Car drivers have no consideration for other people. They park on pavements so that old people on scooters and mothers with pushchairs have to risk injury by going into the road. If there is a queue in towns invariably it is a driver parking on double yellow lines to pop into the bank or a take away. They complain about the cost of parking but can spend time using up petrol to find a free space. They speed in restricted areas, blow their horns impatiently if some other driver is felt to hold them up and angrily gesticulate at cyclists. In towns where the council has designed grass verges into the area, they park on the grass and churn this into mud. When anybody starts to apply the law all they can do is protest.Here is a short story I have written pointing out the dangers of motorists getting to insular in their belief that they are always in the right.
Connections!!!
by
Eddie Gubbins
They are pervasive! They are
everywhere! They flash! They make money for the government! They are not fair!
Nobody likes them! They are an intrusion into everybody’s life! They are an
echo of Big Brother from “
Nineteen Eighty four!” They should not be allowed to get away with this!
So thought John as he
changed into his black sweater and black trousers. As he pulled on his black
jacket, his heart raced at the thought that he was going to stand up to this
menace. By his actions this night, he and his friends would take one small step
in ridding the world of these things. He did not have words to describe how he
felt about their existence, creeping silently without notice along many streets
on the edges of towns and cities. They must be eliminated and not allowed to
proliferate like some alien species breeding their way to taking over the land.
Before leaving his house to
join his friends, John crept into the bedroom where his daughter Lisa lay
sleeping. He gently lifted the duvet and made sure she was comfortable.
Lovingly, he looked down at her young, innocent face framed by that shock of
blonde curls. He bent down and kissed her forehead. At the door, he turned and
took one last look at her face framed in the small night light she always
insisted on having beside her bed. She was smiling in her sleep, looking for
all the world to John like a little angel in a stain glass window.
Carol, his wife, was sitting
by the fire watching the late film on television and drinking her bed time
drink when he looked into the sitting room.
She looked up, smiled. “ I
will be in bed when you get back. You will be careful won’t you John?”
John kissed her cheek and
smiled in return. “ I am always careful when on a mission. See you later when I
get back.”
John had to admit to himself
that Carol knew what he was up to on those nights he left the house late. She
never objected, never tried to stop him going out, merely told him, as she did
this night, to be careful. Whenever he thought about it, John was never certain
whether she approved of what he was doing or not. Deep down he understood that
she let him get on with his campaign, avoiding any argument which might upset
the domestic harmony and in doing so, effect Lisa. Before leaving his house,
John picked up the package he had prepared earlier in the evening, checked the
contents and stuffed them into his shoulder bag.
Outside the house, it was
dim under the widely spaced street lights lining the road where he lived. As he came out of his drive, the lights
of a car parked further down the road from his house came on. Seeing this, John
walked quickly to the car. As he approached, the car door opened and he got
into the back, depositing his package onto the back seat. There were two men in
the car, both like John wearing dark clothes.
“ A good night for it,”
George remarked from the driving seat. “ Terry has the hoods.”
Terry grinned, his teeth
white in the dim light. John took the black balaclava from Terry and placed it
on the seat next to his bag. Once John was comfortable, George drove off
towards the outskirts of the town. Near a cemetery and a park, George found a
quiet parking spot, parked the car and sat watching the road. All was quiet.
With a grin at the others, he pulled his black balaclava over his head, nodded
to Terry and John and got out of the car. Terry and John followed, Terry
carrying a folded light ladder, John a shoulder bag.
With George leading, they
walked towards the main road, keeping close to the hedge which surrounded the
cemetery. As they approached the main road, George held up his hand as a signal
for Terry and John to stop. Looking up and down the road, George made certain
that nothing was in sight. He shrank further into the shadows when a car came
over the brow of the hill to his right and round the sharp bend in the road a
hundred yards from where they stood. The car slowed quickly as it came towards
the cemetery and passed the yellow box on top of a post near the edge of the
road. There was no flash as the car sped away, before slowing at the traffic
lights near the junction further down the road to their left.
Once all was quiet, George
waved and the three men moved out of the shadows of the hedge and ran across
the open space to the post. Terry assembled the ladder while George stood
watch. John placed the bag on the pavement and arranged some cans and wires on
the tarmac. Giving half of these to Terry, John climbed the ladder. Hurriedly,
he placed the wires around the yellow box and attached the cans to the lenses
and the cover for the camera film. When this was done, he reached down, took
the rest of the stuff from Terry and attached this to the back of the camera.
Sliding down the ladder, John lit the fuse as Terry folded the ladder away.
George signalled for them to run and they quickly rushed into the shadow of the
hedge by the cemetery. There was a wosh and suddenly flames engulfed the yellow
box.
At this, George turned away
and hurriedly led them back to the car. As they approached the car, they peeled
off their balaclavas and slowed to a walk as though they were three men
returning from the pub. By the time they were back in the car, the glow had
faded.
They laughed and applauded
once back in the car, patting each other on the back. Still laughing, George
started the car and drove back towards the main road. When they passed the
camera, it was blackened and drooping and obviously not working. They could not
help letting out another shout of joy.
“ One less for the money
grabbing government to make money out of,” Terry giggled as they sped back to
their homes. “ They should trust us motorists to drive safely without all this
nineteen eighty four stuff. I know when I am driving too fast and always slow
down.”
“ See you in the Royal Oak
on Friday, John,” George said as John got out of the car. “ We can talk about
which one will be next.”
“ See you Friday,” John
replied as he shouldered his bag, waved to Terry and walked the few yards to
his house.
All was quiet in the house,
the windows dark. In the hall Carol had, as usual, left the light burning. John
took off his coat and hung it on it’s peg in the hall before going through to
the kitchen to make a cup of coffee and stow away his bag. He sat for a while
thinking about their campaign and how successful they had been so far. Though
they had never tested his theory, he was convinced that most people supported
what he, Terry and George were doing. Sighing, he rinsed his cup, placed it
upside down on the draining board and went up the stairs.
He looked in at Lisa. She
lay on her back, her eyes tight shut, her blonde curls framing her face and a
beautiful smile on her lips. Crossing the floor silently, John kissed her
forehead and closed the door gently as he left her bedroom. Carol was asleep,
curled up under the duvet one hand under her cheek, her face looking so
peaceful in the light from the landing. John took off his clothes, slid into
the bed by her side and kissed her gently on the forehead.
The sun was shining on the
park making the grass appear more green than normal. The flowers in the flower
beds gave a flash of colour and the ducks on the pond looked up in anticipation
every time anybody walked by.
The little girl skipped
along the path, her blonde curls bouncing on her head and a smile on her face.
“ Look Mummy,” she called in an excited voice. “ The ducks want some bread. Did
we bring any?”
The woman walking by her
side smiled and reached into her bag. “ Here. I didn’t forget. Now you be
careful of the water.”
The little girl with the blonde
curls and washed out jeans, trotted across the grass to the pond. The ducks, as
though they had been waiting for this moment all afternoon, came squawking and
pushing across the pond to where the girl was standing. With an excited giggle,
the girl slowly broke the slice of bread into pieces and threw them into the
water. Her squeals of laughter were almost drowned out by the squawking of the
ducks as they fought over the scraps of bread.
“ Come along,” the woman
said taking her daughter’s hand. “ We have to get home to cook your daddy’s
dinner.”
The girl smiled her angelic
smile and skipped along beside her mother. They left the park and turned onto
the main road by the cemetery. Getting to a place along the road where there
was a traffic island in the centre, they paused to let the girl look right and
left and right again just as her mother had taught her. There was nothing in
sight. The girl looked curiously at the blackened yellow box drooping on its
pole like some tree which had been struck by lightening. She did not say
anything to her mother. They started across the road, then there was a roar as
a car came up over the brow of the hill turning sharply right passed the
camera. There was a squeal of tyres, the car bucked and rocked and then a sickening
bang as the car smashed into the little girl and her mother. They did not have
a chance. The car was travelling too fast in the knowledge gained from the
email grapevine that the camera was inoperable. After hitting the girl and her
mother, the car skidded uncontrolled and smashed into a wall by the cemetery.
Silence descended, broken only by the blaring sound of the car horn. People
came running, cars stopped and the smashed car was soon surrounded by helpers.
John followed the policeman
down the long, dimly lit, concrete corridor. Their shadows stalked along the
wall at their sides like ghosts accompanying Macbeth as he went to meet the
witches. Their footsteps echoed off into dark side passages. John felt numb. He
had felt numb inside ever since he had been called into the human resources
director’s office that afternoon. A policeman had been standing there by the
desk and as gently as possible had told him what had happened.
At the end of the corridor,
the policeman pushed open a door, asking John to wait. John stood by the door
hardly hearing the rumble of voices from inside the room. After a while, the
door opened and the policeman waved him inside. The room they entered was white
tiled with a row of what looked like over big filing cabinets to one side. In
the centre were two metal tables with white cloth covered shapes laying a on
top.
A man in a white boiler suit
smiled faintly at John and motioned him over to one of the tables. Taking hold
of the white cloth, he gently drew it back. The blonde curls were now revealed
framing a bruised face. The blue eyes were closed. John nodded trying
desperately not to sob out loud. The man in the white boiler suit replaced the
white sheet. Walking to the other table he lifted the white cloth. Carol lay
her face bruised and puffy. John nodded and turned away.
The policeman held open the
door to the room and led the way back down the corridor, the footsteps once
more tapping their echoes down dimly lit side passages leading to the depth of
the hospital. Their shadows accompanied them like the ghosts of John’s past
come to heckle him.
“ If those idiots had not
damaged that speed camera, the car might have been going slower and might have
been able to stop.” The words of the policeman dropped into the lengthening
silence of their passage along the corridor.
The novel An Ordinary Life by Edmund Gubbins is concerned with the way in which a great many people justify the things they do even when to others they are patently wrong. It is available for downloading as an ebook from Amazon of as a paperback.
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