by Paul Kelly
“Oh! No . . Not you again . . . . Is there no place a man can get a bit of peace and solitude?” exclaimed Joe as Sammy barked and snapped in the air, pushing his rear end up and his paws splayed out in front of him.
“Down boy . . down there. It’s alright. Down there now,” Joe gave his commands firmly as Bertie screwed up his face and the rain drop fell to his chin. He moved away quickly from where Sammy was positioned and narrowed his eyes.
“Thought you might just like a bit-o-company . . that’s all, dear boy. . . “ said Bertie, staring at Sammy as he spoke. “Will he be alright, Joe? I mean, he won’t bite . . or anything, will he? He looks ferocious this morning. Whatever is the matter with him?”
Joe snapped Sammy’s lead into his collar and walked towards the soaking concrete seat on the esplanade, ignoring the question, but hoping that perhaps Sammy might scare the visitor away . .
“Want to sit down for a chat then?” continued Bertie with his tongue flapping over his lips excitedly and rolling his eyes.
“What? In this weather? You must be joking. How could anyone sit there and in that?” Joe said, pointing towards the seat that had absorbed the rain into its wooden slats, but Bertie simply pushed his sou’ wester up a bit over his head and glanced at the hard and soaking bench.
“Oh! Look . . someone’s written something on it . . there . . see!”
Joe followed Bertie’s eyes. “Jenny loves Frankie,” he read . . “Now isn’t that just lovely. Joe . . Joe, don’t you think that just lovely?” Bertie was highly amused. “And that other piece of scribble over there . . what does that mean?” He turned his head at an angle of 45 degrees to study the inscription and Joe was about to read out what he saw, when he hesitated.
“I don’t think that will interest you Bertie. Let’s move on. It’s too wet to sit down anyway. Come on.”
Sammy barked and Bertie produced a bar of chocolate from his oilskin pocket.
“Beg . . Beg. There’s a good boy . . Beg nicely now for Uncle Bertie” he giggled as he spoke to Sammy, but Joe was annoyed.
“Bertie . . I came out here to have a walk and to be by myself for a little while. Is that too much to ask? Will you please go away and leave me alone,” he snapped as Bertie licked his lips again and tasted the rain water as he blinked his eyes.
“Nice doggie,” he said. “Nice, yes very nice doggie . . . Joe . . Joe, I’m sorry for the way I left you . . last time we spoke . . I was in a hurry, like . . . . but it was rude of me.”
Joe kicked a large piece of green, slimy seaweed as he listened, wondering what was so important in Bertie’s life to make him rush off in such a hurry.
“Doesn’t matter Bertie. Doesn’t matter at all. Your business is your own and I have no right to poke my nose in. I was just curious, that’s all, but it doesn’t really matter. . . Now can I please have some time on my own now . .PLEEZE”
“Oh! But it does, Joe,” Bertie insisted, ignoring Joe’s request for solitude. “It does . . Come on let’s sit down here.”
Bertie pointed to the soaking bench and Joe was about to protest again about the condition of the weather when he stopped sharply in his track and blinked with disbelief. The bench was completely dry. There wasn’t a trace of damp anywhere and even the surrounding ground was as dry as desert dust in a sweltering sunshine. He stepped precariously into the ‘sunny area’ and sat down. Sammy followed and stretched himself fully along the ground below the seat.
“You’ve forgotten the picnic basket, haven’t you?” Joe giggled sarcastically.
“If you wish dear boy . . if you wish,” Bertie was about to close his eyes and stick his pink tongue out again, but Joe intervened.
“Only joking Bertie . . . I’ve just had breakfast and I’ll be home again for lunch very soon. I seem to do nothing but eat when I’m on holiday.”
“Oooooh! Are you having that lovely mince and potato pie again Joe?”
Sammy barked . . opened his eyes and then shut them again.
“I don’t know Bertie. Maggie doesn’t cook here, you know. She needs a holiday too, away from cooking and all that stuff.”
Bertie frowned and looked apologetic.
“Poor dear . . of course she does. Maybe the weather will improve, eh?” said Bertie, glancing upwards at the darkening sky and Joe thought for a moment before he spoke again.
“Bertie . . if you can make this bench and its surrounding area dry, why can’t you make the rain stop all over the place and then we could all go down on the sand?”
Bertie paused and took a deep breath as he went through the lip-sucking process again.
“Well . . well dear boy . . you see . . “
“You’ve got something tucked up your sleeve, haven’t you? You worked it so that I would come out here all by myself in the rain, when you knew the others wouldn’t come . . didn’t you?”
Bertie fidgeted from one foot to the other as he screwed up his face.
“Now don’t get excited dear boy. I needed to talk to you on your own and this was the best way I could think of doing it. I’ll bring the sun out later . . this afternoon, perhaps . . . promise.” Bertie shook his sleeve as he spoke . . .” But there’s nothing up here dear boy . . . Look! Nothing up my sleeve at all . . You can have a look if you like.”
Joe tightened his lips and his nostrils went white and wide.
“That’s very generous of you Bertie, I must say . . or should I call you Lord and Master of the Universe. You planned all this, didn’t you? Oh how could you Bertie? How could you when you knew that Maggie hasn’t had a holiday in years . . . and young Freddie . . well, I don’t know what he must be thinking.”
“Calm down, dear boy . . You mustn’t be so pneumatic. You’ll lose your hair if you carry on like that and you have nice hair . . Did ever anyone tell you that?”
Joe scowled and kicked the leg of the bench.
“Neurotic? Neurotic?” he said . . and Bertie held his hand up to his ear.
“What?”
“Neurotic, not pneumatic . . pneumatic means . . acting with compressed air . . Oh! well, on second thoughts . . that could apply to you, BUT NOT TO ME, understand? and anyway, you’re the one to talk about me being neurotic . . you . .you . .”
Bertie put his hand in the air and closed his eyes. “Calm down dear boy . . .I’m not so deaf today . Not as I usually am, you know and I have already told you everything will be alright and the storm will subside, AFTER we’ve had a little talk and besides, I have already compensated Maggie. Baby John Paul will cut his first tooth tonight and I’ll let Maggie win the Bongo in that large tent over there. That one see . . with all the red and yellow stripes on the top . . . you’ll see,” he said as Joe shook his head in disbelief.
“It’s BINGO, Bertie . . not bongo . . and I suppose, you’ll invite the tooth-fairy to the teething event, will you?” he said and sniggered.
“Tooth fairy? What tooth fairy? I don’t know of anyone by that name.”
“Oh! Forget it Bertie . . You take everything so literal. I’m sorry I spoke . . Just get on with it. What did you want to talk about?”
“Everything in good time now Joe . . and I’ll throw in something else for Maggie too . . so there.”
Joe looked up at the sky.
“Oh yes . . and what’s that then?” he asked.
“I’ll have the little one potty trained by the morning. You’ll see that too.”
Joe wanted to laugh, even if he did appreciate the last offer. It was what Maggie always talked about. A milestone in her motherhood.
“And don’t worry about Freddie either. I’ve left him listening to his favourite pop star sweetheart, with a Mars bar in each pocket. He’ll be O.Ks.”
“And I’ll see that too I suppose,”
“Of course you will dear boy . . with your ve
ry own eyes.”
“You do think of everything, don’t you Bertie,” said Joe and Bertie preened himself, as he removed his sou’ wester under the heat of his newly acquired sunshine and his lank straight white hair fell across his shoulders as he shook his head complacently.
“I’m rather partial to a wee bit of chocolate myself, now and again, you know. Just a wee bitty, you understand, not too much as it’s not good for the blood, you see and I like sweeties too . . I really do.” He licked his lips again. “And biscuits are very nice as well,” he added. “You don’t have any with you, I don’t suppose . .?”
“Is there anything you DON’T like Bertie?”
Joe scrutinized the old man’s face as he made his inquiry, feeling quite sure that the answer would be a very positive ‘NO’ . . but he was surprised.
“I can’t stand the smell of that stuff in your bathroom . . the stuff you stick on the end of a brush and then shove it in your mouth each morning . . UGH!”
“That’s toothpaste,” Joe called out as Bertie screwed up his face in agony and showed his toothless gap, “And I’m not at all surprised, old Chap. You’ve probably used so much in your time that you’ve worn your teeth out . . is that it?”
Bertie fed another piece of chocolate into Sammy’s mouth.
“No need to be funny dear boy. There’ll come a day when you won’t need any paste for your teeth either, whether you like the bally stuff or not,” he said and Sammy licked Bertie’s hand and begged for more chocolate, using his front, left paw.
“What was it you wanted to talk to me about anyway Bertie . . after having caused this unearthly storm to get me here?”
Bertie undid the neck of his yellow oilskin coat.
“Well, I told you that when anyone is given something special and above the ordinary, it is a wonderful thing . . but nobody gets anything for nothing . . you do understand, don’t you Joe?”
“Yes, of course I understand that.”
Bertie scratched his head under the oilskin. He looked pensive.
“Many, many years ago Joe . . when I got what I wanted . . when I got MY gift . . I made a mistake.”
It was the first time Joe had ever heard Bertie admit to being anything but perfect and he looked so sad. Bertie was an irritating old man, but he loved him nevertheless and he hated to see him upset in any way.
“What do you mean . . . a mistake, Bertie? Everyone makes a mistake at some time or other in their lives . . don’t they?” he said and Bertie raised his sad eyes.
“I should never have asked for what I did,” he said slowly as Joe crossed his legs and narrowed his eyes.
“I don’t know what you mean Bertie,” he said and hesitated . . .”You needn’t tell me about it if you’d rather not,” he insisted, but the old man raised his hand as if to dismiss Joe’s proposal
“I want to tell you Joe . . after all, we are friends . . and friends forever an’ ever an’ ever, aren’t we?”
Joe smiled as he looked tenderly at the old man.
“Yes, of course we are . . and I’m here to listen, if you want to tell me. But only if you really want to . . you understand?”
Bertie grinned and nodded.
“Yes, I really, really want to tell you Joe. I really, really do,” he said, but he shivered a little where he stood. “Well,” he went on, “When you asked me if you could become invisible Joe . . you did add, if you remember, that you didn’t want to be invisible all the time. . . and that was very wise. You’ve got wisdom Joe and I admire that more than anything else I can think of.” Joe waited as Bertie pulled his oilskin coat over his head and explained his action.
“I have to do it that way,” he said, “ There are no buttings on this thing and I can only get into it by putting it over my head.”
Joe giggled and hunched his shoulders.
“Buttons, Bertie,” he corrected and the old man lowered his eyes and smiled.
“Yes, yes, I should have known that Joe . . Buttons are always buttons, aren’t they,” he admitted
“Only when they’re not buttings,” added Joe and laughed, “But where on earth did you get it, Bertie?” he asked and Bertie sighed wearily.
“I picked it up at that old beach hut over there. I think it belongs to the chap who puts the deck chairs out. I’ll return it to him as soon as I clear this storm off.”
“Very decent of you dear boy,” Joe mimicked and Bertie grinned.
“I’ll give him a little something for the use of it, Joe . . You know I will.”
“A bar of chocolate, perhaps?” hinted Joe.
“Maybe TWO bars, more like . . I think,” said Bertie as he folded the oilskin carefully and spread it across his knees, with his tongue moving across his lips as he worked. “But as I was saying Joe . . I admire wisdom and if I had my time over again, that’s what I would have asked for . . and not the stupid request I made. When I was asked what I wanted, I wasn’t at all wise . . not in the least wee bitty. I was greedy and I chose wrongly.”
Joe’s eyes softened with a look of tenderness as his friend spoke.
“What do you mean Bertie. I can’t imagine you ever being wrong. . . and certainly not greedy . . Not you, old friend . . Not you.”
“Oh! I was . . I was, I do assure you. Very, very wrong and very, very greedy . . You see Joe, I wasn’t content to ask for just one wish . . or even two or three . . . I wanted everything . . . and look at me now . . . I’m left with nothing.”
“I wouldn’t say that Bertie. You’ve got me . . and the family.”
Bertie smiled and wet his lips again with his pink tongue.
“You Joe . . well, yes . . . to some extent . . . the family . . .NO . . . at least, not yet. You see, when I was asked what I wanted, I was stupid. I didn’t think wisely enough. I asked for eternal life Joe. I never ever wanted to die . . .”
Joe stared across the midst in the horizon from his few yards of protected sunshine in his enchanted esplanade bench and it was a few moments before the stark reality of his friend’s statement hit him . . and it was then that he realized the enormity of the request that Bertie had made.
“Bertie . . that’s all very well when you’re young . . . and full of health. Death seems so far away and nobody wants to die. But what happens when you’re . . .I mean, what happens when you get older? You can’t live forever.”
The old man lowered his head and Joe could see that he was blushing as he asked his next question.
“Bertie . . . does this mean that you can’t . . . . .”
Bertie nodded and hid his head in his hands as Sammy came towards him and licked his wellington boots. Joe was stunned. He didn’t know what to say. There was nothing he could say under the circumstances. . . . well nothing appropriate, but he swallowed hard and touched Bertie’s hand.
“Does this mean that you can’t . . you can’t die, Bertie?” he asked and his face was sad. “I don’t know what to say, old friend, but if there’s anything I can do to help . .”
Bertie blinked and a warm tear fell into his gnarled old hand.
“There is something Joe . . . But you can’t do it for me dear boy . . I don’t think anybody can . . and to be honest with you Joe boy . . I’m getting to be afraid.”
“What is it Bertie? If there is a way . . tell me.”
Bertie shook his old head slowly and gave a toothless smile.
“If a human could see me, when I’m invisible . . . . that’s the only way, dear boy and you can see how impossible that is, can’t you? You see I have to wait for that to happen. I cannot ask nor instigate that phenomena and as you know better than anyone else, even you can’t see me when I’m invisible, Joe . . .”
Joe scratched his head in confusion and Sammy whimpered near him.
“I know . . I know Bertie. . . I’ve got the an
swer. Sammy could do it surely. He has barked when we have been invisible to him before this, hasn’t he? He has the instinct to know when you’re near, even when you’re invisible . . That’s it . . . That’s it Bertie,” he called out, but Bertie shook his head sadly.
“I said a human has to see me when I’m invisible, Joe . . . Sammy isn’t a human. Most any dog could sense my presence anyway. Some even get angry and bark a lot. I’ve even had a few who’ve done a wee-wee on my foot, but it must be a human . . .”
Joe get very irritated when he heard what Bertie had said and he shifted uneasily where he sat.
“Isn’t there some way that I could do it Bertie? ANYWAY?” he pleaded, but Bertie shook his weary head again.
“I thought when you first asked me if you could become invisible yourself, that you might be the one who could do it for me and give me my freedom Joe, but if you remember the first time you became invisible in that mirror outside the Cafe where we first had tea together, I was visible then, but not you . . . and I knew the spell was working for you in your request, but not for me. You see Joe . . I can’t do anything unless I wish it to happen . . and then . . . only for others. I can make you invisible and work all sorts of wonders for you . . . but you can’t do anything like that for me. It has been the same with all the others. I can affect their lives but they can’t touch mine.”
Joe sat upright on the hard bench.
“Others? . . . Others? . . . .What others? Were there others before me Bertie?”
“Oh! Why yes, dear boy . . . I’ve forgotten how many now but only one at a time, you understand and there was a long period of time between each. I had many, many lonely years when I had nobody as a friend. That is why I asked you if we could be friends forever an’ ever an’ ever, don’t you see? I never thought to make that request of any of the others and I’ve never put a thumb-print on them either . . so there.”