This month we faced a new approach to our story writing, one we all thought would be difficult to follow but we shouldn’t have been worried.
The group produced amazing stories that our remit of – include a children’s entertainer, a Rotarian, a post card and set in a fast food outlet, had seemed impossible.
Our take on the assignment brought out a set of stories that varied from true accounts to comical pieces and pieces that brought us close to tears.
The standard of writing produced by this group is truly excellent with the gang raising the bar every time.
I wish you could read them all not just the monthly choice. Perhaps one day we’ll publish our own anthology?? Maybe!!
This month’s story is called ‘The Reunion’ by Jane Jones
The Reunion
There was a certain peace in the changing room. It might have been small and cramped, but for the moment it was James’ haven. It felt as though the outside world couldn’t get to him when he was there.
Deep down he didn’t want to be there but if he wanted the rent paid and food on the table there was no choice.
James looked at the pale face in the cracked mirror, there were shadows under his eyes; testimony of the troubled nights he’d had. It wasn’t the face of a young man anymore more the face of someone that was living a hard, lonely life. He let out a deep sigh and reached for the cloth bag at his feet. This was his bag of magic, it held the tools of his trade. This bag gave him the means to disguise the inner sadness that never left him.
“Let the transformation begin”, he said. His voice sounding hollow in the cold, tiled room. He reached into the bag and pulled out the pan stick that would be his armour, his disguise for the day.
How had it come to this? It was hard to see where the wrong choices had been made, but they had been.
His fingers worked quickly, each stroke obliterating the past, creating an identity that would never truly be his.
He paused and reached back into the depths of the bag tracing the edge of the small pocket where he kept the last memory of the life he’d once had.
James pulled out the bent postcard and spread it open. The colours were faded now but the memory it roused was sharp as ever. He traced his finger over the sandy beach, and the boats that bobbed forever on the deep, blue sea. The gaudy beach huts filled him with memories. That had been the best summer ever, long days with people he had loved.
Mum, Dad, brothers, he’d had it all then but no longer.
He knew now that the home he had walked out on was the only place he’d felt really safe. On the nights that he was forced too wandered the empty streets he felt that keenly. He gripped the edge of the washbasin forcing the tears away. No point thinking about it now.
He’d made his choice and walked away from all he had known. He’d hidden his tracks to ensure they would never find him. At first it was his way of protecting his newly found freedom but now he couldn’t bear it if they saw the empty sad life he’d had built for himself.
A banging door brought him back to reality and he started to apply the rest of the make up that would hide the sadness.
His face changed and James disappeared, the face that stared back at him now was that of Jolly. Jolly had not a care in the world that big painted on smile was proof of that. His costume was as garish as it was perfect. The orange hair protruded from the edge of the tartan cap and the bright yellow flower in his lapel was ready to spray anyone who came near. His sleeves and pants hid the tools of his trade, bunches of paper flowers, long ribbons, a whistle and more.
Jolly was ready. He turned and unbolted the door of his sanctuary and stepped out.
The cheers were genuine, the children at the party were thrilled to see the clown approaching, each waiting for the moment he would start the magic.
James like a robot began his act. The children laughed and shrieked, they hung on to every word, joined in with the silly songs and ducked when his carnation sprayed them with water.
James glanced around the decorated room. Balloons and streamers changed the usually drab MacDonalds into a promised land of fun for the children. He had been here so often, the routine was well practiced so James gave no thought to what was coming next. His performance was automatic delivered with a gusto he did not feel.
While the children scrambled on the floor to pick up the sweets he’d sent high into the air James caught sight of a lone customer. He didn’t look like the other parents, this man seemed focussed on him alone.
The man intrigued him. He was dressed in a dark suit that had cost more than James could hope earn in a month. His crisp white shirt, the pressed trousers, the polished shoes all contrasted with the gaudy colours and the baggy trousers James was wearing putting him on edge.
Janes was reminded of a time long ago when his father had worn such a suit.
The memory made him stop, the children sensed the difference and looked around following his gaze.
The man stood up and moved slowly towards James. The gold rotary tie pin caught the disco lights and created a beam of light that settled on James. He stared, both transfixed and incredulous. His heart began to beat so fast he could hardly catch his breath.
The man stood and took a step nearer still. He spoke only one word as he put out his arms …… “Son”.
James felt his whole body go limp and stumbled towards the man. The children had stopped their laughing and watched, waiting for the clown to turn the stumble into a comic twist.
The fall didn’t come, the man stepped forward quickly and caught James in strong comforting arms.
“ I never gave up son, never stopped looking, never stopped loving you. I’ve got you and I’ll always be here.”
James’ arms reached up and hugged his father. The smile painted on his face was at last true. He was smiling on the inside too.
But l want to know why he left…
That’s another story Jean x
Aww xx
So lovely , Jane quite brought a tear to my eye xx