollable sobbing. H was struggling to concentrate. He could see Benny's face clearly but if he looked past her the room was not recognisable. It swam in front of him and there were no defined colours.
Benny's
body went rigid and after almost a minute she shook violently. After a few seconds her body went limp and she didn't move.
H was panic stricken. What to do? Call a doctor? How the fuck do you call a doctor? He could hardly see the fucking phone let alone call a doctor! And where the fuck was a doctor's number? Take her to the nearest town in the moke? Fucking hardly! He didn't know what to do…….. He didn't know what the fuck to do!!!!
Giving himself time to calm down he cradled her closer to him and spoke soothingly to her. Rocking her gently like a tiny child he whispered gently in her ear.
‘It's ok my love, everything will be ok……it's just temporary, it will go away’
Benny started to stir and she slowly opened her eyes. Taking a very deep breath she said ‘Holy Mother. That was bad. ….I have never known fear like that in my life. I could actually see the fear approaching like a black cloud….’
She ran her fingers through her sweat drenched hair and let out a long lungful of air. ‘Christ….’
H was overcome with relief ‘You ok now?’ She nodded. ‘Do you want some water?’
She shook her head. H moved back to the other end of the couch. His head was still swimming and he was still struggling to focus properly but he could cope with that. Then, just as suddenly as it had left her, Benny convulsed again and her body went rigid. Panic swept through H and he moved to her again and took her in his arms.
‘It will be ok’ he said softly ‘it will pass’
‘Please tell it to go away’ she pleaded ‘go away….go away…..it's coming…..its coming’ and her terrified scream filled the room.
She went into her own world and sobbed and clung to H who could do nothing but hold her tight and keep talking and let her know he was there. If she could hear him ….?
Over ten minutes later it left her again and she came back to her own world. Her hair was soaking wet, her face haggard, her eyes tired. H felt incredible anguish but he smiled at her and said ‘Hello…….you having fun in there?’
Since the first attack forty minutes had elapsed.
‘I'll get you some water’
H's head was much clearer; he went to the kitchen and filled two glasses. As he turned off the tap he heard the scream…….He ran, with the glasses slopping over the place, back to Benny who had returned to her inner hell. He could do nothing but cradle her again and keep talking. Just wait for the effects to wear off…..just wait….and while he was waiting decide how to kill the bastard that had given him this shit! When he could he got her to sip water. He assumed it would help her but in truth he had absolutely no fucking idea what so ever what he was doing……..it could actually be making her worse!
H When Hell Is the Favourable Option...... Page 7
