ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
Enthusiastic about writing fiction and achieving publication. Writing several novels at this time. [April 2005]
Loop Gs Blackshaw
I was thirty-three when I realised the world was wrong. I remember it vividly now. Thirty-three years, nine months and seven days old. I lay in bed in a state of irritated sub-dream, thoughts of Michelle running through my mind.
It was 2.30AM. My wife Miranda slept soundly beside me. Sometimes she moved- a slight snore or snuffle. I was itchy and warm and I contemplated my life. Miranda was a good woman. We had been together for seven years. I loved her but she was not, I realised, the one I was supposed to have been with. I had squandered my opportunities for the life that had been intended for me. I knew it was Michelle I was destined to have been with in my life, but the realisation brought only discontent and sorrow and that ineffable feeling of suffocation in the soul. I loved Michelle from the moment we met in high school aged thirteen… yet where, what instant did it go wrong? Where did I diverge from the path intended for me that set me on this hellish road I had walked ever since? This surreal life… this substitute existence without satisfaction that now kept me awake and suspended in regret.
I felt the eyes of God upon me as I reminisced over my life thus far. I was a policeman now. I could see that this was far from my dream of being a writer. Being a policeman now seemed to be my penance for my earlier wrongs and cowardice.
I flipped back in my mind to the year after high school. After much contemplation I had summoned the courage to ask Michelle on a date. The date had been a disaster. I was too poor and my car was a wreck. I took her to a war movie and she cried. I drove too fast on the way home. So many mistakes in one night! She never wanted a second date. That was the last opportunity I had had to make a good impression and I had blown it. If only I could go back in time to that night, have a nice car, listen and show kindness to her instead of nervousness and inconsideration. There was no chance though of having a nice car… when I was eighteen I had no job, no money. I would have to go back in time further, get a job, save for years…but I was only eighteen. No, I had to go back to that disgraceful day when I was offered the chance to be her hero but I showed cowardice and complicity.
When we were thirteen, my friend Jim and some other boys harassed Michelle and another girl in the classroom during recess. They chased them around and the other girl escaped but Michelle was trapped. Ryan held her and Jim fondled her breasts. I was shocked but instead of acting against them to protect her I nervously joined in, tickling her as she ran out of the classroom.
I think she hated me for many years after that. Oh how I regretted that instant of immaturity and cowardice.
In my semiconscious state on the bed that night I felt close to time. It was as if all my life I had been so focussed on the future that it was always drawing me in. Now though the past seemed so close.
Flashes of faces came and went rapidly… unhappy moments, moments of fleeting desire, always Michelle at the centre of this swirling sea. Then it stopped and all that was left was a darkness with shimmering qualities. An occasional bright spark shot through. Then gradually the memory of that day in class became vivid. The smells, the coolness of the room, the texture of the carpet and the conspiracy of the boys forming. The words rang solid, no longer a hollow memory… I was there.
For a second I looked around, feeling chills and goose-bumps in my thirteen year old body. Michelle was in the corner now. Jim and Ryan holding her. They touched her breasts. My anger swelled and I fought back the coward within. It was time.
“Let her go!” I shouted.
They laughed at me, then suddenly turned serious.
“OK, we'll bash you then.” They said.
I approached them boldly and punched Ryan in the face.
I was punched and thrown around. In my dark haze of pain at some point Michelle ran out of the room.
At lunch time, nursing my bruised face, Michelle approached me and hugged me.
“Thankyou for helping me.” She said.
“You're welcome.” I said. The pain in my face was meaningless now as happiness swelled within me.
Jim was my friend no more. I suffered his taunts and attacks and we often fought throughout high school.
Now again I remember Miranda sometimes- her soft, nervous laugh. Her cooking- surprise cakes and fried chicken. I remember our holidays together in Japan and Tasmania. I remember holding her gently as we stood on the beach watching the sunset and saying “I love you more than anything else in the world my sweetheart.”
And she replied “Me too Gary.”
These memories of the future haunted me for many years. Tonight I paddle between the seas in my mind. I touch Michelle besides me in the bed. Time has looped again and I must make my decision.
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