Too Little, Too Late? 50

Printer-friendly version

CHAPTER 50
John looked a little nervous at that, and I realised that he too had been shocked by the boy’s directness. He took a couple of deep breaths, and a glance at me, before replying.

“Jill is a friend and I will not hurt…her if I can, James”

James just nodded and went back to trying to separate the layers of his lasagne so that he could eat the parts separately, and John pulled over a chair.

“You seem to have formed quite a regular group. I am going to assume…no, I am going to ask, is this a real thing? No, I know it is real, I mean, I am observing it, but…please explain. This is no recreational activity, is it?”

Karen answered before I could. “No, John, no recreation, no hobby. My son said it exactly as it is. All the same person, one who needs to emerge now. Chrysalis, butterfly, yes?”

I caught just the slightest flicker of a smile from Terry at the phrase she used for James, and I saw again how wrong I had been to doubt him. There was love there, deep and abiding, and they were clearly right for each other, despite his history. Chalk another one down to the stupidity and pig-headedness of Rob. Perhaps Jill would be a better person, I thought, before reminding myself that I was one, not two, and always had been. Chrysalis, butterfly, or rather some large and ugly moth, but Karen had caught the process exactly. I looked up at our odd…friend.

“John, this is me. This is the real me. This is who I have always been and who I should have been born if the world ran with any justice or mercy, aye?”

He looked at me steadily, and I realised that he was doing his observation thing, checking me for salient points, field marks as birdwatchers call them. Did I pass? Was I fowl or its homophone? It was like watching some sort of machine produce an object: I could see the gears turning, see something emerging, but not what it was.

“Jill, then. Jill. This is not something I am familiar with; I prefer a little more order in my life”

That was surely an understatement, and Rachel snorted in amusement. John wasn’t finished, though.

“Jill, I know I am rather difficult at times, but I will say one thing, so please let me finish. I have said that I prefer order, and that has always been my way. As you know, I have been speaking to somebody more professional than yourselves, and she is leading me into a better understanding of the reasons for that. I am not right in my own head is the answer, but that does not mean that I am wrong there, just differently aligned. It has taken me a very long time to see that, and it has resulted in some historical dislocation…I mean, in the past, I have not managed to deal with other people in a fully productive way”

Rachel was covering her mouth at that point, and I wondered if she was actually enjoying his discomfort. So much water under the bridge. John looked at her, and sighed, then flicked his eyes towards James, and Terry caught the glance.

“How much tea have you had, son?”

“I have drunk six cups, Dad”

“Do you want to go to the toilet before we carry on, then?”

As the boy left, Terry turned to John. “You want to say something about my son, don’t you? But you have the manners to do it while he’s out of the way, so you are capable of learning”

That struck me. In a way, his comment was a direct insult to John, and it was clear the older man himself realised it, but his only physical reaction was a nod.

“Yes, that is what I am. Your son is autistic, clearly, but you help and support him, you care for him and you have more patience than I have ever known, both of you, Jill, the other girls too”

‘Other girls’. Oh my. He spoke on.

“James is autistic, I am autistic. Or, rather, I am on the same scale of illness, disorder, unconventional manner of thinking, call it what you will. The more I talk to Sally, the more I see what I do to others. She leads me through role plays, and then we analyse what it is I do wrong. She says…she has told me that if I can learn to recognise what she has called invisible differences in flying rats, I am capable of learning alternative means of dealing with people”

I gave him my best smile. “That sounds good, John”

“Yes, but it is learned and conscious behaviour, rather than instinct and empathy. I know now not only that I am different, but that I always will be. That is not a good thing”

Karen put her hand on his forearm. “No, John, it isn’t. What it is, in truth, is a better thing than it was. Look at Jill, there. Jill, what’s it like being a man?”

Bingo. “I have no idea. I have never been one”

“So how did you learn to behave like one?”

“Learned and conscious, Kaz. That and necessity”

She turned back to John. “See what I mean, John? She had to learn how to pretend, play a part all her life, and none of that came by instinct. Look around her, John. How much love is there here? Love for her? Love that came to her even as she played that untrue role?”

He had dropped his eyes at that, but looked up again. “You think, if I practise, I could do better?”

Rachel was laughing aloud now. “John, MATE, think of how you were in the Tower just now, yeah? Not only did you make James’ day, but you saw clearly enough to realise when he was getting out of his depth. The original you, I am sure, would have kept trying to show him off as your new toy, but no, you saw the thing he does with his hands, and you took away his stress. That was human, John, that was loving, yes?”

He started at that word, but she had him. “Look, just think, about this girl here. Everything she has ever had to do in public has been an act, up till now. She cares for others, and many people think that is a girl thing, yeah, but it isn’t, it’s a people thing, a human thing”

Terry had reached out to take his wife’s hand as she continued her little lecture. “Look at James, and the way he reacted when he saw you, the love that he brought out even though his ways of expressing it are lost. Why should you be different? Why should you be the only one to lack that humanity? You don’t, you know, you show it all the time. We just need to help it come out. Sod it, I want cake. No, John, no”

He had risen immediately, and I guessed it was to go and buy the cake she had asked for.

“That is not how it works, my friend. We say what we would like, and then we ask about, and then we decide. Slow down, think, and be a friend among friends, yeah?”

My lovely woman, the one my own blindness had let walk away from me; I could see why Terry loved her, but I had always seen that. What I saw now was why I loved her myself, and I felt my eyes go a little moist as I realised how amazing my luck had been, letting one wonderful woman walk out of my arms only for me to fall straight into the arms of another. Terry saw, and gave me a wink, one that said something like ‘Ah, that’s my girl!’

John held his silence for a moment. “Well, we are all friends here, then. Shall I get a round of teas in while someone else sorts some cake out? Ah, here is James again. Do you want tea and cake, my boy?”

“Are you a friend now John?”

The older man just smiled. “Yes, I believe I am, now”

“Then I shall have another cake, please, and that will be two cakes for me and nine cups of tea today”

“Shall we see how many types of cake there are?”

“This morning there were seven, and I would like chocolate fudge cake please Mum”

Karen jerked at that. “Where did that come from, James?”

“People are not just names. They are like the birds, they each do things and you are Karen and you do Mumming. I see Jill and she girls. Can I have coke and not tea please?”

And so we had teas, and cakes, and as John had finished with his voluntary duties we walked out into the chill, a group of friends on a cold day with lives to build and share.

up
118 users have voted.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos! Click the "Thumbs Up!" button above to leave a Kudos

Comments

...

Hitting way close there ...

Empathy

What an emphatic way to relate issues and to build new relationships out of the ruins of old relationships!

A lovely Episode

This was a wonderful episode of your story.

From the writing, via the characters, the love shone through to the reader

Well done

From a very satisfied reader

Love to all

Anne G.

Each succeeding episode...

Andrea Lena's picture

...in light of what we know about ourselves...seems to belie the title. For Jill it seems to be just enough just in time instead. Crysalis; par of the transformation involves a struggle for the emerging butterfly so that the wings expand and they can fly; no struggle...no flight. Jill's struggle is going to make for one wonderful butterfly! Thank you, Steph, once again, for showing us it's all about humanity.


Dio vi benedica tutti
Con grande amore e di affetto
Andrea Lena

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

Thank you

I am trying to write something that gets inside some heads, and the process is difficult. Something like my Christmas story just flows, because I know all the people involved, and even with a change of PoV they have a life that springs easily from my 'pen'. These people are much harder to get inside. Briar passed a comment (a nice one) on my first submission here, that it was not an uncommon sort of story, and I replied that there are only supposed to be a certain finite number of possible stories. That is why I do my best to write characters rather than events. The difficulty here is obvious; I have at least two Odd people, and keeping their oddness consistent is hard work.

Metamorphosis

These new relationships remind me of geological metamorphosis but on a much faster timescale. The chemistry changes but the physical structures and frameworks of the rock in-sutu remains the same. Only the tectonic macroscopic physical changes can be detected on such a different timescale. That would relate to society's tectonic timescale vis-a-vis the human relationship clock.

The chemistry of friendship changes with circumstance and necessity but the shape and form of human-kind changes very slowly whilst the mass of humanity reflects those changes and moves but slower still, (tectonically)and hopefully in a creative, supportive and remedial direction.

The basic chemistry is that which is fundamental.

Very good chapter Steph it explores friendship and its constructive, remedial powers so well.

XZXX

Bev.

Growing Old Disgracefully

bev_1.jpg

"What's it like to be a man?"

'Look at Jill, there. Jill, what’s it like being a man?”

Bingo. “I have no idea. I have never been one”

“So how did you learn to behave like one?”

“Learned and conscious, Kaz. That and necessity”'

Well said. Thank you.

Dorothycolleen, member of Bailey's Angels

DogSig.png

as ever

lovely stuff with people being real and if perhaps just a pinch rose tinted that's no bad thing, a bit of love never hurt.

But hey, it's still early on New Years day and my head isn't up to getting around a phrase like ..' invisible differences in flying rats..' But might I say you do 'odd' well.

Do what you do, 'tis always a pleasure. Welcome to '12 in an hour or so.

k

Flying rats and rose tinting

I have written enough nastiness for a little while, even though I am writing more at the moment. Sally is always a direct shrink, and she speaks as she finds. "Flying rats" is one London term for pigeons, as opposed to 'flying vermin', which is a Customs term for skiers.

Thanks Steph,

ALISON

As always,you show us humanity and reality,not a fairy tale. In this case the
drama associated with the transition of an older person,who has spent their
life till now trying to be a man who is,in reality,a woman.

ALISON

If You Don't Know

joannebarbarella's picture

You have to learn, and sometimes there is no reference point. We didn't find out that our son was colour-blind until he was ten, because he didn't know that everyone saw the world differently from him.

John and James and Jill all have variations on that theme. Most of us know about faking it, but John never even knew that he had to.

Brilliantly described...as usual,

Joanne