50 Bales of Hay

by James Perch

  We meandered along behind him, until we stood on a rocky outcrop, on the hill overlooking the makeshift track circuit. To get a better view, Lorraine asked to be hoisted up onto Mark’s shoulders, steadying herself with her hands on Keeley’s shoulders. He did so and she towered over the rest of us. From where we stood it wasn’t possible for everyone to see down into the valley below, so it was a case of take your turn and admire the view one at a time.

  “What’s the weather forecast for tomorrow?” asked Keeley from somewhere in front.

  Lorraine tapped Mark’s shoulders and he deftly placed her back on terra firma. I could see Keeley now that Lorraine had gone. I could see all obstacles in my way.

  “It’s gonna be a bright, bright sunshiny day, according to the radio this morning,” Jez said. “That’ll make it easier to drive through. It’s not a race, it’s all about survival,” he told us with a mischievous grin. “I’ve done this before at another demolition derby. My dad took some pictures. Take a look at these.”

  Jez pulled out a small stack of action shots of cars pummelling into each other. They all looked beaten up even on the starting line. I was surprised they’d start, never mind finish a race. The last photo was of two cars colliding. One piled right into the back of another.

  “Ooh, right up the backside!” yelled Mark.

  Lorraine looked at Mark and said, “Rectum?”

  “Oh yes!” Jez confirmed. “Pretty much destroyed ’em. Just so you know, we’re meeting down there tomorrow at half past two. Andy Prowse has three cars prepared for us, but we have to pick them up from his scrap yard at half past one. He’s off to pick up his mother-in-law at quarter to two from the train station, so he won’t be waiting around long. If you’re lucky you might catch his wife though. She sometimes locks up his yard for him.”

  “Jez mentioned he’d bring those pictures along,” Elaine said interrupting the wreck-fest, “so I thought I’d pack the wedding photos for us girlies, while the boys ogle the toys for boys.” With a chorus of approval from all but Jez, she whipped them out. “I wasn’t sure when we’d be able to get us all together in one spot any time soon, so I thought I’d snap up the opportunity.”

  “What hymns did they have?” Lorraine asked. “Any that we might know?”

  “One at least, that everyone knows: ‘All Things Bright and Beautiful’. I love that tune,” Elaine said, bursting into song. “The purple-headed mountain…” She broke off abruptly, humming the rest and feeling self-conscious with no-one else joining in. “The service went without a hitch. It was really nice. Mum drank a little too much wine waiting for the toasts, and she fell over on the dance floor, dragging Dad down with her. She was wearing one of her dress rings and she bashed it as she fell. It’s not an expensive ring, but it’s one of her favourites. I can imagine she’s off to the jewellers this week to get her ring piece sorted.”

  “You scrub up well!” I laughed as I saw the first picture of her.

  Her eyebrows rose and she gave me a playful swipe.

  “No seriously, you look amazing! I bet you’d look good as a bride.”

  Elaine blushed, smiled and said, “Thanks.”

  She had the look of Louise Brooks from a Charlie Chaplin film, with her black bob curling up just under her ears, which suited the theme of the wedding; the 1920s. She had a little flash of colour in her headdress behind one ear, which brought the focus onto her haircut, styled especially for the occasion. She’d had about an inch cut off the length of her hair, which exposed her gorgeous neck. Her lipstick and make-up were exaggerated for the photographs which were, in the majority, monochrome. The groom looked like a dashing millionaire and Elaine’s sister was stunning, in a pristine sleek white gown. Elaine was in a short flapper dress with long gloves. There weren’t many pictures of Jez. He had the look of someone who obviously wasn’t comfortable with the subject of marriage and was keeping a low profile, preferring to remain in the background with the ushers.

  Elaine pointed out a photo of her dad and said, “He was delivering his Father of the Bride speech when he turned to the happy couple and said ‘Remember the first time you said those three words to each other?’ and somebody shouted out ‘Is it in?’ There was a little chuckle at that, before he carried on.”

  “Cheeky,” said Mark.

  “The groom’s mum, Eileen started drinking early, too. She spent about an hour on the dance floor dancing daintily with her glass of wine in her hand. She was all for joining in the fun. It was only when the DJ played Dexy’s Midnight Runners ‘Come On Eileen’, and the dance floor filled up, that she left, to avoid unwanted attention.”

  We passed the snaps around and then decided to get some food. Nobody wanted to go home just yet, so we just chose to get a convenient snack somewhere.

  On the way home we stopped off at McDonald’s for a bite. When we all piled in, Mark casually quipped that he had a mate from Scotland, Johnny McKay, who they nicknamed McDonald.

  “Does he come here a lot?” asked Lorraine.

  “Nah, but if you lift up his kilt you’ll see a quarter pounder,” he laughed.

  “I’ll have a coffee as well, I think,” Elaine said thoughtfully, “I need the caffeine.”

  “Have you been in Costa Coffee?” Lorraine asked.

  “I went in with Jez the other day. They asked him what size cup. I think he got punch-drunk with all the options and told them that average was adequate. He can’t cope with them too big.”

  “They asked me what cup size too,” said Keeley, “I answered, ‘about a C cup’. I’ve put on a bit of weight since I last got measured. The guy serving me replied, ‘No, small, medium or large?’ I felt a bit daft.”

  “Mark and I are off to Bangor in September for a weekend break,” Lorraine said, changing the subject.

  “Oh that should be nice,” Elaine remarked. “Which one?”

  “Bangor in North Wales,” replied Mark drily.

  “Oh don’t be naughty, Mark,” Keeley pushed him playfully. “We don’t wish to know what you’re going to get up to. I’ve got a three day course in Oldham next month. I’ve never been further north than Reading, so I wouldn’t know how to get there. Luckily I’m going by train.”

  “That’s quite a way,” agreed Mark.

  “When I bought the ticket, the guy at the train station was only too glad to help when I asked him which was the best way to Oldham.”

  “I’ve got no plans as yet,” I said. “I’m going to play it by ear.

  “Well tomorrow’s going to be fun,” said Jez. “I’m gonna kick some butt.”

  We all looked at Jez and he flashed an evil grin. Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.

  Demolition Derby

  Typically for me, the next day, I arrived late at Mrs Prowse’s scrap yard. I had tried to arrive on time but I encountered roadworks on my journey. Just as I expected, she was waiting at the gate with her old bangers out.

  “Eee Jake. You’re late,” said Mrs Prowse. “Never mind love. Here are the keys to that old Volvo.”

  I thanked her and took the keys. The car was beaten up but it started first time, so within a few minutes I’d driven around to the dirt track to meet everyone. The girls had decided not to race, but were happy enough to watch. Jez and Mark were already out tootling along the course when I arrived. I joined the track and sauntered around too, getting the feel of it.

  Jez had given the girls boiler suits to wear, in case they wanted to join in the race, but up until now, only Keeley was wearing one. She flagged me down and jumped in.

  “Do you fancy taking me for a ride?” she asked.

  “As long as you’re careful and take precautions. Put your seatbelt on and fasten it tight,” I answered.

  The other two lads were doing one more lap before we took our places on the starting line, so I picked up the pace to catch them up, just to check out their form. Mark saw me pull alongside and waved jovially. I flicked him a lazy salute and sped up a fraction to see what Jez was up to
. As I pulled alongside him, I noticed he didn’t flicker. His eyes were focused purely on the track ahead. I had a premonition that he might be trouble, and this was probably not the kind of thing to be getting involved in. I noted the hairpin bends and tyres stacked on corners. At least there were plenty of barriers around for safety.

  Jez pulled up to where Lorraine was holding a starting flag. I pulled up alongside him and we waited a few seconds for Mark to join us. When we were all parked, Jez jumped out of his car and stood between our two cars. We rolled our windows down to hear him speak.

  “OK, I guess we’re ready to start,” he announced with a grin. “There’s no prize, this is just for fun. When Lorraine drops the first flag we commence. After five laps, the first car to pass the chequered flag wins. Game on, gents.”

  “Good luck, guys,” Mark shouted as he started his car and revved the engine.

  “Are you sure you want to be here?” I asked Keeley.

  She turned to me and put her thumbs up.

  “Ready when you are, then,” I shouted over the din.

  Lorraine stood on a little grassy mound and held up the starting flag. We all sat poised for the moment, until suddenly, the flag swung downwards. The cars flung forwards and we were off. Jez took the lead and Mark was soon directly behind him. On the first corner we all slowed down until the track straightened out again. Mark took his chance and accelerated into Jez’s car. With a crunch, both cars came into contact. Jez accelerated and swerved wide in front of Mark. Mark hit his brake sharply and I pulled alongside him. The track narrowed and we both just squeezed through by driving alongside each other, metal scraping on metal, leaving marks on the paintwork. Mark clipped me again and my tyre found a pothole. I slowed very slightly and Mark raced off again, soon catching up with Jez. Jez meandered in front, keeping Mark behind him until the next corner, where he squeezed through on a chicane, slammed into the side of Jez and overtook momentarily.

  Round and round we went. Every lap that passed saw a bit more carnage. I was wondering if the driver’s door would open when we were done. Keeley encouraged me on, punching the air with her fist excitedly. It all remained nail-bitingly close until the final lap. On a sharp corner, Jez slammed into the side of Mark, forcing him to collide with a stack of tyres and swerve out of the race. Jez slowed very slightly to gloat so I took my chance and zoomed past. Jez was ultra-competitive and hated being overtaken, to the point of driving dangerously. We neared the chequered flag, but as his car pulled alongside ours, he ploughed into the side of us, forcing me to swerve into a tree. I thought it was meant to be fun, but that shunt could have killed us. Keeley sat in the passenger seat dazed but unhurt, held in tight by her seatbelt.

  “Are you OK, Keeley?” I asked.

  She looked over at me and grinned. “Yeah I think so. What a rush!”

  I undid my seatbelt and stormed over to where Jez stood. He was blowing kisses to an imaginary crowd and waving, holding aloft an invisible trophy.

  “You bloody idiot!” I shouted. “You could’ve killed us!”

  “Hold up Jake! Are you a sore loser?” He turned his back to me and I lunged toward him. As I neared him, he brought up his crash helmet and flung it over his shoulder. Unfortunately for me, I walked straight into the arc of the flying helmet on its ascent. I flinched and held my nose. My eyes started to water and I stumbled. I must have stepped on half a brick or some kind of angular rock, because I lost my footing and fell backwards. To add to the catalogue of mishaps, I hit my head on a branch lying on the ground. With a stinging nose and a bruise forming on my forehead, I wasn’t best pleased.

  Keeley saw my predicament and, to her credit, didn’t laugh at me. Instead she knelt down beside me and lightly kissed my swollen head. I could feel her hot breath just inches away. My head started to tingle as the blood pulsed to the swelling.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” said Jez, and for a second I thought he meant it. At least until he added, “Being from a farming background I thought you might be used to a couple of achers.”

  A stab of pain in my temple brought me back to my hospital bed. Queen was playing on the hospital radio. I could hear ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ playing in the corridor.

  “Carry On. Carry On. As if nothing really matters.”

  “That’s good advice, Freddie” I remarked at the radio and settled back once more.

  A Year Later - November ’93

  In the summer of ’93, I decided not to see Jez and Elaine, as Aunt Myrtle fell ill and was taken into hospital with self-diagnosed appendicitis. The doctor examined her thoroughly and told her she had acute angina. She was grateful for the news and took it as a compliment.

  At the same time, dad also had problems. His usual farmhand, Billy, gave me a call and told me that my dad had fallen over and broken his leg. The family doctor came out to him and noted how stressed he appeared. Under the doctor’s strict advice, my dad had agreed to sell the farm and retire to a bungalow. I stuck around to help pack. Dad had never encouraged me to take on the farm. You would get the impression he didn’t want me working anywhere near it, apart from when he was short-staffed, when his farmhand got sick. He preferred it when I tended our little allotment. He was happy knowing that somewhere close, his son was busy sowing his seed.

  In the autumn I attended a firework display and bumped into Jez and Elaine. Jez was drunk and keeping his distance. We traded awkward small-talk, until Elaine wandered off to buy jacket potatoes. Jez sidled over with a grin.

  “While you’re here I guess I should thank you for helping me with ‘errands for my dad’,” he slurred, nudging me and over-emphasising a wink. “Celine says thanks, too. Ha!”

  Fireworks whizzed and banged around us as I leant in to be heard over the noise. “You’re seeing someone behind her back? You’re crazy. She thinks the world of you! God knows why. She’s worth ten of you.”

  Jez stared at me, trying to focus. “Mate!” he said, far too jovially for my liking, “I was getting bored. She’s too prim ’n’ proper. Now’s your chance to try chatting her up, I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

  Just then, Elaine appeared out of nowhere and slapped Jez. Obviously she’d overheard everything. She then stormed off into the shadows.

  “Now look what you’ve gone and done!” I shouted at Jez, who just shrugged and kept drinking. I squinted in the darkness looking frantically for her. I knew Jez had a mean streak, but I didn’t realise how little he cared for her. Just then, I recognised her beanie hat, just breaking free from the crowd in the opposite direction of the bonfire. I broke into a jog trying to navigate through the crowd towards her. I soon caught up and called her name. She turned around and faced me. Tears were running down her cheeks.

  “I knew something was up, but I’ve just been in denial. Jez hasn’t been paying me any attention for months after I spurned his advances. I think I had already fallen for you and was plucking up the courage to break it off with him. But then, when you disappeared back to the farm, I nearly gave up on you.”

  “But you cut me off the moment when we kissed!” I exclaimed, already ruing the time lost together.

  “I was testing you. I wanted you to prove that I meant something to you. You never responded.”

  “I’ve never been good at picking up the signals. I’ve no experience with dealing with relationships further than just being friends. Dad always saw to that. After years of being warned off relationships by my dad, I was gradually ground down, resigned to the fact that I’d remain a bachelor. Being here and meeting you has changed my mind. I’ve felt a connection since we first met.”

  “But now…” Elaine started and burst into tears.

  I threw my arms around her and she gripped me tightly.

  “No more tears,” I urged gently. “I’m here for you. A smile will make things better again.”

  Elaine lifted her head and looked at me wearily.

  “Just a little smile. You’ll feel better, I promise,” I coaxed. She still didn’t look conv
inced. “Here, take one of these.” I offered her a marshmallow. “In fact, take two—no wait, have three.” I thrust a handful of marshmallows towards her mouth and she playfully accepted all of them at once. She tried to laugh as I stuffed her cheeks.

  “It seems like you’ve always been trying to stuff something in my mouth,” she said, still struggling to chew the marshmallows into a manageable mouthful. I let her get her breath back and we walked back to the warmth of the bonfire. By now Jez was long gone. I’d be happy never to see him again.

  “I’ve been meaning to tell you,” she said. “I got Laid last month.”

  “Thanks for sharing,” I answered.

  “It’s a really good album,” she continued. “I’ve not heard much James since they re-released ‘Sit Down’. I know you like music, so you should give it a try. You can borrow it if you like.”

  “I think I might just take you up on that offer,” I replied gratefully.

  The crowd were enjoying the fireworks and a big gang of girls were making pronounced oohs and aaaahs. A guy with them decided he’d do his Kenneth Williams impression and my thoughts were brought back to memories of my dad.

  I watch my father come in looking exhausted. He grabs his whiskey, a coaster and an empty glass. He turns on the television and settles down to watch an old Carry On Film. The film plays out and I watch my father’s face for any sign of amusement. I don’t think his gaze is focused on the TV at all, but through it. The credits roll and he turns off the set. He notices me reading in the corner of the room, as I pretend to do homework.

  “I’m surprised you don’t know those films off by heart, Dad. You’re always watching them. I think my subconscious could recite this one word for word.”

  He looks at me for a second and with a barely visible shake of his head, he emerges a fraction from his reverie.

  “The last time I heard your mum laugh, we were watching a Carry On film. She had such a sweet laugh, so innocent.” He doesn’t look at me as he speaks, as if the sight of me would bring back some long-forgotten memory. “If I concentrate hard enough, I can still hear her laugh. I watch each film to remind me of her. I never want to forget her smile, or the sound of her voice. I sense her, but I struggle to visualise her. She once told me that we could overcome anything if we found something to smile about.” He put his hand on my shoulder and gave it the feeblest of grips, as he walked past me. “I guess she stopped smiling.”