Jam Sandwiches

by Greg Fowler

  Eddy did want to make Mrs Eldson happy…and sometimes, not all the time mind you, he could.

  Mrs Stanton had called in again. Just a routine visit.

  She’d tested him out again and this time the questions were harder. Things like multiplication and division; fractions and foreign places; long words and handwriting.

  She ended up leaving with a glowing report for Eddy and about a dozen photos of ‘the most amazing tree I have ever seen’.

  At one point, straight after Eddy had aced everything she could throw at him, she’d turned to Grandma Daisy and told her that she’d missed her true calling. Based on Eddy’s remarkable progress, she was obviously a natural born teacher.

  Grandma Daisy had smiled at that…and she didn’t smile at much of anything. Her eyes had said something else though, they’d said ‘keep your damned mouth shut Eddy Sullivan’.

  And Eddy, who knew he was getting smarter all the time, did exactly that.

  28. NOT GOOD

  ‘Reagan, is everything o…okay?’

  ‘What do ya mean?’

  It was one of those cold winter days when the sky told a lie. It was an unblemished blue and yet it felt as though the sun had given up on earth completely.

  Reagan was leaning against her window, the steam of condensation puffing out of her mouth and the mug of hot chocolate in her hand. Eddy was doing essentially the same thing in his window, except his mug of hot chocolate was swapped for a glass of cold water.

  ‘Well, there’s b…been noises in your house.’

  Reagan didn’t respond except to stare defensively back at him and for a second Eddy thought she was going to start chewing the inside of her cheek the same way Grandma Daisy did. He was getting ready to leave it there when Reagan piped up.

  ‘Dad’s gone all funny.’

  ‘N..not f..funny ha ha?’

  ‘Nope.’

  More silence, another sip of hot chocolate, another slurp of cold water.

  ‘He, um,’ Reagan cleared her throat, more as a delaying tactic than for any real need. ‘Mum says he drinks too much.’

  ‘D…does he?’

  Reagan nodded her head. ‘He gets angry when he drinks. At least he does now anyway.’

  ‘Does he h…urt you?’

  ‘No…but he scares me. He scares Mum too.’

  ‘Oh.’ Eddy had definitely known something was wrong. It wasn’t just the ‘noises’ he heard bellowing through their house in the evenings these days, it also had something to do with the colours he saw and felt when he saw Mr Crowe. Before he’d been green too. Not exactly the same green as Reagan…a deeper shade like a mid summer’s leaf. Now though, his green was speckled. It had purples and reds through it and while Eddy didn’t have the handbook on such things, he understood that it didn’t bode well.

  ‘Mum says if he doesn’t stop it she’ll leave and she’ll take me too.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘I don’t think she will though.’ Eddy had never seen Reagan so sombre and it worried him.

  ‘J…just be careful okay?’

  ‘Yep. Daddy wouldn’t ever hurt me though. He’s got angry before but he’s never hurt me.’ Reagan stared Eddy straight in the eye and he wasn’t quite sure whether she did it to hammer home her point or whether she desperately needed him to agree with her.

  ‘Th…that’s good.’

  But it wasn’t. It wasn’t good at all.

  29. KNOWING THE EMPEROR

  Eddy was reading one of his old library books when he felt the first twinges in the air. He knew this particular vibrational flutter quite well by now. It meant Bert/Nathan was heading this way. And he was late for school too.

  Usually that was the cue to back away from the window and let discretion be the better part of valour. Bert/Nathan had never forgotten his humiliation at the hands of Reagan, and Eddy had no doubts that revenge simmered long and hot in that boy’s head. Today though, Eddy took his time.

  Yes, it was true the vibration was familiar but at the same time it was different. The only way Eddy could picture it was akin to adding spice to food. Chicken was still chicken but if you added spice to it, it was going to taste different. So Eddy just sat at the front window and tried to reach for whatever had tweaked Bert’s/Nathan’s energy.

  See the purple/blue Eddy. That’s stress. That’s some serious stress.

  Yes indeed, there was a bruised colour to Nathan’s energy and it followed him down the street like a shadow. Eddy could see it now that he knew what he was looking for.

  But why?

  Why was Nathan so stressed?

  The Battle of Borodino was fought on September 7, 1812.

  What!?

  The Battle of Borodino was fought on September 7, 1812.

  I heard you the first time but what does that mean?

  Tell him.

  Eddy didn’t know anything about the Battle of Borodino but he did know he wasn’t at all keen on putting himself out in front of Nathan like that. He was in the guy’s bad books anyway without having to churn things up even more by yelling nonsensical comments out the window.

  I’ll never let you fall remember.

  I know, I know but….

  It was now or never. Nathan was right under the window and in a handful of seconds he’d be a stride too far.

  Trying to put all sense of self preservation to the back of his mind, Eddy jammed the window latch open and called out.

  ‘Nathan.’

  ‘What do you want Piss Pants?’ The anticipated abuse was there alright but for once it wasn’t backed up with any venom. In fact, Nathan didn’t look too enthused about Eddy’s bold move at all.

  ‘Um….’

  The Battle of Borodino was fought on September 7, 1812.

  ‘Y…yeah, that’s right. The B…battle of Borodino was fought in S…september seven, eighteen, t…twelve. One, eight, one, two.’ And that was it, what else could Eddy say after that?

  Nathan stared at Eddy as if he’d just clucked like a chicken or something and Eddy couldn’t really blame him. He felt like a right idiot sitting up there at the window ledge after yelling that down the street.

  ‘You’re a fucking freak kid.’ And with those fine words of farewell, Nathan turned his back on Eddy and continued his down hearted, shoulder slooped trek towards school.

  30. THROWING STONES AND WITCHCRAFT

  By the time Grandma Daisy made it upstairs with dinner these days, it was already dark.

  Eddy and Reagan had a routine. When Eddy ‘knew’ Grandma Daisy was about to head on up he’d simply say ‘playtime’s up’ and Reagan would slip away from her window until the mean old lady that looked after Eddy had gone again. As she explained to Eddy, it wasn’t that she didn’t mind talking to Grandma Daisy, but if she didn’t have to, then it was easier not to. ‘She says one thing with her mouth and another thing with her eyes’ is the way Reagan put it and Eddy wasn’t in a position to disagree.

  So when his mother’s mother backed herself into his bedroom, dinner tray in hand, Eddy was reading a book about airplanes on his bed and Reagan was listening to music on hers.

  As was tradition, she placed the tray down on the desk and turned to survey the room. What it really was, Eddy had come to understand, was a chance for her to complain about something. Anything she could find, absolutely anything even slightly as it shouldn’t be in her estimation, was up for a one way discussion. And, these days, there was always one subject at the very top of her hit list. Mr Tree.

  If Eddy was some other kid, he might just have rebuked her by saying ‘if you don’t like it, do something about it then’ but then again Eddy wasn’t that dumb. Not when it came to Grandma Daisy anyway. She didn’t understand the meaning of a bluff.

  Yep, there it was, that big sigh, like she was sucking in air to blow it back out as her dinner time moan. But that’s as far as she got.

  Clack!

  The sound rocketed through the bedroom, amplified by the silence created by Grandma Dais
y’s arrival. Both she and Eddy flinched like they’d been shot.

  It was the front window. Something had hit the front window.

  It wasn’t broken but it must’ve been a close thing. Grandma Daisy stepped over to it to see what in the Devil’s name was going on. Eddy stayed put. Better to do what you were told before you were told to do it. He watched with bated expectation as she leaned against the window itself, then obviously seeing something that annoyed her, she undid the latch.

  ‘Hey!’ she shouted down to the street. ‘Just what do you think you’re doing?’

  ‘Sorry,’ spoke a diminutive voice from somewhere out there. Eddy may not have recognised that voice but he did recognise the vibration. It was Nathan. ‘Is the boy there? I need to talk to the boy.’

  Grandma shot Eddy the death look and then returned her attention out the window.

  ‘No, he’s not and if you throw things at this house one more time young lad I’ll call the police.’ She gave the window the full once over. ‘And if this window’s damaged, you’ll be paying for it.’

  There was a mumble, mumble from out on the street and then Nathan was gone.

  ‘What does he want with you?’ interrogated Grandma Daisy as she closed the window.

  ‘I d…don’t know.’

  ‘I tell you what Eddy Sullivan, I’m sick of this.’

  Eddy put the book down and reined in his arms and legs. This wasn’t going to be good.

  ‘I don’t know what’s got into you recently. Sometimes I don’t think you really appreciate what I do for you. I didn’t have to take you in you know. I could have left you there in that horrid hospital just like your trollop of a mother did. But no, I had to have a conscience didn’t I. I had to put my whole life on hold for the handicapped kid.’

  ‘And look what I get in return.’ Grandma Daisy tossed her hand in the direction of the front window. ‘People throwing stones at us. What’s it going to be next Eddy? Bricks? Molotov cocktails? Are they going to barge in here and beat an old lady up?’

  ‘And don’t look at me like you don’t know what’s going on. I’m not an idiot.’ Eddy didn’t know for the life of him what expression he was wearing to make her even angrier and even if he did, he didn’t know how to change it. Right now, scared was all he had.

  ‘You…this damned tree, how all of a sudden you started getting smarter…it’s not right Eddy. And I know about Mrs Elsdon thank you very much. I see her on the lawn. And don’t even get me started about that girl next door.’ Eddy just knew she’d spoken that as loud as she did on purpose. ‘It’s nothing but witchcraft as far as I can see and there’s no way I’ll have any more of that devilishness in my household. I have damned well…had…enough!’

  Grandma Daisy tore across the room, her whole body triggered with rage. For a moment Eddy thought she was coming for him and he brought his hands up over his face to protect himself. But when her shadow crossed him and still the blows didn’t connect he peeked out and, compared to what greeted him, he dearly wished he had been the target of her wrath. Boiling in a fit of fury like he’d never witnessed before, Grandma Daisy was tearing at his precious Mr Tree. Her arms were a flurry of manic activity as she stripped the beautiful leaves from their beds and snapped any branch that got in her way. Floral flesh and blood flew everywhere and her crazed effort meant that as she wrenched each new handful away, she grunted and groaned like a madwoman.

  ‘No…G…Grandma Daisy. Pleeeeease!’ Hardly thinking twice, Eddy pounced up and tried to grab at one of her flying arms but she was so engrossed in her spasms of destruction that he had no affect on her whatsoever. She was a bull on the loose.

  ‘Get away from me you evil, evil boy.’ Flinging him off as though he were half the size, she continued her demolition of his beloved friend and the room was quickly becoming littered with the casualties.

  Eddy couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It hurt to watch. Not just his eyes…his entire body. He was viewing the execution of the very thing that had turned his life around and it ached…it ached so bad.

  Reduced to tears in the corner of the room, he was a haunted witness. He didn’t want to see this but at the same time he couldn’t turn away. And so it was, right up until Grandma Daisy’s frenetic energy waned and her anger diluted. Eventually she gave up altogether and that was probably just a reflection of the fact she’d ravaged the tree all the way down to the branches she couldn’t snap.

  When she was done, she turned and looked at him, her chest heaving up and down with the physical effort.

  ‘This tree is has nothing to do with your Grandfather…do you understand me?’

  Eddy remained silent.

  ‘DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!’

  Eddy nodded his head and looked away from her, a second wave of tears beginning to sting his eyes.

  He didn’t see her leave…he didn’t need to.

  31. ARMS AND LIMBS

  Grandma Daisy hadn’t been more than a few seconds down-stairs when Eddy was shocked to feel an arm reach around his shoulders.

  ‘Oh gees Eddy,’ said Reagan in disbelief. ‘Are you alright?’

  Eddy nodded, not able to say a word, and then changed his mind by shaking his head. Reagan pulled him in close and cuddled him to her chest, a place, she knew, where Eddy could finish crying in peace.

  ‘It’s okay…it’s okay.’ She repeated over and over again as she rocked him gently and felt the wetness begin to soak into her jersey. ‘It’s gonna be okay.’

  Even tears run out in the end and when they did Reagan was still there, keeping him warm on a cold, cold night. Somewhere in his grief she’d helped him across to his bed and had lain down next to him, spooning him and gently stroking his hair.

  Without turning around to face her (he didn’t want her to see him like this), Eddy collected his thoughts.

  ‘Sh…she killed Mr Tree.’

  ‘I’m so sorry Eddy.’

  ‘She b…broke him all up.’

  ‘I know, I’m sorry.’ Reagan looked up and saw the bare and mutilated remains of Eddy’s prized Mr Tree. His Grandma Daisy had sure gone to town.

  Eddy sat up and stared at the carnage throughout his bedroom. It was horrid. There was hardly a space left that didn’t scream with the scars of Grandma Daisy’s mayhem. Snapped limbs were scattered everywhere like a battle field, and there were even twigs and leaves nestled into Eddy’s untouched dinner on the desk.

  It was a scene of utter desolation.

  ‘Can I help you clean up?’

  Eddy nodded…nothing else…just nodded.

  Reagan slipped out from behind him and began collecting the biggest pieces of wreckage into a pile beneath the side window. For a little while Eddy just watched on in stunned silence but in the end he got up too and followed suit, being ever so gentle as he handled the remains of his dear, dear friend. Neither of them said a single word the whole time.

  Soon enough the jumble of leaves, twigs and branches reached as high as the window ledge.

  ‘I think that’s about as far as we can go without a vacuum cleaner Eddy,’ said Reagan as she surveyed the sad state of a bedroom.

  ‘Thanks R…reagan.’ Eddy’s eyes were dry to the point of stinging and it hurt to keep them open. ‘Y…you’d better head b..back now or your Mum will worry.’

  ‘Okay. Will you sleep alright?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Okay.’ Reagan gave Eddy a furtive glance and then hitched one leg over the pile that was once the amazing Mr Tree before changing her mind. Lifting her leg back in, she stepped over to Eddy and engulfed him in one more, great, big hug.

  ‘You’re a g…good friend to me R…reagan.’

  ‘I’m sthpethal,’ she smiled back…and believe it or not, Eddy did too.

  Eddy wandered over to the window to make sure Reagan got back into her room safely…which of course she did.

  ‘I’m just here, remember,’ she whispered back across the space between them.

  Eddy gave her the thumbs
up in return.

  32. FROM WITHIN TO WITHOUT

  Eddy didn’t sleep at all that night, which was a surprise really. The entire episode with Grandma Daisy’s unfettered rage had emotionally and physically exhausted him. Under the circumstances he would have thought that a full night’s sleep would have been a blessing. He could take the chance of the odd bad dream but, he figured, by staying awake all he would do was stew on an already terrible situation.

  In the end however, the sleep never came. It never even knocked on the door.

  And you know what…by dawn he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

  The first thing Eddy did after Reagan had gone was to turn off his light. The state of Mr Tree was an assault enough on his senses without having it sprawled everywhere he looked. So, leaving the faint echo of light from Reagan’s bedroom and the sharp strip of light from under his bedroom door as his only reminder of the real world, Eddy collapsed on his bed and wished his entire existence away.

  As the minutes passed in his cold and especially bare bedroom, Eddy’s mind wandered a labyrinth. How lucky his estranged mother really was. That she could just get up and walk away like that. That she could just leave him like a pile of leaves on somebody else’s doorstep. In a way he envied her. In a way he wished he could be as cold as a winter’s starlit night. The sort people admire from afar but can never get near to.

  And as his mind trekked the twists and turns of life’s if’s, what’s and maybe’s he did something so unconscious, so routine that at first he hadn’t even realised he’d done it. He reached over and up with his right hand and placed it on the tortured bough of Mr Tree. Down here, by the bed and not too far from the side window, Mr Tree’s branch was plump and strong, way too strong even for Grandma Daisy’s holocaust of fury. It had still been stripped bare of its beautiful suit of leaves but it remained solid at its core.