Jam Sandwiches

by Greg Fowler

  ‘Girls and boys are made very different Eddy,’ she said. ‘Some would say too different and others would say not different enough. There’s no rules on that front, except to say they’re different. The way I see it though is it’s how we were made to see the world. Boys, I think, tend to see the world as ‘today’. Girls, on the other hand, tend to see it as both ‘yesterday’ and ‘tomorrow’.’ Mrs Elsdon grimaced, not happy with her explanation thus far. ‘What I mean by that is….you know your history don’t you Eddy?’

  ‘Yep. Some at least.’

  ‘Back, thousands of years ago, the men were the hunters and the women were the gatherers. When it came to hunting animals it’s all about what happens on the day that counts. One day there’d be a mammoth wandering by and the next there wouldn’t. You had to take things day by day. Us women though, we had to reckon with where the fruit and berries would be tomorrow and the days after that. That meant knowing where they’d been yesterday and the yesterdays before that and understanding how and when they grew for the future.’

  Eddy wasn’t getting this and it must have shown.

  ‘Put it this way. When a girl looks at a boy and wonders whether he’s someone she could like, she’s thinking about yesterday and tomorrow. She may not know that, but she is. The yesterday is about her past experience with boys, and men. More often than not Eddy, one of those men is their fathers. They see ‘him’ as the fruit they know. So, for good or bad, they look to go back to that place, even if it can be sour sometimes.’

  ‘The tomorrow is all about her security. The need to know that even if the rains don’t come there’ll be a place she can go to and be comforted. When it comes to boys, we’re talking about somebody who can give her two sorts of things really. Those things you can see, feel and touch, like financial security, a house over her head, protection for herself and her children. And the other sort… that’s the important stuff. Things like love. A good family. I guess when you look back at it, it’s about wants and needs.’

  ‘What makes it so complicated I think…for boys at least, is understanding what the girl is looking for most; yesterday or tomorrow.’

  ‘Jeepers,’ rounded off Mrs Elsdon, ‘I’m not the expert Eddy and I know that sounds all over the place but it’s my best shot.’

  ‘Thanks Mrs Elsdon,’ responded Eddy honestly. ‘I’m not sure I get it just yet b..but you’ve given me something to think about.’

  ‘Well don’t think too hard young man because you’ve got a lot of other stuff to fit in there yet.’ Mrs Elsdon tapped her head and then tapped her walking stick. ‘Sorry, I’ll have to make it a quick one today, looks like we’ve got rain on the way.’

  ‘Okay Mrs Elsdon. B…be careful.’

  ‘I will. See you later.’

  Eddy watched the old lady depart. Her left hip was getting worse by the day but she was never going to admit it. He didn’t like seeing her struggle like this but he would miss her daily visits an awful lot.

  ‘Yesterdays’ and ‘Tomorrows’, she’d certainly given him some food for thought.

  61. THE WRONG SORT OF PRESENT

  ‘Hey Eddy.’

  ‘Yep?’

  ‘I’ve got something for ya.’

  Eddy stepped over to the side window, intrigued at this new development. Reagan hadn’t been bluffing when it had come to the study. She was still playing the facade of the good student for her mother’s sake but in reality she was either talking to Ryan on the new cell phone he’d bought her or she was listening to music. The books, while laid out like they were getting used, were about as lonely as Eddy on a Friday and Saturday night.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Jam Sandwiches?’

  ‘And then you’ll show me?’

  ‘Deal.’ Reagan trotted out of her room and Eddy grabbed his spot out on Mr Tree. Summer was really moving on now. The longest day had been and gone and it was a little sad to know that each new day was that bit shorter. It was like watching a good friend leave on a slow moving boat to somewhere you can never follow. It also made Eddy melancholy for another reason. Summers had always been the season of the Jam Sandwich Committee. In the past, hardly a week went by without at least one gathering out between the houses. When Eddy thought about good times, those thoughts invariably came in strawberry flavour. This summer though had been a different story. This particular Jam Sandwich session was one of only two or three in the best part of as many months. And then even those ones hadn’t been the same. She’d been preoccupied, like she was already thinking of other things and other places she needed to be. And just like Mrs Elsdon’s hip, that was sad too.

  Something was definitely up today though. Reagan appeared to be in an extremely good mood, and while Eddy hated himself for second guessing it, he was suspicious of its motive. That suspicion was further reinforced when she came bouncing back into her room and out the window. Handing him his quota of sandwiches (always two) she plonked herself down and tucked in before he could utter a word.

  ‘So?’ asked Eddy, unable to contain himself.

  ‘So what?’ responded Reagan with about three mouthfuls full of food in her mouth.

  ‘Wh…what have you got for me?’

  ‘I said after the sandwiches remember.’ She gave him one of her cheeky grins, the sort he loved and hated.

  Surrendering to her playful will, Eddy was just about to demolish his first sandwich in record time when she tossed something on to his lap. It almost went right between his legs too and down to the ground below but Eddy was just as quick and caught it before it could escape.

  ‘Nithe cath,’ said Reagan, stuffed full of the balance of her first sandwich.

  Eddy looked at the small package in his hands. It fitted easily into the palm of his hand and it was gift wrapped in dark green paper, just like a proper present.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Open it silly and find out.’

  ‘It’s not m…my birthday.’

  ‘I know. It’s just something to say thank you.’

  This doesn’t feel right. There’s something wrong with this present.

  ‘What for?’

  ‘If you ask one more question, I’m gonna take it off you.’

  It wasn’t yours to give me.

  Despite his internal misgivings, Eddy did as he was told and unwrapped the present. Beneath the fancy green paper was a small, hard box with a hinge on it.

  ‘Go on,’ encouraged Reagan. ‘Open it.’

  Slowly levering the lid open, Eddy sucked in his breath at the sight that greeted him. Shining back out at him was about the second prettiest thing he’d ever seen. It was a gold necklace and hanging from it, all etched with delicate engravings, was a cross, the crucifixion cross.

  ‘Do you like it?’

  ‘R…reagan, it’s beautiful.’

  ‘Yeah, it is isn’t it.’ Reagan had a huge, satisfied smile on her face.

  ‘Th…this must’ve cost lots of money.’

  ‘You’re worth it.’

  Reagan, Reagan, what have you done!

  Eddy desperately wanted to take the necklace out of its casing. It looked so striking in there and he was yearning so see what it felt like around his neck. But he couldn’t. It was wrong. This whole thing was wrong.

  ‘I…I can’t take this Reagan.’ Eddy closed the box and handed it over to her.

  ‘What? Why?’ Reagan looked from him, to the box in his hand and back up at him again. She wasn’t going to take it back, that much was obvious.

  ‘H…how d…did you pay for this?’

  ‘You’re kidding me right?’

  ‘I’m sorry. I j..just need to do the right thing.’

  Reagan’s expression was in the process of transformation. The confusion remained but it was quickly being run down by something bigger, something angrier.

  ‘What are you saying Eddy? If you’ve got something to say, spit it out.’

  Why is this happening? Why didn’t you just go out with Ryan today so this nev
er had to happen.

  In an instant Eddy felt all the confidence he’d been banking up over the past couple of years tumble down. He understood, at face value, what Reagan had done was sweet and that, under different circumstances, this would have been a day to remember. But the circumstances weren’t different, they were raw and unavoidable. Right now, if he could turn the world upside down and make this right, he would.

  ‘Um, aaaah,…I j…just…I think y…you n…need to take this b… back.’

  Reagan’s eyes now focused directly upon Eddy and he felt it like a knife. Then she snatched the box out of his hand in one swift, arcing motion, so that one moment it was there and the next it was gone.

  ‘It’s this bloody tree isn’t it? It told you.’

  ‘R…reagan, p…please.’

  ‘Don’t ‘please’ me. I know how it works.’ Standing up so fast that her second sandwich went somersaulting to the grass below, Reagan grabbed hold of a handy branch and faced him with a look that was way too much like the old Grandma Daisy for his liking. ‘You’re just a little bit too good for the rest of us now, aren’t you. Special little Eddy. Saving lives and studying for exams. What a hero.’

  ‘Reagan…I….’

  ‘Save it Eddy. Save it for somebody who cares.’ With that, Reagan had had enough. She turned away from him and made her way across to the window, everything about her expressing her uncapped emotions.

  ‘S…stealing’s wr..wrong…’

  Eddy had more to say but Reagan provided the full stop that cut his sentence short. She slammed the window closed so hard behind her that it was a minor miracle it didn’t smash. It occurred to Eddy that this was the first time in five years that window had ever been closed and he couldn’t help but feel a part of him had been amputated in the process.

  In the end it was a day to remember, but for all the wrong reasons.

  62. STRETCHED LIKE A RUBBER BAND

  The next few weeks were a living hell for Eddy. He tried to drown himself in study but he could never quite hold his head under the water for long enough. Something she did across there would always have him catching his breath. It could be Ryan turning up outside and waving at Mrs Crowe while Reagan went charging past her and into his car. It could be seeing her shadow against the window blind, the one that was always down now. Whatever it was, there was always something, something that made her feel close, yet a million miles away.

  Once, as she’d been trekking off to school, she’d turned back and accidently caught his eye as he watched her from his front win-dow. There’d been an acknowledgement in that fleeting glimpse, he could have sworn that. A sadness in her eyes that, like him, wished for things to be different. If only they could be.

  Eddy chewed himself up inside. Why hadn’t he handled that differently? Why did he have to be so judgemental? She was only trying to be nice after all. But it didn’t matter what he asked himself or how he wished he could replay time all over again, she’d ripped the chapter about Eddy Sullivan right out of the book of her life. And if there was one thing Eddy could count on as far as Reagan was concerned; she wasn’t one to change her mind.

  One day, a week or so after their parting of ways (okay, it was eight days to be exact), Grandma Daisy had obviously decided to offer what she could, an ear and a shoulder. It was around lunch time. Eddy knew that because he’d heard the bell ring over at the school and was wondering what Reagan did for lunch these days. Did she just hang around or did Ryan come and pick her up and take her for a ‘drag’ in that souped up vehicle of his. Somehow he thought it was the latter.

  ‘How’s things?’ Grandma Daisy asked as she leaned over his shoulder.

  ‘Fine thanks Grandma Daisy.’

  ‘Why don’t you give those books a break and have a chat with me. Keep an old lady occupied.’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Do you want to come downstairs?’ she asked, gesturing towards the door.

  ‘Just up here’s fine if that’s fine by you?’

  ‘No problem. You know Eddy, things aren’t the same now. You don’t have to spend all day up here.’

  ‘I know Grandma. I just feel comfortable up here, that’s all.’

  Grandma Daisy found a spot on Eddy’s bed and patted the space next to her, just like Reagan would pat his space on Mr Tree thought Eddy as he came over and sat beside her.

  ‘What’s on your mind, Eddy?’

  ‘P..pardon?’

  ‘Something’s wrong and if I’m not mistaken, it’s got something to do with Reagan. Am I right?’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

  That was a good question. He did. He wanted to talk for hours and hours and hours about it, but at the same time he didn’t. Talking might help him understand where it all went wrong but talking wouldn’t change anything. Reagan would continue to hate him no matter what and, while what she did was wrong, it was all his fault.

  ‘I d…don’t know.’

  ‘Well I’ll cut you a deal then. I’ll talk about it and you join in if and when you want to. Okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  Thanks Grandma.

  ‘Here’s how I see things.’ Grandma Daisy shifted so she could face Eddy a bit better before carrying on. ‘You and Reagan have had a spat. A good one too by the looks of it. She’s angry and you’re sad. That’s the way it usually works. Now, I’m not here to be nosy, so I’m not going to ask the whys and whats but I will say one thing. If ever I’ve seen two close friends, it’s you two. The funny thing about being close is that when you do argue they tend to be doozies. You should’ve seen some of the howlers your Grandpa Nevil and I had. I thought the roof was going to cave in. But you know what?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘We got through them all. Every one of them. It’s good that you’re feeling bad, and I bet she’s feeling bad too.’

  ‘Wh…why’s it good to feel bad?’

  ‘Because you’re ‘feeling’ something. If you weren’t, then I’d be worried.’

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘Because if you didn’t it would mean that you’d both given up, that the friendship didn’t mean anything and that it probably never did.’

  ‘So,’ echoed Eddy, ‘if she’s angry it means that she still likes me?’

  ‘As strange as it sounds Eddy, yes.’

  ‘So one day, she and I might be friends again?’

  ‘I think you’re probably still friends. You’ve just got to let the rubber band relax though.’

  ‘What?’ Eddy’s face must’ve looked a picture because Grandma Daisy laughed.

  ‘Relationships are like rubber bands in my opinion. When we’re getting along well, they’re under no pressure, but when we fight and argue it’s like they’re all stretched. What a lot of people don’t seem to recognise these days is that a stretched rubber band is still a rubber band. If anything, it’s showing exactly how strong it really is. The young couples these days, they just figure it’s going to snap so they get out before it can sting them. But you see Eddy, rubber bands are remarkable things, they can withstand more pressure than we give them credit for and then they’ll go right back to where they started…if you’ll just give them that chance.’

  ‘S…so right now Reagan and my rubber band is just stretched?’

  ‘Yep, that’s pretty much how I see it.’

  ‘I hope you’re right Grandma Daisy.’

  ‘Just give it time Eddy, you’ll see. Just give her a little time.’

  So that’s what Eddy did, he gave Reagan time. In reality he had little choice but at least Grandma Daisy had given him a purpose. It didn’t mean that the days without Reagan passed by like a breeze, they were hard, but he had hope.

  He actually started to picture the rubber band in his mind, all stretched like he knew it would be. It was one of those big, fat ones. He made it that way because they were the real strong ones. Then, as he held it up to his mind’s eye, he’d visualise it beginning to slacken, to re
lease all that pent up energy and come towards that position where it so belonged, one of complete relaxation and comfort.

  Who knows, he figured, maybe there was some cosmic energy, some source that took your greatest wish, your most earnest visualisation and made it happen for you. What else did he have to lose.

  63. SAME SOUNDS, DIFFERENT VOICES

  As those long, tortured days without Reagan continued, a new and equally painful development erupted next door.

  The sounds of fighting which had disappeared after Mr Crowe had run off to see the world had come back again. Only this time both voices were female, one older, one younger. It didn’t happen every day but it was a good week when two or three days passed without it.

  It hurt him to hear those angry sounds. At one level it had to do with who was doing the arguing but at another, it had to do with the fact that there was arguing at all. There’d been too many years when he’d had to cower at the sound of fury and he didn’t like the way it haunted him again. It was so intense sometimes that Eddy could actually feel it in the air around him.

  While he couldn’t actually hear the words being thrown around, especially now that Reagan’s window was permanently closed, he could usually tell when it was over for the day. The Crowe arguments had a habit of rounding off with an almighty slam. In this case there were two distinct versions. One was your plain old slam, and that meant Reagan had locked herself away in her bedroom, while the other was the slam followed by the squeal. The squeal being the rubber of Ryan’s tyres burning the road outside. Eddy didn’t quite know which one was the worse.

  Watching Reagan screech off in that car made his heart ache. There was no use in denying it. The space in between their bedrooms had been ‘their space’ and seeing her silhouette behind that passenger door window only made him realise that Reagan had replaced that space with something new, something flash and something fast.

  But on the flip side, knowing that she was stewing away in her bedroom, just a thin pane of glass away, was gut wrenching. Just because she was angry at him, and just because he couldn’t understand why she’d done what she’d done with the necklace, didn’t mean he wasn’t bursting to get through to her, to tell her that everything will be alright. That life, when it boiled down, was all about rubber bands.