INSIDE 

I know people mean to be kind but it doesn’t help to be told that I will get better, I want to be better now!  It is all so ridiculous, I am not a vegetable.  I can see, feel, hear and think it is just that I have problems getting words out.  It seems an awfully long way from my mind to my mouth.  It is a bit like trying to squeeze the very last bit of toothpaste out of an extremely old, stiff tube, or perhaps, even more like giving birth.  I suppose it could be worse, I could be dead.

The world seems very beautiful today.  I think I am pleased to be alive though I never realised how much I need to communicate.  There is so much we take for granted.  Once we have learned to talk we expect always to be able to do it like walking or laughing. I don’t remember being a baby but it must be jolly hard work learning all these things the first time.

What a lot of fuss I am making.  I can talk really, it is just that the word I want often seems to be playing a version of “hide and seek”.  I can sense it – almost see it – waiting just out of reach taunting me.

 My friend, Marion, is coming to take me out today, we are going to have coffee at that new café in the High Street.  I presume she thinks of it as her good deed for the day, helping the afflicted! No, she is too good a friend.  Well I suppose it gives my existence a purpose, helping other people feel good, (maybe I am missing a wonderful business opportunity there!)  It is nice of her though and it will be good to be doing something normal.

I must not let myself become bitter and twisted.  After all what Have I got to complain about really?  I ought to be thinking about all those people so much worse off than me, but I can’t see them and I don’t know them whereas I know me very well.

 

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This café is really not too bad.  The coffee is good, the cakes are wonderfully naughty and the staff are friendly and cheerful, what more could you want?  My vantage point here is marvellous, I can see everything that is going on in the street without being particularly noticeable myself.

I do wish that odious little boy would stop staring at me like that.  I don’t think I look especially odd now that my hair has grown back.  Why don’t parents teach their children that it is rude and upsetting to stare at people?  Maybe I should say something to his mother she may not realise what he is doing.  No, that really would mark me out as peculiar, I might not be able to get the words out.  Too late anyway, they’re leaving.  There they go.  I must say she doesn’t seem very interested in her child, I am not sure that I blame her.  There she goes across the street, followed by juni.... Oh! No!  Stop him someone! Oh no! Oh no!  Oh no! That’s horrible!

Could I have saved him if I could have cried out?  That grunt was just pathetic.  I think I saw the car in plenty of time; I just couldn’t react quickly enough or dredge up a word.  I suppose in a way it is my fault if that child is dead.  I hope he is in some ways that car must have mangled him pretty badly.  I know, only too well, what a half-life feels like, if you lose your independence.  Still he was far too young to die.  I know he was annoying me but I did not require such harsh retribution.

Why couldn’t I react more quickly?  Though, what could I have done?  Maybe if I could have shouted out, maybe if I had banged on the window, maybe.....  OhI don’t know!  I didn’t anyway and now the child maybe dead.      

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THE TOYBOX      

Or

TWIT-TWHOO 

– a modern parable

 

All the toys were kept in a big old chest-of-drawers.  It was not a particularly attractive piece of furniture.  Once it had been painted a nice clean white with brightly coloured knobs, now it was scuffed and scratched.

There were 651 toys altogether, one for each child in the school though many of them were just little plastic soldiers or building blocks.  The toys had accepted a hierarchy that was based partly on endurance and partly on popularity with the children; there was a tradition that there should be a Head Toy.  Recently an especially hard faced imitation china doll had been in charge and now it was a drab, grey, stuffed owl.  The Owl thought that he had risen to the dizzy heights of Head Toy because he was the best representation of a living creature.  He had never seen a real owl.

Most of the toys were kept in two big drawers of the chest.  The Owl had a special corner of the drawer with blue knobs where he liked to be surrounded by his friends.  Some he had known for a very long time, others had been invited into the corner quite recently at a time when Owl had been trying to pretend that he was not just a boring stuffed toy but could turn himself into a real bird.  They all knew, however. That if they wanted to keep their places in the corner they must be NTO (nice to Owl)

Quietly sitting deep in the corner of the drawer was the Knitted Policeman.  His task was to help Owl by making sure the little plastic soldiers did what Owl wanted them to do.  He was not very good at his job, but he was Owl’s special friend.

The other drawer, the one with the red knobs, also had a special corner.  This one was led by a partially inflated balloon though it was difficult to see how he had got there as the rest of the drawer was full of little metal cars and building blocks

There was one more drawer at the bottom of the chest where all the broken and unwanted toys were put, this one had yellowy/greeny/browny/sludge coloured knobs.  Inside there was an old ‘Action Man’ that had once been dropped down the lavatory where he had turned a funny colour, some dolls with torn clothes, a couple of rather dirty flower pots and a variety of bits and pieces.  Including the labels that someone had bothered to soak off their bottles, there was one for a ‘Chateau Lafite Rothschild 1961’ and a ‘Chateau Talbot 1985’, there were also labels from a ‘Speyside whiskey, a Bushmills whiskey and a Felinfoel ale.

The school was doing a play at the end of the Christmas term, it was The Wizard of Oz.  Owl found that by standing on tiptoes he could watch the children rehearsing.  He particularly liked the Tin Man and strutted all round his drawer singing  “If I only had a heart........................”

“.... a brain, the nerve.” could be heard from the drawers below.  Owl did not want to hear.

At the end of term everyone rushed about tidying up.  A child shoved a whole lot of bits of paper into Owl’s drawer, they were paper hearts that had been used to decorate the stage.  Owl was delighted.  He chose the biggest and most splendid heart for himself then he distributed the rest around his drawer, by tearing most of them in half there were just enough to go round.

“We wear them like this” he said tucking his heart under his wing.  He was nearly right.

Owl called another meeting. Standing in his corner on a box he addressed the other toys.

“I think we ought to do something to help the children in this school.”

There was a buzz of approval from all over, they all wanted to help the children.

“I think we should do their homework for them.”

Gulp.

“Knitted Policeman, you and I can decide who will do what.  First we had better think what subjects the children do, then we can share those subjects among our friends.”

“They won’t be our friends for long.” Retorted the knitted policeman (who had been made with a whip instead of a truncheon.)

“Don’t worry, they will want to help.” Owl reassured him, adding with his accustomed modesty, “They must recognise a brilliant idea, I know they will want to help me anyway.”

Owl was very excited about his initiative, it had long been his ambition to scratch his name on the toybox just like he had seen children doing on their desks, but this was even better now he might get his name written in gold paint on the list of benefactors near the front door of the school.

“Now the first subject I suppose is what they call Maths, though it is Mathematics on the timetable.  That’s numbers, isn’t it?  Let’s give that to Panda, he’s good at sums.”

“Oh yes, and Pinocchio can help him.  He can do that one where they have to draw lots of straight lines.  I saw him drawing something once, it was most impressive.” Said Knitted Policeman warming to the game.

“Ideal.  Now English.  I think....., I think....., I think it should be Ostrich, if he can stop preening himself for long enough, he prides himself that he is good at words, and we can give him Tiny Teacher Doll as his helper.

“Marvellous” said Knitted Policeman excitedly “Geography should obviously be Camel, he has travelled a lot and even lived abroad. He can have Little “Flying Scotsman” Train to help him.  Then I would suggest for Science ...”  Knitted Policeman thought he had better quieten his enthusiasm a bit, he did not think Owl would like it if he appeared to be trying to take over, but he wanted to help his friend, “...Nurse Doll and Plastic Pig.”

“There is just one more subject on the list, History.  I do not know who would be best there.”

“I am always amazed by how much Ball knows about all sorts of things.”

“You are right,” Owl agreed “he is a mine of information.  As we have given everyone else a helper what do you suggest we do here?”

“There is one of those old cloth books that someone has pushed in at the back of the drawer.  It is a book so it must be full of important and interesting facts.”

“We have done it.”  Owl was jubilant.  “I will just go back and announce my team, you can decide  which of our other friends should be subsidiary helpers.  Squeeze in as many as you can, there are lots of friends who have been trying to be helpful for years but Mock-China Doll did not like them.  If I do something nice for them then they must like me.”

Owl did like calling meetings.  This time though he was disappointed to see that Mock-China Doll was in the drawer, nowadays she normally lived in a special box on top of the chest-of-drawers but today someone had made a mistake and put her back in her old drawer.  Owl did hope she would keep quiet.

“Here is my team” announced Owl blowing a sort of fanfare on the com he kept in his pocket.  “I shall collect the homework at the end of the afternoon then we can concentrate on it while the school is quiet and give it back in the morning.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” asked Mock-China Doll.  “I have always thought that homework was part of the way of educating the children, helping them learn to think for themselves.”  The Stuffed Owl was not going to be drawn into an argument with her, she was bigger than him anyway.

The children were thrilled with Owl’s offer.  Homework, they considered, was a dreadful waste of their precious free-time, they would be much better off glued to the television or playing with their computer games machines.  If the toys wanted to do some homework they, the children, could not be happier.

All started swimmingly, Owl collected the homework books from the children and took them back to the drawer to distribute.

“What on earth is this?” demanded Panda, his bushy eyebrows twitching “I thought they wanted me to do numbers, and look at this.  The book says “What is x” I thought everyone knew what x is, it is the twenty-fourth letter of the alphabet, it is a cross lying on its side, it is the beginning of the word x-ray.”

“You have not read the whole question” said Pinocchio “What is x if x = a x b (a=2 b=3).  The answer must be 6.

“I don’t see how you worked that out” growled Panda reaching for a small cigar.  “What about the next one?  It now appears that x = j+k and that j=8 and k=9.

They managed the first four questions but then they got harder and even Pinocchio was having problems.  “Does it really matter?  Let’s just pick a number, it might be right” he suggested “Anyway, I do not suppose the children get all their sums right the first time.”

The English group found that all they had to do was read four pages of a ‘Learn to Read’ book.

“I like this.” Said Ostrich “but I must admit there are one or two words I have not seen before.”  There turned out to be 19 words he did not know

The first question in that day’s Geography was to name the capital cities of England, Scotland and Wales.

“That is easy” said the well-travelled Camel, who had been bought on a business trip to the Middle East by the father of the children.  He read out the question to th Little “Flying Scotsman” Train.  “England must be London” offered the Train “and Scotland surely is Glasgow.  I don’t think Wales has a capital.”

“It must do.”

“Not necessarily.  It doesn’t really need one.”  The Little Train had to think of some excuse to hide his mortification that he could not name a single town in Wales.  Camel had lots of much more important things on his mind, besides he liked his geography to be more foreign.

Science that day required the children to observe the weather.

“There is not any weather in here” said Plastic Pig astutely.

“Do be serious” chided Nurse Doll “They mean the weather outside. Look out of the window.”

“It’s dark.”

None of the children had been asked to any history homework that day so Ball and Book were not tested.

“That is wonderful” said Owl, when he had checked all the homework and agreed with everything.  “The children will be so pleased when I give them back their books.” 

The children were not at all pleased when they found that their teachers were very cross, all the homework was full of such silly mistakes.  They had mixed feelings when Owl told them that he and his friends had changed their minds, they no longer felt that it would be right to do the children’s homework for them.

End.....

Lavender Taylor

lavenderlc@gmail.com