Where nothing happens.
Sensible Saturday
Author: tidalscribe.com
Friday Flash Fiction 500 -Through The Portal
Mike was the last person I wanted to talk to on this amazing day. I was just about to quietly explain to Stewart that he must be witness to what I was about to do, when Mike from our cycling club came bowling over with his inane chatter. Stewart was the only person who knew that The Portal on the beach was not just an art installation. Now my watch was telling me that the portal alignment was reaching the optimum moment again.
I had messed up the first time, but a scientist learns from his mistakes and keeps trying. Taking a step forward I had felt a force I can’t describe, saw a break in reality… or did I see anything? Flustered, I would not use the word panic, I had instinctively closed my eyes and stepped back.
This time I must do it, there might not be another chance, the portal was only granted a few days as part of the arts festival, then it must come down. I could not let all my work and research be wasted. Nobody would notice me as they wandered around the portal, taking photos of themselves in the reflections, touching the shiny surface to feel the vibrations. I strode forward.
It hadn’t worked, I was still standing on the beach looking at the sea, the portal behind me. Then I saw myself walking towards me.
The other me spoke, or had I read his thoughts?
‘I’ve done it, brought myself from a parallel universe.’
Simultaneously we reached out to touch each other, then we both recoiled, speaking at the same moment…
‘I’m not sure if… we must be careful…
I was expecting to go over to your world as you arrived.
I expected you to go over as I arrived.
Surely we can’t both exist in the same place.’
I motioned to him to be silent.
‘But we have proved that parallel universes exist, what I see around me is exactly what I left behind, you are even wearing exactly the same clothes.’
‘Are you Doctor Benjamin Gower?’ we spoke together again.
‘All these people on the beach have not noticed a thing, if they looked at us they would probably assume we were identical twins.’
We both laughed. ‘I’m an only child, I always wanted a brother.’
For a moment I felt as if we were naughty school boys doing an experiment that would not be approved of. I decided to remain silent, giving the other Ben a chance to relate his story.
‘I wanted Stewart to observe what happened, but that awful Mike turned up and started talking, once he starts he never stops.’
I twisted round to look back through the portal and sure enough there was Mike jabbering away to Stewart, gesticulating as if he was working his new bicycle gears. What could be better proof that an alternate universe would be exactly the same, in how many universes was boring Mike replicated?
Tuesday Tale 900 – Portal
‘Even if I believed or understood this fantastic project of yours Ben, I can’t see how you can finance and build it.’
My old school friend was a scientist, a poet, a mystic, a polymath… I had never understood his research or his poetry and he could not understand why I had chosen finance as a career. Cycling, chess and long suffering wives were the only things we had in common as we slipped into our forties.
‘Art installation Stuart, the council are delighted to have Portal as the centrepiece for their arts festival… your move.’
I had lost concentration on our game of chess.
‘Let me get this right, the council erects a fifteen metre high door frame on the beach with lights and strange sounds to make it an ‘experience’, blissfully unaware that your portal is tuned in to try and make contact across the universe.’
‘To re-establish a broken link, they will respond.’
I felt a shiver down my spine, I thought of all the sci fi films we used to watch when we were teenagers, surely he did not believe all that rubbish, he a respected scientist.
Ben laughed. ‘I can’t guarantee it will work, but if it doesn’t no one will be any the wiser, I don’t want to lose my credibility at work.’
‘Unless something goes wrong.’
Any sci fi fan should know something always goes wrong.
‘That’s why I had to tell somebody, only you know anything about this. The council have been working with an ‘arts company’ that has no connection to my name or my work. I can trust you to keep it secret.’
‘You can be sure of that Ben, I also have my credibility to preserve, but what is it we are expecting to happen? Do we have to wait for midnight or sunrise?’
He paused, holding his knight aloft.
‘No, no our time keeping is irrelevant, it could happen at any moment. Imagine when you switch on your radio, the radio waves were there all along, just waiting for you to turn the connection back on.’
‘And then what?’
‘Built in receivers will transmit all communications to my lab where they will be safe. ‘
‘How will you understand aliens from the other side of the vast universe?’
‘No, no that would be impossible. Did I not explain, we will be linking in with a parallel universe, with a planet identical to Earth, another real Earth. It is going to be so exciting proving we live in a multiverse.’
‘Ha ha, so another version of yourself is suddenly going to appear on the beach, how will you account for two of you?’
‘Presumably I would be transported in exchange and nobody would notice the difference.’
I stood on the cliff top looking down at the portal, it was certainly impressive and I was almost afraid to go down on the beach near it. Thankfully my wife was taking the children to their Saturday morning clubs and thought I was out cycling with Ben. They were looking forward to us all going to the many festival activities on Sunday. Hopefully by that time I would be reassured the portal was safe and just a ridiculous fantasy.
Members of the public were loving the creation, walking through it, looking at their reflections, taking selfies. The beach was getting crowded and perhaps no one would even notice visitors from a parallel universe. I locked my bike up and jogged down the zig zag path. As I plodded across the sand I felt as much as heard the strange thrumming. I was drawn to the huge rectangular arch gleaming in the sun, its weird surface reflecting and bending the sea, the beach and the people. Some reached out to touch the surface while others stood back, gazing up as if waiting for someone or something.
I moved forward to touch the vibrating surface and jumped when I felt a touch on my shoulder, it was Ben behind me.
‘What do you think Stewart?’
‘Okay, I admit I’m impressed, as an art work, as a popular attraction, but nothing has happened yet.’
‘How can you be so sure? You would not believe what I have seen…’
‘Hey Ben, Stuart, didn’t think this was your sort of thing.’
I groaned, it was Mike from the cycling club who loved to talk. Ben made his excuses and slipped away, said he was just off to take a few photos for Instagram, leaving me to hear in great detail about Mike’s new gears. I never saw Ben again.
The police interviewed Mike and myself as the last people to see Ben. I had to go and see Ben’s wife. I told her and the police the truth. Yes Ben was in a good mood and we had stopped off on our regular bike ride as we were both fascinated by the portal.
It wasn’t till Monday that the police had bothered to get in touch, a missing man who was not vulnerable was not of great importance, husbands walk out on their wives all the time. Then others began to be reported missing. University students who hadn’t called their parents and didn’t answer their phones. Adults living alone who did not turn up for work…
I had promised to keep Ben’s secret. Would anyone believe me if I told them the truth?
Silly Sunday – Strange Seaside
Press The Button and Wait
Being under the hospital for five years after cancer treatment means getting advice quicker than going through your GP. Which is how I came to be having an appointment at the Lymphoedema Clinic.
When the oncologist said I would have to have lymph nodes removed she said there was a risk of lymphoedema, but I was unlikely to get it. I replied ‘Oh good, I don’t want to wear one of those awful sleeves.’ No doubt she thought there were worse things that could happen and I assumed I would not get it, especially after two years had gone past… until I noticed that my right forearm seemed a bit puffy…
My appointment letter included a map to find the hospice where the clinic was located, the good news was it was just up the road from the bus station, but the instructions didn’t sound very welcoming.
‘There is no waiting room so please don’t arrive early… or late. If it is sunny there is a bench outside. Press the buzzer below the lymphoedema clinic sign and wait for instructions.’
It was a sunny day luckily, but I was sure nobody would answer the buzzer. I arrived just in time to hear a woman announcing she was Janet. She was let in, that was hopeful, but I guessed they would say go up in the lift, even though it was only a two storey building. I hate lifts.
The greeting was friendly and I was told to come up in the lift and turn left, or was it right and sit on a chair in the corridor. The other Janet was sitting waiting and she said ‘Oh I could have kept the door open for you’. Lucky she didn’t as it later transpired that on no account were we to enter if the door was open without ringing the buzzer to announce our arrival!
I was soon called in, by which time the other Janet and I had exchanged the complete medical histories of our families.
All readers need to know about Lymphoedema is it is difficult to spell and not to be confused with Lymphoma. Our lymphatic system is a wondrous thing we don’t take much notice of unless we have swollen glands, or doctors start talking about ‘spreading to the lymph nodes’ in cancer patients. If you are in normal health it is very clever at fighting off infection and cleansing the body of impurities. It works fine if not interfered with by surgery or radiotherapy. The salient point is that your blood is pumped round by your heart, but your lymphatic system has no pump, it relies on the general movement of your body. For the very immobile and the elderly this is why they can have swollen legs as it drains down but can’t drain up.
My diagnosis was done with a tape measure to compare arms, but also a clever high tech thingy the nurse presses at various points that reads how much fluid is lurking and where. The dreaded pressure sleeve doesn’t squash fluid out, it makes your muscles work harder, the better to keep lymph fluid moving. The condition can’t be cured but can be managed. Like all things medical there are dire warnings of what might happen like cellulitis, an infection of the skin. Any sign and you must get antibiotics straight away, so there is a card to carry on holiday in case a doctor doesn’t believe you!
Chocolate Moose is glad he doesn’t have to wear this.
The Four Big Things we have to do are skin care, exercise, pressure and lymphatic drainage which I am learning on my next appointment. In the meantime the sleeve is quite hard to get on and the awful colour makes it look like I have an artificial arm. But compared with all the multitude of medical problems people have I’m not complaining. If people ask what’s wrong with my arm and they do ask, I am tempted to say it got chopped off or I have third degree burns, which sounds much more exciting.
Monday Musing – Fifteen Seconds of Fame
Would you like fifteen seconds of fame, or would you avoid it? Perhaps fifteen minutes or even one of those weeks that is a long time in politics. There are many ways to achieve brief fame; it could be accidental or you could plan your life to achieve it.
You could pop in to Pret a Manger if you hear a prince happens to be visiting, like Karl Burns our regular Bournemouth Big Issue seller, who subsequently appeared on the television news… repeatedly.
But perhaps you will be unlucky and your stomach will be filmed walking by for one of those obesity items on the news. Just unfortunate that everyone you know recognises the hand knitted jumper your wife made you.
Your brief moment of fame could be multiplied many times over if it appears on every news bulletin. You didn’t even know your town was having an important by election and are totally unprepared to intelligently express your views as you only popped out in your old DIY clothes to buy another tin of paint.
‘Do you think Tom Wilko stands a chance of getting in?’
‘Not if he closes all his stores, where am going to get paint in future?’
‘Well, it seems locals have more pressing concerns than what happens in Westminster.’
How Do they pick people to interview in the street and more curiously, who are those people who get interviewed in their own homes? Do they knock on doors to surprise you or give you three hours to give the house a thorough clean and mow the lawn. No one has ever asked to interview me or anyone I know. The ‘family interview’ asking how they will cope with mortgage rises, hospital / school / shop closures has the puppy and sweet toddlers playing in the foreground. It would be far more interesting if the dog bit the presenter, the little child’s only words were poo poo and the smoke alarm went off because something was burning on the stove.
And what about the viewers? Does the husband who abandoned his wife and children last year feel guilty when he sees her describing their visits to food banks and being thrown out by the landlord as they couldn’t pay the rent?
Have you ever had a brief moment of fame or seen your neighbours on television?
Silly Saturday
HAPPY AUTUMN EQUINOX
WHEN YOU GET CAUGHT OUT IN A TORRENTIAL DOWNPOUR DO YOU GET OUT YOUR UMBRELLA OR YOUR PHONE? RUSH FOR SHELTER OR RUSH ON INSTAGRAM?
HOW HAS YOUR WEEK BEEN?
Tuesday Tiny Tale 500 – Overheard
I don’t make a habit of eavesdropping, well only in my capacity as a writer. Often you can’t help overhearing people on their mobile phones, in the street, on the bus, in the toile…toilet?
Usually in the Ladies only banal conversations emanate from inside cubicles.
‘Are you sure you don’t want a wee George before we go, Mummy’s going to have a wee, are you sure you don’t… Daisy are you washing your hands properly, Daisy are you still there, wait till Mummy’s finished, don’t go out… Daisy, DAISEEE?’
I know from films and TV thrillers that men have endless dramatic conversations at the urinals, threatening, exchanging important information, dealing drugs or even assassinating each other.
The other day at our local busy sports centre the Ladies had a more interesting conversation to overhear.
Surely she’s not taking her phone into the cubicle, she’s actually carrying on talking while she’s going and I can hear the other person clearly, must be on speaker.
I felt almost guilty intruding on their conversation, but I was in my cubicle first, I didn’t ask her to move in next door.
‘Oh my god Bella, are you sure, whyever would you think that?’
‘He was late home that night.’
‘Was it his darts night?’
‘Till 3am! Creeping in but woke me up anyway. I asked where he’d been and he told me not to worry and go back to sleep. As if I could, especially when I could hear him putting the washing machine on.’
‘But that still doesn’t mean he had anything to do with it.’
‘Oh what shall I do, ring that number they gave out on the news?’
‘Bella, you can’t seriously think Dave could be involved, they would have needed a chainsaw.’
‘He’s got a chainsaw.’
‘Oh, well that’s probably because he is a tree surgeon. Don’t do anything yet, you don’t actually know anything.’
I didn’t dare flush the toilet, I did not want her to know anyone was listening in to what could be an incriminating conversation. Nor did I want to miss a word.
‘Bella, have you told anyone else yet?’
‘No, of course not, I just had to tell someone, do you think I’m crazy?’
‘Yes er no… is there anything you have not told me about Dave?’
‘No, well there was that one time I got a weird phone call from his ex.’
‘As she was still alive that’s reassuring. Where are you now?’
‘Walking the dog in the park.’
‘And where’s Dave?’
‘He was asleep when I left.’
‘Not the park where they found the body parts!’
‘No, that’s still taped off and police everywhere.’
‘I suppose you could call that number anonymously… and don’t go home.’
The toilet flushed and the door banged, I did not hear any more, didn’t dare creep out till she was gone. But what should I do. Back out in reception and the café it was so busy there was no way of guessing who had been in the Ladies. How could I phone the police and say someone called Dave who lived with Bella might be the murderer?
Don’t Lick the Dishwasher
Holiday Guide for Dogs
Many of our humans take us to stay with their friends and relatives, which can be a bit of an ordeal, but mostly better than being sent ‘on a little holiday,’ their euphemism for dumping us in a boarding kennel.
It is important to beware of the pitfalls of staying in another house, but also to be understanding, remember, there are no bad humans, only badly trained humans.
After a testing journey in an overpacked car or crowded train, how you are greeted is a good indication of how the visit will pan out.
‘Oh he’s so adorable.’
I’m a girl!
‘Who’s a cutsie wootsie little puppy then.’
I’m two… and for goodness sake, aren’t there any humans around here with intelligent conversation?
But that’s better than
‘I hope he’s not allowed on the furniture.’
Where do they expect me to lie, surely not on the floor.
‘Oh good, you’ve brought his cage.’
‘It’s a crate not a cage Mother’ says your owner.
‘Well whatever it is, put it in the laundry.’
No you’re both wrong, it’s my personal safe space which I like to have placed somewhere nice.
After making an effort to enthusiastically greet your hosts it’s time to explore. If you smell something nice cooking be sure to head straight for the kitchen to show your appreciation. There will probably be tasty treats left on the edge of the work top for you.
Hosts enjoy the fun of having more than one dog to visit and soon their quiet, boring house will have turned into a happy hub bub, causing much hilarity.
‘Si..monn.. come and get your dogs out of my kitchen NOW.’
I wish I had hung onto that stair gate, it’s worse than having toddlers around… DEREK, De rekkk… can you rescue Aunt Mary’s tapestry cushions and put them in the top of our wardrobe and while you’re up there shut all the doors. Oh my god, what have they brought in from the garden, is it a dead rat? A toy squirrel? When we were children the only toys dogs had were a few sticks and a ball.’
Your host’s garden is bound to be more interesting than yours. They may have a fun paddling pool with real fish, or if they are the sort of humans who decided to have little humans as dog substitutes, there will be balls to chase and swings, slides and climbing frames for you to chase the little humans up. They will love it.
‘Mummmee, he’s bitten my football and bursted it.’
But playtime must come to an end for dinner time. If you are asked to stay in your safe space while they rather rudely eat dinner without you, be patient and stay alert for conversations such as…
‘Yes of course they can have a few leftovers, I’m not surprised they prefer roast chicken to that horrible dry stuff you give them…’
Hurrah, the host is on your side.
‘Balanced nutrition, whatever happened to marrow bone jelly and tins of chum?’
After a lovely roast dinner pop into the kitchen to see if you can help tidy up, but be careful of your manners if the dish washer is open. Strangely some humans don’t like you licking the dishwasher, even when everything inside is nice and clean.
Soon you hear the hopeful words
‘Yes okay, an evening walk in the park to get rid of their energy sounds an excellent idea, you staying here relaxing after your long drive does Not. Your mother and I are not picking up dog poo or running after escaped dogs.’
Everyone’s spirits are high as you run around and explore the local park and make new friends. Your hosts make new friends as well.
‘Oh aren’t they gorgeous, bet they’re a handful, are they yours?’
‘No they certainly are not, just visiting.’
Perhaps your humans will want to catch up with old human friends and pop into the pub on the way back. Lie quietly under the table and hopefully you will get the sort of treats you’re not allowed at home. Patience is required though as humans get so busy talking they forget about you.
‘Has he had the chop then, poor old thing, mind you not a good idea to breed from an ugly mutt like him, ha ha haa. Oh, they’re pedigrees? Here have some hot and spicy BBQ crisps Mr. Pedigree and Miss Pedigree. Not allowed crisps? Oh oh, they’ve wolfed down two packets each.’
Finally don’t forget to protect your humans from danger when visiting all these new places. A good snarl will tell that dog under the next table to stay put. When you finally get back to your hosts’ house check the garden for foxes and cats and send them running.
‘SiMOn, what Are your dogs doing out there, they’ve set off that wretched dog next door barking.’
At last it’s time for a well earned sleep in you safe space, if you can get to sleep with that overpowering scent of washing powder in the laundry.
Fun Friday – Second Summer
TO THE SEA
Times and Tides of a Beachwriter 