Her laugh, that’s what did it, she would start talking in a kind of mumble, struggling to make her point, then punctuate the words with laughter making her sentence incomprehensible. The laughter would start light but deepen and as it did, she became more and more desperate to make her point. Unfortunately more often than not she failed, hamstrung by her own happiness. After a moment or so her laughter would be so deep that no air could pass into her body, she would end up silencing herself. But it was sooo contagious, all I ever wanted to do was to hear that silence.
Winter was his time. The leaves had fallen leaving branches to hop along everywhere. The air was clear and the gentle winds picked him up and carried him through the gardens. But more interesting than the cold weather were the people. It was so different from the summer, when crowds of children and merry makers strolled through the parks, with footballs or bikes. Dogs racing around barking or hunting cats, the summer seemed too complicated, everyone was distracted or drunk on the sunshine, but the people in Winter, Robin seemed to see them and they saw him.
Robin would be taking his shortcut through the woods heading to the bird feeder on Westgrove Lane, but before he got there he saw the old man in the garden starring down into the pond. He banked left below the wall, landed and then hopped along and into the bush that covered left hand-side of the pond. A perfect entry point to say hello, but still be able to fly away.
Robin popped his head out and the man stopped, paused and then slowly sat back on his haunches. Robin hopped back into the bush, but the man stayed still and a smile grew across his face, so Robin confidently bounced forward.
‘Any digging in the garden today?’ The Robin asked
‘Sorry mate. It’s a nightmare, there are so many conversations going on at once, I don’t know who to answer.’
‘I didn’t have one conversation’
‘Yes we did, we talked about Muji’
‘You talked about Muji’
Silence… John sat back in his seat and drank his coffee, his mind was a blur with questions and answers, for jobs he had to do that day, for people he had to see and for Mary, he had to spend some time with her. But he knew those things should wait, he needed to speak honestly with Chris, he knew he was unhappy and he wanted to listen to him, but then he had to go and help Rebecca.
‘What you gonna do for Christmas?’
There was a long pause as Chris stared out of the window toward the sea. ‘Duno, go to Turkey?’ He said asking the question to himself.
‘Or stay here?’ John encouraged.
‘Hmmmm…’
Chris picked up his empty glass and walked toward the bar. As he did Elizabeth burst through the door.
‘John, hey mate, how’s it going?’
‘Yeeees, how the fuck are you?’ John shrieked standing from his seat.
Elizabeth slalomed through the tables and jumped up into John’s arms, they held each other smiling.
‘I missed you’
‘Yea me too’
‘We need to…’ Elizabeth burst into a long monologue about the potential theatre ideas she and John had been discussing over the last three months, John listened and in the background Chis slipped away. He attempted a goodbye, but it was too late Elizabeth had all of John’s attention.
Chris walked toward the beach, along the promenade, his mind empty, not angry, not sad, just empty. The path was deserted, old, abandoned and in need of a lick of paint. His eyes jumped from one closed building to the next. Bored, the grey on grey reminded him of his own thoughts. He sighed to himself desperate for some inspiration, but kinda happy there wasn’t anything there. He kept walking until he was far enough away from the hubbub of the cafe and sat down next to kiosk.
‘Watch them closely… and listen it’s a very interesting form of communication’
Jeremy was teaching his favourite class showing footage from the beginning of the digital age, it was a time when the power of internal conflict was not fully understood but was being used very effectively.
‘But it doesn’t make us any money’ Sasha demanded while pointing adamantly at the pool of ideas spread out across the table. ‘We need to focus on the sales in the bar.’
‘But it draws people into the bar in the first place, without the events we don’t attract as many people’
‘We do, the climbing attracts the people and we don’t have to have any investment in that, it’s here already’
Elizabeth laughed, but it was a sarcastic laugh, meant to impose her intellect. ‘We have invested thousands in the climbing’
‘And made money back’ Bernard added smartly.
‘Yea but times are changing.’ A row was simmering.
Jeremy stopped the tape and turned back to the class. ‘Okay can anyone tell me what what’s going on?’
Lucy raised her hand, ‘Yes Lucy’
‘Well the Co-op has made it’s money from the the climbers coming to the village and Elizabeth wants to diversify but Bernard thinks she is just spending the money made from the climbers on her own arts events.’
‘Great that is what’s happening on the face of things, but what is going on internally?’ The class took a collective breath, some bums shuffled in seats the eyes turned away from the professor back to their tablets. ‘Shall I continue?’ The class nodded in unison, Jeremy pressed play.
‘The main reason people keep coming back is not because of the climbing, it’s because of the people.’
‘You mean the climbers’
‘Shut up Bernard, stop being such a pig headed fool. The community is what makes it, you admit yourself that the parties and the bar create a cool atmosphere in the village.’
Bernard was quiet he agreed with her but wasn’t about to admit it. He just wanted more routes.
Elizabeth continued ‘If we want to keep the profits in the bar, we need to keep our audience hungry.’
Jeremy paused the tape again. ‘Okay internal conflict anyone?’
John raised his hand ‘The more they eat in the bar the more money they make?’ The class burst into laughter.
‘Very amusing John, can anyone expand on John’s words of wisdom?’
Joe put up his hand
‘Yes Joe’
‘Elizabeth wants the knowlege of the experiences in the bar to act like the social media frameworks.’
‘Good, quickly explain the social framework’
Joe paused for a moment… ‘You keep your audience by showing ‘the hero avatar’. Posts show your best life, so followers buy into you.’
‘Good so how is that playing out here?’
‘I am not sure if they are doing it digitally yet, but Elizabeth wants the the public to know about parties and art as the hero avatar. Perhaps she believes the diversification is more of a hook than just climbing.’
‘Okay good, that sounds like a hungry audience and what about the internal conflict? Yes Lucy.’
‘There are two, Bernards refusal to believe in Elizabeth’s art community makes her more adamant that it is right, Bernard effectively keeps her hungry. And the people coming to the village see or hear about the parties and climbing and want to be part of it.’
‘Great so what do we call that?’
The class answered in unison, ‘positive internal conflict and negative internal conflict.’
Money was coming into the town, which was good for the villagers, but meant that they had to put up with the habits of the newcomers, some of which were more tolerable than others. But there were some, who lived alone, that were still not accustomed to seeing new faces. They were known in the village as the mountain people for the obvious reason that they lived in small shacks high in the mountains. They farmed the land and kept livestock so the after affects of the blackout had had little effect on them.
The reliance on the blue vein had disabled many people’s ability to think for themselves but these people still had the old skills and their customs hadn’t changed for many years.
As the newcomers grew in numbers so did their interest in the wider countryside.
James stood in the cave that overlooked the valley his eyes fixated on the three men that were moving down the hillside, they slowly traversed down the earthy goat path making sure not to slip on the loose terrain. He had not seen any foreigners in a long time, but he didn’t want them to see him, so he picked up his satchel and made his way back to the hut.
The children sat on the grass and watched their dog mooch around. Sniffing the tree trunks, bushes and the corners of the strange white building that didn’t seem to house anything. Perhaps it was a storeroom in times gone by.
‘Imagine being a dog’
‘Woof’ Rebecca replied
‘Very funny, no imagine, not having to think’
‘I am pretty sure dogs think Sarah’
‘No, like just thinking now… oh smell that, oh that smells better, oh actually I think another dog is coming.’ She mimicked the nose of their dog sniffing the air. ‘Just thinking of what is in the now, what is there.’ She paused as Muji came back from around the white building carrying a stick. ‘See look, he just lives for the now.’
‘And your point being?’ Rebecca asked
‘I just wish I could live for now and not have to worry about the future or the past. I just want to hunt for sticks.’
‘Hmmmm…’ Rebecca mused. ‘That’s what all those self help, meditation apps tell you, live in the moment, but it’s not really that easy. You have lots of stuff going on, exams, Brian, Mum’s birthday, A-level choices, things as simple as what to wear to church next Sunday. Muji just has, where is my next meal coming from?’
‘But that’s my point, what if we could stop worrying about all those things and just work on instinct, you know stop questioning if one way is better or the other. How cool would that be?’
Rebecca smiled, ‘I reckon we would end up with a lot of bad decisions!’
They giggled together… ‘Like splitting up with Brian.’
‘Or buying Mum tickets for Spice Girls’. They laughed louder.
‘I think she would actually quite like the Spice Girls concert.’
‘Yea your right… See perhaps instinct is a good idea.’
The beat flowed, the bodies followed, it was steady, continuous, but fluctuating. The rhythm held the dancers, kept them still for moments and then released them, allowing them to express their own interpretation of the music.
Hands united, eyes focused, pupils widened. Those that played were lost in the beat, those that danced felt the sound waves, felt the music as if it were an object hanging in the air. As they danced they moved the sounds around like a giant Rubik’s Cube, twisting and turning, spinning and falling. They played and danced till the sun had gone and returned. They smiled and laughed and the next day they thought. They sat and watched the horizon, mind stumbling to find last nights clarity.
Life From the Dirt 