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2. the lily and the rose
by Richard Trotter2. The Lily and the Rose
It was the 30th June and Summer raced on. There was tragedy in the air as Lewis's house had caught fire and he had to leave work early. Rob took me on a drive to see of we could spot the inferno but we found nothing. Also both members of the kitchen management team were ill. I worked for a couple of hours to help out but soon regretted it. Jamie and Adam spent their time fighting, messing around or bimbling along. I decided to leave them to it, as the team didn't appreciate me coming in on my day off.
After that I met up with Rob and James and we all had a relatively unsuccessful turn on the chick clicker. Most of the time it felt like I was invisible , and I thought it would be good to market the secret of passing through the world unseen that I seemed to possess. I could become rich and famous by processing this unwanted special power.
I had only recently met James. He went to school with Rob and was the son of my high school PE teacher, Mr Anderson. I remembered him fondly, even though for most of the time I hated PE. I recalled being picked last every week, standing by the goal chatting to my friend while we were supposed to be in defence. Another time an overweight kid trod on my area when we were playing rugby. And everyone laughing at me as I struggled to get the basketball through the hoop. A few times a term I would get a note from my mum saying that my asthma was too bad to do PE. Graham and I had spent a lot of time reminiscing lately, and he remembered the times when Anderson asked him to go to the canteen:“ A cheese baguette and a cherry coke please laddie”.
Later that day I went to see Graham in his shop. We went to the pied bull to watch the penalty shoot out between Germany and Argentina. I had fond memories of the pub, having worked there in the autumn of my short exile from Wetherspoons
“Why did you cross over the road then?” Graham asked me.
“I don't know the answer. I don't know the answer to that question” I answered.
“You sounded like Rain Man there”, Graham continued and I smiled at his banter, remembering buying the DVD then putting it on the shelf with the other 700. On we walked to Brannigans to watch the first half of Italy against Ukraine. It was not that exciting and the lock in the men's toilet didn't work either. We finished the night in Alexanders, which was right next to Graham's recently opened Triathlon store. Inside there was a party celebrating the venue's 15th anniversary..
Graham was tired and couldn't stay that long, but I still managed to spot a couple of nice girls and do nothing about it. There was a band playing 70s hits and there was a woman dancing. She looked so free, and I fondly remembered my own dancing days which were now sadly over. .It was a Friday night and for the last few months I'd been doing a dance course but now it had now finished. I fondly recalled holding Katriona in my arms as we jived away, her hair twirling into my face as she did the American spin.. Back to reality, I looked all around me and felt like I was trapped , looking at life like it was a painting. I could only look at its vivid beauty but not touch it
Graham admired the new Rufus Court sign, thinking it was amazing. I was bored by now and thought it was time to retreat. We briefly talked about the 2 girls I'd seen- I was optimistic that one of them had looked at me, but the moment had gone. “She's not even pretty” my friend said. Everyone had said that about Sally as well, the awkward beauty with the dishwater colour eyes I had adored for a year and a half. It was too late for that now, she had left months ago , but now she was a ghost moving inside of me like the sea in a black and white film.
Days later I stood in the garden as the sun beat gently down on my back. The lilies were in full orange bloom. Lily was the name of my late grandmother who had died back in 98. Next to them were the roses that we had extracted from my other dead grandmothers house after she died and we had to clear her house earlier in the year. They were blooming quietly away as well. Life went on, the flowers would bloom each year and the sun would still shine, a world turning with one person standing there alone.
My self obsessed mood continued when I read my old diary from the previous Christmas: “everything I know about her I could write on the back of a stamp. Does desire need a reason or explanation?” I recalled speaking to Sally when she told me that we were like ”two opposites who don't attract” and thought that it was a classic quote. Now I knew that desire was just a natural event, the flowers would bloom and I would always yearn for what was out of reach. 01/23/2007 Posted on 01/23/2007
Copyright © 2024 Richard Trotter
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