Life and Death Read online



  Life and Death

  Samayesan Hoole

  Copyright 2014 by Samayesan Hoole

  Contents

  Closure

  Jump

  Human

  Him

  Don’t Look

  The Shot

  Rescue

  Closure

  ‘What do you think we’ll see there?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The other side.’

  ‘It ends like this, buddy. This world’s the only one you get to see.’

  ‘There’s gotta be more to this, Jimmy. Life can’t just vanish into nothing.’

  ‘That’s exactly what life does, every damn time.’

  ‘Everyone’s got a soul. Souls don’t just disappear.’

  ‘No such thing as a soul, Tom. Those cross-waving hypocrites been lying all along. You’re just another heap of dust.’

  ‘That doesn’t make it easy.’

  ‘I mean that in the best way. Best heap of dust I ever had the pleasure of meeting.’

  ‘So there’s no God? Just black?’

  ‘Don’t sweat over it. Once you fade out, there’s nothing to see or feel. Not even black.’

  ‘He must be up there, man. Just waiting to throw out an arm and heave us up into heaven.’

  ‘Tom, saying there is something up top, you really think he’ll be all grateful and letting us into his pleasure palace? Things we’ve done, you and me, we don’t deserve no kindness.’

  Ready

  ‘You’ve been a real comfort, Jimmy. Making me all relieved.’

  ‘Don’t want you believing no lies, Tom. You face down the truth as a man, or you run the other way and lose yourself. And you don’t want to go down as another creature of delusion.’’

  Aim

  ‘I’m scared, Jimmy.’

  Jimmy looks across at Tom, a shadow of a smile playing on his thin lips.

  ‘Just accept it. There’s no regretting this.’

  Fire

  Jump

  Just drift forward and let go. Smooth and quick, one motion. The string’s broken, the string’s gone. A leaf dropping into the unknown. Don’t think. Forget those pictures. Fall as nothing, into nothing.

  5,4,3,2..

  Deep breath. Again.

  5..

  The throbbing water looks fierce. Even Jesus wouldn’t know the lurkers under that dark swirling surface. A different spot? It’s probably calmer a mile downstream. A great thought, if I wanted to live. Will this evil under my feet even manage the job? There are much more effective things I could be diving onto. People, concrete. But I don’t want to be rearranged too much, one whole piece would be nice, never mind the colour. I’m sure there are some people who wouldn’t want to see me spread nice and thick over a pavement. Besides pavement fixers.

  3,2…

  Damnit. Sky’s a shade lighter now; have I really been failing that long? I should wait for the dark, I don’t want an audience.

  It’s kind of beautiful, the orange creeping across the grey. My last sunrise. Maybe.

  Human

  It’s not like I want to give up. It’s not like I want anything but the sight of another human being and some sweet form of safety. Forget that, I just want water. The touch of it as it breaks around my fingers. The taste of plentiful nothing. The sight of colourless splendour. The gold and silver orbs have each traced their way across the sky twice since I last saw the splash of water. A trickle. A drip. Maybe something of anything lies beyond that barren mound. Rock, sand, that’s all I’ve been allowed. But leave this one small retreat from the shimmering blaze? Die, wilting away under that furnace? Here at least I can slowly ease out from this desperate fuck-up of a situation. I should have just stayed by the torn wreck of my downed Betty.

  No-one would find my body here. Lost from earth and time. How many years would they keep believing?

  *

  The little fox perked its head up and watched curiously as the slender human crept out into the light, stumbled, and fell. The sun kept watching, the fox didn’t.

  Him

  I don’t like the way he looks at me. Creepy fuck. Every now and then...never expected...but every now and then, I’ll glance to the side and he’ll be there. Silent. Still. Staring. Not a hint of anything in his eyes, he’ll just be there. What’s his problem? I ask him that. Don’t get a response normally, once or twice I think he mouthed ‘you’. Which doesn’t help anything. I just move on and out the room, leaving him to it. Hoping he’ll get tired of his stupid game. But he doesn’t, always back for more fun in the way of having no fun. Boring, weird, little Andrew. I’d drown him again if I could.

  Don’t Look

  ‘So I was walking to the bar, harmless, acting harmless, when this guy grabbed me by the shoulder and turned me around...’

  ‘Describe him for me.’

  ‘I’m not a man for faces. Looked like a meathead, short cropped hair, angry face. That’s about it.’

  ‘Were you intoxicated?’

  ‘No, that’s just me and faces. We don’t mix.’

  ‘Go on then, what did the guy say?’

  ‘He was like “why did you smash past me?” But I’m the gentle type, wouldn’t try those stunts. He was looking for a fight. Wanted an apology.’

  ‘How did you respond?’

  ‘Appropriately...I can’t make compromises, look what happened in World War 2.’

  ‘So you said...?’

  ‘I said “not today, champ.” Then I got sucker-punched. Bouncer came up quick after that, last I saw of the angry dude. You see this mark here? Mind you, I...’

  ‘You didn’t go looking for him?’

  ‘Nah man, live and let live. Besides, I forgot the face.’

  ‘You forgot the face. Well, Mr. Grayson was reported missing, hasn’t been seen since the night of that incident.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That sucks, man.’

  ‘I suppose that’s true.’

  ‘Look, if there’s anything I can help you with...’

  ‘Thank you for the time, Mr. Bryan.’

  *

  I watched the policeman disappear beyond the bend. Did that go well? In my head it did, my shocked face was on point, but coppers must be good at face-reading. Did I glance at the garden behind him? All he would have needed was a look. The recently turned soil out back was hard to miss, and there was a hand still sticking out the last time I gave a check. I grunted a curse and walked out into the fresh air, maybe I could try feeding the dog instead.

  The Shot

  ‘The duel will begin, on my count.’

  The folk of Hershaw have gathered in droves around the muddied street, excited at the thought of entertainment finally reaching their little town. I set myself, feet planted firm, shoulders hunched, and stare straight ahead till everyone and everything fades from focus. Everything but me and Billy under the dying sun. Not an hour gone since we were playing our hands at the saloon table. His mouth is now twisted in a vicious snarl, eyes glinting.

  ‘One.’

  I turn from Billy and take a measured stride away. No sound to hear but old Marston’s hoarse voice.

  ‘Two.’

  Another step. Another age. I can feel my hand shaking slightly as it hovers above the holster. Four years of that same trick and I hadn’t been caught playing foul once. Till darn Billy looked the wrong way.

  ‘Three.’

  Just that one more sound. Coiled for action. My heart now thrashing around like a stricken child. All this for a game of cards?

  ‘Four.’

  A whirl of motion.

  Bang

  I hear the roar of laughter escaping Billy’s figure.

  Missed.

  Bang.


  Rescue

  The soldier was crushed beneath the rubble when I found him. A little grey on the face, a bloodied leg, but plenty alive. His struggles weren’t much help against the wreckage that had clambered on top of him. Some luck that I had heard his hoarse screams drifting out from deep within the abandoned school. Which sure had reason to be empty now. A blast of mortar had made ugly work of the boxed walls.

  ‘Jesus, I thought this was it.’

  His voice sounded familiar. Sickly strong.

  ‘Is the town lost? There can’t be much time, get me out!’

  ‘The Russians will have their boots on the streets any moment. The 12th Volksgrenadier division are in flight.’

  The man went red beneath the dust.

  ‘Scheisse! Get these bricks off me!’

  A mean beak of a nose set against features otherwise measured to the Führer’s Aryan dream. The ringing from the barrage of explosions still swam between my ears, trying to block all thoughts. Who was this guy?

  ‘Who do you serve under?’

  He cut his frantic struggle short to stare at me, trying to make some sense of the question and the situation. But I had him now, the picture finally linked with memory. The face that had mocked me when I had wilted from plastering the brains of a Jewish family against the wall, all those years back in the Warsaw Ghetto. The voice that had sneered as he shoved me to the side and proceeded to mark a hole in the heads of the screaming mother, then the cowering father, and finally the vacant-eyed son.

  ‘Was that such a difficult thing, täuschen?’

  Only it was. It always was.

  The noise was still clanging through my brain. I didn’t want to spend another second in this ashen hall.

  His voice reached a new pitch of desperation as I turned and walked back over the fallen door. No survivors to report to the Major.

  ‘What...what are you doing?’

  Helpless. I didn’t spare a look or a word for my fellow soldier, he would have his ending soon enough. The Russians were coming.

  Clearing

  Wolf buried his face deep in Mother’s fur. Why didn’t she move? The rain was forming pools around her, but still she was silent. He had wobbled out eagerly to meet Mother’s return from the hunt, only to find her lying against the grass. The air smelt bad, Mother smelt bad. Where was the wet lick on the muzzle she always gave him?

  *

  Joe gently moved the branch to the side and swung the rifle till the little wolf cub was in his sights. The creature was wandering aimlessly in the clearing, battered by the incessant whip of rain, a lost soul without a mother’s nudge. It had no idea what was lying beyond the open patch of muddied grass. Joe’s finger rested on the trigger. For the cub’s sake, he should end it now. The wet ball of fur had no chance. It was easy prey without its mother, and there was no way it was finding any food by itself. Joe had killed what was probably the father, a week earlier by the field, after it had killed two of his stock. The mother had to be dealt with, so he had come looking. This would be finishing the job. But it didn’t feel right.

  *

  Wolf smelt something different in the air. Not the strangeness of Mother, not the stench of water striking green. This was new. He was curious now, plodding towards the leaves where the scent was coming from. A long stick was aimed his way. Behind it, a face. What the face was, he had no idea. He stopped, the stick made him uneasy. He yelped, his voice wavering.

  *

  The little thing was still staring right at him. Wasn’t it afraid? Joe’s finger was pressed tight against the trigger, but that extra touch didn’t seem to be in him. No thoughts when he shot the mother, scampering back to the den. But there was nothing in this beast that he could kill or let die with an easy mind. Joe gave a weary sigh and moved towards the transfixed cub. Debby and Rachel would be delighted with their new playmate.

  The Soldier

  ‘Elumbu!!’

  Master Harin was striding towards the group, waving that taped cane of his. Another drill. Thakshanth scrambled quickly to his feet along with the rest. The sun was at its highest, flaring up mercilessly against a stainless backdrop, trying to force him back down to the mess of grass on sand. The pang would not leave his stomach. This was like any other march, any other exercise. But it felt wrong.

  ‘In your lines! Guns loaded, now!’

  Thakshanth ignored his burning legs and ran amongst the ordered confusion, finding his place on the edge of the forming line.

  ‘Now! Hurry!’

  Thakshanth clicked his AK-47 into place and stole a look at the faces around him. Sullen, staring vacantly to the front. Resembling strange shells of the friends, his only friends, that he had known for over a year. The fancy speeches given by Master Harin...the others...they didn’t feel so real now.

  A booming sound cracked through the air and Thakshanth stepped back into the boy behind him. The ground had trembled.

  ‘March forwards! Now!’ There was an edge to Master Harin’s voice.

  The children knew nothing but to obey, moving through the last of the thicket. The ground opened up in a vast expanse of hard sand, broken here and there by patches of water left by the sea. Thakshanth could see a mess of barbed wires on the horizon. And faint flickers of movement. The enemy Sinhalese. No exercise. This was it. This was real.

  Again a shuddering blast.

  Thakshanth felt a jab in the small of his back as the boy behind him urged him on. He could hear the screams of his mother now, as they dragged him away from the clay hut by the sea. But her face, he wasn’t sure anymore. Life before was a blurring fade of memories.

  The jab of the rifle came back, harsher.

  ‘Move Thakshanth! Master will see you!’

  Thakshanth stuttered forward back to his line. His hands were clammy against the grip of the gun. He was only thirteen. Not enough for this.

  Another explosion. Louder. Much louder.

  Thakshanth turned and ran.

  An Ending

  It feels like a dream, one that’s slowly fading away.

  I kick desperately at the ground till my back reaches the stump of the wall that remains, a dark trail in my wake. I lean back, hands still pressing tight against the flesh, blood streaming between my fingers. I had felt invincible, marching towards the Tsar’s minions. No counting for the men who had found an ugly ending in the sights of my rifle. That didn’t matter. What mattered were the sharp stabs of pain in my gut that followed. And here I am, unmanned. Waiting for the end. Knowing death cannot be cheated this time. The agony is second nature to this helplessness.

  They don’t spare a glance for me; a silent, still figure amongst the chaos. This is the worst of the Eastern Front. A narrow street reducing the battle to a heaving swarm of brutality. Soldiers swinging bayonet against bayonet, rolling around on the mud and rubble, it all seems so distant to me. The gunfire and explosions come as faint thuds against the backdrop, and the men themselves move in a harmless blur. I don’t care for them. I don’t care for who is winning, who I fight for. Germans, Russians, it all feels empty now, the red glow of war meaningless against the flame of life.

  I close my eyes to the world. The pain sweeping through my stomach is starting to sink to a new depth. And I am falling down with it. No light twinkling above the surface, nothing to swim back up to. Just me against the expanse of blue darkness. Floating, falling. I can still hear the music of battle from an age away, like an old radio playing to an empty house.

  I wonder what is next. After the dream draws to a close, after my back finds the ocean floor. Is there something lying in the beyond? Even just an end to the feel of pain is a story welcome enough. I hold no fear for the next chapter. Peace is stalking me, approaching gently. The vast blue space is swallowing everything.