Amen to All That: A Story in Four-Letter Words, or Less

By Michael R. Whitcomb

Amen to All That is the final book in a trilogy written using no word longer than four letters in which Jake, with the help from his friends and the wind, makes the most of his opportunity and eventually finds both closure and a happy release from his past.

I feel now, as I felt in the beginning, that in the hands of creative leaders (teachers, tutors, parents, self-motivated teens, etc.), this work has enormous potential in the development of language. For reluctant readers, beginning readers, those learning English as a second language, independent readers looking for something out of the ordinary, trivia buffs, and wordsmiths, there is something here for you all.

Now all I need is for you to prove me right.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 6, 2018
• ISBN: 9781984544254

Michael R. Whitcomb

Michael Whitcomb was born in Brighton, England, during the cold January of 1947. He is proud to call himself a middle child and is equally proud of his English Grammar School education. An unsuccessful art student, he chose to become a career primary school teacher, moving that role to Queensland, Australia, in 1974. He retired there, having taught in schools with student populations ranging from just 4 to over 1,500, but no matter the number, his message was always the same. His students were always encouraged to think, told to be seen to care, and to espouse the value of education ahead of schooling. Today he is living with his third and final wife in Manhattan, New York, where he enjoys discovering the minutiae of this wonderful city.

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Copyright © 2018 by Michael R. Whitcomb.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2018909051

ISBN:               Hardcover               978-1-9845-4427-8

                          Softcover                 978-1-9845-4426-1

                         eBook                        978-1-9845-4425-4

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 08/06/2018

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CONTENTS

DEDICATION

INTRODUCTION

PART ONE

Let them eat cake

PART TWO

Back in the day

PART TWO PLUS ONE

This is our hero

PART FOUR

Beef of the day

PART FIVE

We hear he is a whiz of a wiz…

PART SIX

Jo Jo was a man…

PART SIX PLUS ONE

I told you so! is not part of the deal

PART SIX PLUS TWO

A Big Step Into a New Dawn

PART NINE

No Son of Mine

PART TEN

A is for Andy

PART TEN PLUS ONE

Fate, luck or… what?

PART TEN PLUS TWO

Real men do cry

PART TEN PLUS ONE PLUS TWO

But is it Sue?

PART TEN PLUS FOUR

Deal with Beth, the dog can wait

PART TEN PLUS FIVE

Drag, edit, cut

PART TEN PLUS SIX

I Know What I Saw

PART TEN PLUS SIX PLUS ONE

Lies you tell for your God

PART TEN PLUS SIX PLUS TWO

Sue was mad, but…

PART ONE LESS THAN TWO TENS

On or off, no half way

PART TWO TENS

Move a pawn and it’s game on

PART TEN PLUS TEN PLUS ONE

You win Hans Doon, okay

PART TWO TENS AND TWO

Was that in his book too?

PART TEN PLUS TEN PLUS TWO PLUS ONE

I can’t stop the rain

PART TWO TENS AND TWO TWOS

The idea of the shag list

PART TEN PLUS TEN PLUS FIVE

A kink in the tale

GLOSSARY

DEDICATION

Amen to All That

is dedicated to my

nuclear and extended family members

both living and deceased

without whom

the memories would not

have been made in the first place.

It is also in honour of

the close friends

whom I hold dear: you know who you are.

THANK YOU

THANK YOU

THANK YOU

MRW

INTRODUCTION

I’m through with apologising for the limitations to the reading process that this work may engender. Instead I would exhort patience and experimental use of the text to extend vocabulary and sentence structure and generate creative thinking about language, both written and spoken. I encourage parents, tutors and self-motivating students to use the work as a starting point for numerous conversations about language, but alas, I feel that too many teachers are being deprived of an equal opportunity to do likewise by the shackles imposed by systemic education authorities. It has long been my contention that we should educate children not simply school them.

I have often been asked who the target audience is for this work. The idea began as a ‘workbook’ for busy teachers and in my mind has undergone several morphs since its inception. It would certainly be an effective tool in the hands of creative teachers of English, but in its current format it is geared more to the young adult audience. Sure, the work is well suited for use with reluctant readers and those studying English as a second language in both schools and our homes, but it also occupies a niche for the eclectic or esoteric minded adult. Adult study groups or book clubs may well find that what appears to be a limited scope imposed by using no word longer than four letters is in fact a liberating opportunity to explore aspects of written language, including word choice and sentence structure.

My educational and cultural background began in England and was continued for twice the amount of time in Australia. About five years ago I moved to the United States where I was told that my language, and my writing in particular, contained too many English and Australian idioms, isms, words and phrases and that this proliferation of the unfamiliar made potential American readers uncomfortable. I found that comment to be an admission that America speaks its own version of English, but hastily add that so do Australia, South Africa and pretty much every other country where English is spoken. In fact, there are parts of England where the English that is spoken sounds like a foreign language to outsiders.

So with those differences in mind, a glossary was born. I fought the idea for some time, but came to realise that it had some advantages. It became clear that a glossary could be useful for any audience, not just an American one, and should any reader come across an obscure reference or a word used in an unfamiliar way, then the explanation is already in their hands, literally. A glossary also afforded me the opportunity to give words, even simple, easy to understand ones, my preferred colour. A look at how each word was used in context, and thus the knowledge of its part of speech, may be all that wordsmiths need, but for others, I was able to expand on the meaning.

For example, in this book I have used the following eight words, selected at random from the thousands found on a word count. I have listed them, and added some of the meanings offered by a thesaurus. My preferred colour is in bold.

deep:    intense, profound, gutteral, heart-felt, intellectual, perceptive

bulk:    size, enormity, majority, preponderance, aggregate

void:     emit, cancelled, vacuous, distracted, invalid, vacant

fix:       determine, dilemma, anchor, mend, predicament

bag:      container, apprehend, acquire, problem,

bite:      react, respond, masticate, chomp

sour:    sharp, piquant, petulant, churlish, resentful

warp:   distortion, irregularity, slanted, corruption

I knew as I re-read the story My Mate Mike; the boy who had to fish from the end of the pier that somewhere, I had seen something similar; or was it just that I remembered telling THIS story? And then fate played its hand.

As I was culling some books from my collection early in 2008, I happened upon one I didn’t recall. I opened it and scanned the contents. Entry number three said, The Boy on the Edge of the Pier. The alarm bells started to ring. I turned to the story and read.

My heart sank as I discovered several similarities to this story and my own, as told through the pen of Sue. But then I realized that the similarities could be mere coincidence, although there was a nagging in my head that would not go away.

Memory is a strange phenomenon!

I know I have trained mine to be selective when it comes to some of my past, an idea I shall expand upon later, but I have no conscious memory of having read the book containing that story before. It is possible that one of my students had read it, as it was a resource that I had purchased for the project. It is equally possible that once read, the gist of it was then rewritten as an original work. If this did happen, it did so over 20 years ago, and I was not aware. I have no way of knowing that, or of proving or disproving that theory.

To play safe, as I am not of a mind to cancel the idea, I decided to note the book before I culled it from my collection in readiness for a move. The book was A Modern Fable by Jim Schembri [Angus & Robertson 1995] and prior to the cull, I sat and flipped through it.

I was impressed. I was also surprised that in the event of one of my students telling an idea in their own words, then within the peer group, some of the other stories had not been used too. I speak in particular of those entitled The Old Tree, The Last Blip, The Man Who Let It Rain, A Day At The Zoo and What The Gnu Knew. I wish I had thought of all of them as ideas to expound, but I didn’t, and nor, it would seem, did my students. So the dilemma continues. I hope that I have done enough to eliminate any lingering thoughts of plagiarism, for, after all, plagiarism has to be deliberate; or am I wrong?

This thought was then extended to other students who wrote stories for me over the years. How many of those ideas did I subconsciously use when it came time to write my story? Again I have no way of telling as I don’t have copies of their stories, good, bad or indifferent, but particularly the good ones; only fragmented memories.

Did I lodge some of those memories in my sub conscious?

Have some of them surfaced?

Do I need to acknowledge, always assuming it is possible, their part in those ideas?

Well, I feel that I have now – in a way – done so, but that does not stop me from feeling somewhat confused.

At this point it has to be admitted that parts of Amen To All That are loosely autobiographical. I have tried to hide the identities of family, friends and associates by changing their names, their relationships and their time-frames. The casual reader will not know any of the characters anyway, real or imaginery, however, close relationships may be identified by those involved. Anticipating such, I deliberately made certain characters do things that are known to have been done by others. The disguise may be paper-thin, but it is a disguise, and unless you are one of the few to have lived these times with me, it should work. In the event that it doesn’t, here’s hoping that like me, you are not so ashamed of your past as to be embarrassed by it. Should anyone be thus embarrassed, I apologise in advance, for that was not my intention.

It is possible that I have remembered events in the wrong order and with facts distorted by the passage of time and my selective memory. If this is true it is only the same handful of people who will know the discrepancies and as this is a work of fiction, what does that really matter. Oh, it matters that a few dear friends may be slightly miffed by what they read, but the changing of the facts to suit my fictionalised version of history should be of no concern to anyone.

Finally, I would like to address the notion of THOSE four lettered words.

I made the decision from the outset – now almost 20 years ago – that as this was a work intended for children, those words had no place here. As the stories progressed, that idea never changed, and I stand by that decision. Sure, there are passages that may sound more authentic with a liberal smattering of sexual and body-part names rather than euphemisms, but such is the collateral damage of setting a standard and sticking to it. The only obvious deviation was when Jake lost Sue (in book one) and was asked if he would now concentrate on his book. Away from the obvious emotion of that incident, words that are becoming more and more common, if not actually acceptable in mainstream literature and popular culture, are, in my book anyway, not to be found.

With that in mind I wish you joy in your journey, and next time I venture to put pen to paper as it were, I promise to use the full extent of my vocabulary and not to limit myself to words no longer than four letters.

Ten Q for… sorry, I mean thank you for your support, and as Dave Allen used to say, May your God go with you.

M R Whitcomb

Manhattan, NYC

July 2018

PART ONE

Let them eat cake

The seed had been sown a long time ago and like so many of us, Jake knew that he had in him, a book. His book had been well on the way when Sue died and he had not been able to do much with the idea from that day to this. Well, that is what he said, but for the most part, the ones who were with him at the time knew that he just put it off. Had Sue been by his side, it may not have been that way, but she was not, and he used a set of cop-outs in line with ‘what if’ and ‘if only’, and all in her name.

Then he came home and met Andy.

Andy is the son of Paul and Jane, who had, with Sue and Jake, once been good as a four but weak as a set of ones. With Sue gone, Jake ran away and had only just come back. When he told Andy that he’d help him find his past and make it come true, he had no idea how to do that. In fact, he felt that with Andy on his side, he’d find out more of what made him tick than he’d ever find with or for the lad.

That was his mind set when they met the next day. Andy had no idea how this may work, but felt that it was sure to fail.

They were on the same page when it came to a look at the past. They both felt that film was the best way to see it, and yet they had none.

That fact did not stop them.

Look, said Andy. Close your eyes. What do you see as you fade to grey…?

I see grey… oh, I see what you mean. Good call.

Ta! But what do you see? Tell me.

Jake told him that he saw two boys who met when they came upon a note on a post.

Good, Andy said. Now fade out and slow fade back in to some time the next week. Can you do that?

Sure.

And…?

I see the same boys, each with a girl who they had been led to by that note. Time was when I knew all four of them.

Stay in the then. Tell me more.

Like what? I need to fine tune this idea. Let me see now. No, that is too hard to face just now, but I can go back. Oh, I can tell you this… if I can just turn that dial and… ah, yes. We had all been to the mall. When I got home that day, my mum was in a bad way and I took an oath to end the way my step dad took his bad mood out on his wife. In a way, I kept my word, but it took time.

This was a fine game for Jake to play. In a way he was too good at it. From one day to the next week he’d fade to grey then fade back in. Andy got lost

Fade up… You two make a good team Sue had told Paul and Jane one day. Then she said to me, I want you on my team. I like you by my side, okay. And you can hold my hand… She sang most of that and held ‘hand’ for a beat of six or more. I must fade out now or we may be here for a long time. The real Fab Four can grab you like that you know.

Andy gave up and let Jake rant.

"Sue had been on a high as she went home that day, but it all fell down on her as soon as she got to her door. Her dad was sick. Alas he died the next week and the four of us went to his wake. I came into my own here as a bush poet, but it was not just my yarn that was the root of a near riot. Jane and her mum saw to that and your dad and I took up the game too. It came to an end with, ‘It woz ’im m’lud! He done it. Off with his head!’ Then, in the free for all that came next, all tact was lost. In the heat of the game we were able to turn the rite into a riot. That only came to a dead stop when Mrs Gray saw, amid many oohs and ahhs, that we had made a hit not only with the clan, but also with Sue’s mum and her kind. All eyes bore down on us and they were not all fond eyes I can tell you. Mrs Gray was put on the spot, but it was my Sue who came to bail her out. ‘That was fun by the look of it.’ Sue had said from the edge of the ring. ‘Can I join in?’ Her mum saw red and told Sue off. ‘A wake is not for that kind of…’ but she did not get the last word out. Sue had her own idea of what a wake was for, and she held back a tear as she said, ‘This is… well… my dad… he’d want it to be like this. Life goes on. In his name, let life be fun.’ Her Aunt Win was on her side. Zoom in on her and see her big blue felt hat. Now zoom out and fade to a very dark grey as we don’t need to see the rest of that day. Well, I don’t! So fade with a time warp!When her dad died, Sue got to know her Aunt Win very well as she saw more of her than she did her own mum or even me. So I got on with my book and Paul and Jane got on with life. The four of us did meet, but less and less. Fade out and back in to the time when I lost my step dad in a hit and run. Fade to Aunt Win in Bali and on the edge of the bomb that, well, we know what a bomb is for, and this one did its job all too well. Sue was at a loss as to how to deal with the news, and as we were to find out, that was not all that was on her mind.

Fade in to the last time the four of us met. Your mum and dad had just told a yarn and Sue told me that I was not the only bush poet in the room. ‘Be told!’ she said in jest and we had a hug. Then we all had a hug, but for Sue it was the last hug of her life."

Are you sure you want to tell me this? Andy said. We can skip this part if you’d like.

No, Andy. I’ve come this far. I must do it. I feel good. It’s time.

Andy gave him a nod, and and a curt, Ok then.

So, as the four of us came up for air it was your dad who had his mind on the time, and he said so. He was told not to be such a cold fish and to make the best of his luck, but Jane knew his tone and she came up for air too. When she saw the time she told us that we had to go, and now. But we were slow, so she left us in the shed to fend the best way we knew how, as she had to meet her mum in town. All was well. But then Sue said, and I play this in my head over and over, she said, ‘Well up her!’. It was not like Sue to say that, so your dad and I gave her a look. ‘What?’ she had said. ‘Can’t I have an off day from time to time? Must I be nice all the time? Oh, piss off the pair of you!’ and she gave the door a slam on her way out. I saw your dad make for the door as if to stop her, but I told him to let her go. Yes, I told him to let her go!

Andy saw that the man to his left was in what he knew as ‘the zone’, so he let him go on at his own pace.

I told him to stay with me, and that, as we don’t know the half of it, to just let her go. I told him that I’d call her when she got it out of the way. As my dad said more than once, ‘It’s best to let it all hang out than to keep it all in’. So, we let her have her cry, and… well, that was the last time I saw her. I left Paul in the café and went home. I did not call in on my way.

Pity. said Andy, but Jake was so far into the film mode that he did not hear.

Fade out, and cut. That is a wrap! But you see, that was the last time I saw Sue. She was so low, she went and put a gun to her head and… well, she died. I felt that if only I had gone to her and not with Paul to that damn café, then she just may not have done it. But as I got told then, and many a time in the days to come, you can not play the ‘what if’ game, even if I did, as that was not the way it was.

And you play it, even now don’t you?

Well, don’t you? Don’t we all? No, let it go. Let me end this. When we had put Sue to rest, I was, in time, the best man for Paul when he wed your mum, but with this done, I soon went away. Some say that I ran, I don’t know! I had a tour of duty in the army, went to dig opal, took time out on a rig to pump oil and then had a trek in the Old Dart with some guys I met in Hove.

I know this. I read your log.

Then you may know that this trek was in many ways the best idea I ever had. Lara, who you know from my log, had a door to more than just this life and it was she who made me come home and face Paul and Jane who by this time had, well, you. And it was Sue who made you her heir, and thus very rich, as you well know.

As they were now up to date, Jake said that it was his turn to hear more of the life Andy had led so far. And just tell me, he said. You don’t need to fade in and out or zoom or blur and turn soft or…

Andy was on the same page and took no time to get down to it. He told Jake, face to face, how he felt, what he had seen, who he had met and of the love he had for not only his mum and dad but also a man they call Jake who had just come into his life and how he had a plan to use the cash that Sue gave him.

Wow! Jake said as Andy came to a halt. You sure know how to bare your soul don’t you. You are a good lad Andy. I’m sure we will get on just fine.

Well, that was day one. By day five, it may have been day ten, or even more, they felt that it was time for the book. By that time even Andy knew that Jake was not able to make his past come true, even if it had been a good idea.

Look, Andy said that day. You do want to do this book and get it out in the open, don’t you? I mean, this is not some pie in the sky idea to shut Mr Andy up for a week or so is it? When it’s done, you will try to sign some sort of a deal to sell it won’t you?

Sure. And I’ll go on a tour and set up a chat room. What else do you want me to do?

Oh, don’t be like that. Look, I don’t want you to sign a deal you can’t get out of if it goes bad, but at the same time, I don’t want you to wait for that mega deal and all the hype that goes with it. I feel that you may be one of the guys who will just sit back and wait for luck to sell his book for him. But you can’t do that! Look, I know it’s not the same, but back in his day Zane Grey put the wild west on the map. Leon Uris did much the same for a war or two, but they did it. I don’t know what they did, or how they did it, but I’m sure it was not to just sit and wait. Nor did Moss Hart who knew that you can’t take it with you. Look, you don’t have to have the IQ of Joe Ide or be a Vine star like Zach King, but you do have to put your mark on…

Okay, okay! I get the idea!

But do you? You will need to plug your work, push it out so that folk will not only know of your book but also will want to read it.

I know all that.

Sure you know, but will you act on it? Look, I don’t in fact care if they don’t want to read it, I’d just like for them to buy it!

I know, I know. I want that too. I do! But all in good time. We can’t put the cart be…

We can, if you want to. But I see that you don’t. So let’s find that big pony, he said as he got down to the job. Look, you had a good whim or two when you lost Sue, and…

How do you know what I had back then?

Well, you did drop a hint or two in the log of your trek, and some I have seen. You sent them or gave them to my dad and he let me read one or two, but then you came back and now, I have to ask you if I can read the rest. So can I?

Can you what?

Can I read the rest of them?

Sure. I’d like to see them too; it’s been a long time, and it is a pity that the best of it all is lost.

Lost? What do you mean lost? You sent them to dad and he won’t get rid of …

No, you see, I had a lot of the book done. We were all on a high for a week or two once we had seen Sue’s dad off, and I put a lot of time into some very good work. But it’s all gone!

Gone? But I don’t …

No, nor does your dad. You see, when Sue left us, I took all that I had, tore it up and set fire to it. Was I glad to see it burn? You bet I was!

But…

But what? They were mine!

Yes, I know. But…

And don’t ask why I did it or what it was. Not now; it was all too long ago… and yet… at the same time… only last week.

So how come my mum and dad have some of your work?

I don’t know. I must have sent it to them… and I hear that Sue’s mum gave them some too. Is that true? I can’t wait to see what they have.

As far as I know, yes, but I… I mean, but you… I mean, don’t you have any idea of what you sent to dad, or what may be said in the bits Sue’s mum had kept, or, come to that, in what you set on fire?

No!

Not even a clue as to why my dad won’t eat cake, Andy said with a grin.

How do you know …?

Dad told me.

Oh?

Don’t go, ‘oh!’ like that. All he said was that for a time he had to try to live down the idea that you and he ate all the cake at that wake. Did you?

Well, your dad ate most of it, but yes.

For real?

Well, he will deny it, as I’m sure you know. But, yes, I was full of crab by the time the ‘chat’ was over and the cake came out and so if it went, as I’m sure it did, then Paul was the one who ate it.

I’ll ask him when he gets in. But what do you mean by ‘as I’m sure it did’? Don’t you know?

Ask your dad. I’ll say no more. When he has had his say, you may not need to ask that of me, okay, Mr Andy?

Andy was not okay with it, but he saw that Jake was like his dad, so that was it. The lid was shut on the idea, and for now, the key had been lost.

They had to wait for Paul to come home as only he had that key.

He was also the only one who knew how to find the box that held so much of the past, and he had the key to that, too. He knew this, and he made them wait as he had a wash and a bite to eat. Then he went to find the box, but made no move to open it. At long last, with a wine in hand, he put the key on top of the box and sat back.

Well, here it is, he said. Who’d like to open it?

But with the box out in the open, none of them was in a rush. They all knew that what was in the box had some kind of grip over each of them, and that to open it was to ruin any self-made myth they may yet hold dear. More so with Jake in the room with them.

Paul left it to Jake, for as he said, It was you who held the pen and you who put…

Jake left it to Paul. Well, he said. I gave much of it to you, so you now own it.

Jane was too on edge to care, so it was left to Andy. He gave the key a turn, blew away some dust that was not on the lid but in his head, and then, just as he went to lift the lid he said to his dad, Will I find any cake in here, or an idea that put you and Jake into our folk lore?

Paul was hard to faze, but this set him on the back foot. That was a long time ago, he said. And even if Jake had left any, I’d say the mice will have had it by now, so, no! No?

Left any? Jake had gone very red. You were the one who… look, Andy, what has this got to do with what is in that box? Why don’t you just open it and move on?

But will I find any cake?

No! Both his dad and Jake were as one; fast and loud! Even Jane saw!

Not even a jot? Andy said.

No! Not an iota, Jake said.

And how do you know that? Jane said. You have been away for a long time. You don’t know what Paul may or may not have put in that box, so how can you be so sure?

Okay, you can ask. That is fair. Look, I know what I know. I sent Paul some mail, sure, but none of it told of the cake, not a word.

So how do you know that I have not put my side of that yarn in the box, with a bit of cake, just in case?

In case what?

Well, said Paul, now very much on edge, in case you tell it your way.

But I went away and I may have been dead for all you knew.

So I may have put it in as a memo…

No way! You don’t do that.

True!

And only an hour or so ago Jake told me that he had no idea what was in the box and he’d be glad to find out, Andy said just to add to the mix. So come on you two, is this a game or a plot or what?

Yes, come on guys, tell us, said Jane. Or do you want me to tell Andy my tale?

What? said Paul and Jake at the same time.

You have a tale? Paul went on.

A cake tale? Jake said. OUR cake tale?

Your cake tale, Jane spat. I like that! That is no more your tale than it is Sue’s.

and as she said her name a gust of wind came to Andy as Yess…esss!

Look, Jane said, a calm now in her tone. I know it was a very long time ago but I can hear what Sue told me like it was only last week. Her yarn made for a good tale I can tell you. Do you want to hear it? Do you? Well?

Just then, the wind came back. This time Andy felt that it said, Noo…oooo!. He was not sure. But he was sure that he was the only one to spot this, and he let it go as he did not wish to be seen as a fool.

Do you? Well? Jane said anew.

I’m very well, yes, Jake said. But I told Mr Andy that his dad knew the true tale and that all he had to do was ask and he’d be told. So, Paul, it’s over to you.

Well, well, the old Jake is here with the new one. Good, but why drop me in it? I know all’s fair in love and war and all that, but …

And golf!

What?

All’s fair in love, war and golf; you must know that, no?

Sure, I know that. It’s also true of polo, but I don’t add that to the list. Now, hush up and let me tell my tale, or I may not tell it at all.

And we can’t have that can we, Andy said. Now, Mr Jake, do as you are told for once in your life; hush up and let dad have his say.

Okay, Mr Andy. Paul, we are all ears.

You are too kind! And what is it with this Mr Jake and Mr Andy rot? I know Andy said it as a joke once, but I had no idea that you had gone on with it. Can you stop? Oh, look, I know it’s down to you guys, but it does gnaw away at me.

Yes, but you fret over the ads on TV, his wife said with a hint of a barb, so you’d make a fuss over it even if it left you cold, just to rile a mate. You know, from time to time I don’t even know if you know what is real and what is not, so if Mr Andy is his name, then so be it, and you will just have to lump it. Now, go on with the tale or it will be time for me to take my sore head to bed, and I don’t want to miss what he has to say, and I want to know if it’s the same tale that Sue told me.

Paul, who did not hear the wind blow, had not seen his wife in this mood for a long time and he put it down to the fact that Jake was here; that or the wine, or that she, like all of them, was sad that Sue was not, and she had to make up for it. They say you hurt the one you love at a time like that, so he gave her a hug and said a word or two in her ear that only she was able to hear. Okay guys, I take back what I said. If you want to be Mr, I don’t care. No, I don’t. And it’s not the core of what you all want to hear is it, so let me get my yarn out of the way. As I call it to mind, it had been a good day. It was sad as we were met to pay our dues and to help Sue stay sane, but it was also a day to wine and dine and have some fun. Sue and her Aunt Win took care of that, but her mum was not so keen. So, when it came down to it, Jake and I were in line to cut the cake and then hand it out. Mrs Nash left us to it. All was fine: but then my tie had a part to play.

Who wore the tie?

Eh? Oh, we both had ties on. Mine was not as loud as the one you wore, but I was in a tie too you know, and it was my tie that lent us the hand that we did not want.

Paul told a good yarn, and was just as good as Jake when in the mood, and here he was in that mood. He took a peek at the look on his son’s face and knew he had him, as they say, in the palm of his hand.

He took a look at his wife, and her eyes told him to get on with it.

He gave Jake a wink and took the hint.

Ah, the tie, he said. My tie! I only had the one back then and when you don’t wear one a lot of the time, a tie can get in your way. And it did!

Did it ever, said Jake, just to echo the idea and back Paul up.

Now, I don’t know why, but Jake saw fit to move the cake. And don’t say a word, this is my yarn. You can tell your side if you wish, but for now, this is mine, so stay out, okay!

Sure, but …, Jane put a hand on his arm as much as to say, ‘Just let him be, we’ll get our turn, if we want one. When he’s done, okay.’ And yes, one hand on an arm can say that much if you both want it to!

To move the cake he had to lift it from its base and then put it down. What he did not see and I did not know was that he had put it on the end of my tie. We cut a slab or two and the plan was to… Don’t look at me like that son; we cut the cake not my tie, okay? So, as I said, we cut a slab or two and the plan was to then cut each slab and dole it out as we met a need. Jake was to see to Sue’s folk and I was to wait on the rest, and we were to meet back at the main cake for a top up. Well, as I said, that was the plan. Jake took off with his slab in a dish, to act out his part. He had only just gone when I saw that I had to lean over to get a dish for my slab of cake. As I did so I felt my tie pull on the side of my neck, but I did not stop. To this day I wish that I had! You can see it can’t you. As I lean, I pull my tie. As I pull on my tie, so I move the cake. As I zero in on the dish I don’t see the cake move and when I do it’s all too late to stop it from its dive onto the lino. It was a good dive too, with a back flip and a half turn with pike. It took for ever to land, and let me tell you that if time has ever been more slow, I have not seen it. But land it did, in the end, with a dull thud, next to my jaw!

Your jaw? Oh, I see, and Andy did!

Well, what was I to do? I put the dish down and laid my slab of cake into it. That was the easy part. But what was I to do with the rest of the cake? Pick it up and put it back? No! Pick at it and save what I… no that was just as bad, he said as he saw Jane part her lips to have her say. So I had to get rid of I. But how? I was on my own with cake down one leg and both in and on my shoe. I’d deal with that soon, but I had to move the cake, and fast! Then I saw a way out. A bin with a flip lid sat near the wall. I bent down and took half the cake, some in each hand, and at the same time was able to pop open the top of the bin with my foot. It was the best slam dunk of my life. I went for more cake but this time one hand only went into the bin and one hand sent the cake, or what was left of it, out the door for any bird to peck at. A deft kick or two at the lump that was left made it look like a mere drop cake… at this he had to wait for the moan to stop, as it did, … I took a rag from the sink, gave my leg a rub and my shoe a wipe, took the dish in hand and left, just as Jake came back for more cake. I’d love to have seen his face when he saw that none was left, but it was not to be. I did hear the howl from Mrs Nash when she went in to find out why Jake had not come back with more cake. She saw no cake on its base, some near his feet and Jake with cake all over his face. ‘What have you done with the rest my cake you bad, sad boy?’ she said. Poor Jake! He was all at sea so said what came into his head. ‘I ate it!’ he said. ‘What all of it? You can’t have!’ Mrs Nash went on a cake hunt. ‘But I did; look,’ Jake said to her. ‘I ate it. See, you can’t find any can you, so, I mean, if I lied, what else did I do with it? And on top of all else, they say that you can’t have your cake and eat it too, don’t they. So, I don’t have any cake… do you see what I mean?’ He was as lost as his host on the idea of what else he had done with it. By that time I had done my good deed, and like Jake, had gone back for more cake.

But you knew it had all gone! Andy said. Oh, I see. You had to fake it or be seen as a bad guy too.

Paul gave a wry grin. You have it to a T son.

This way Jake is the scab.

Once more, son, you are spot on. Oh, I felt bad at the time, but only for… well, less than half an hour. You see, when word got out that the cake was gone and that one boy, with no help from his best mate or his girl or his mum …

Hey, my mum was at work! She had no…

"Yes I know. I put that in just to pad the tale and add to the saga, you know, keep you on the edge of your seat and to give it some bite.

Pity, said Andy. No cake to bite on, so you make it up.

True, and to make one up is not the same as to put one on, is it?

No, said Andy. In this day and age you only put the byte on your lap top!

Will you two stop that, Jane said. Let Paul get to the end of his yarn, and then we can hear from Jake, or even Sue, okay?

Andy gave her a nod as the wind made him turn to look at the door.

Well, Paul took up his side of the tale, when word got out that just the one boy ate the cake, all of it, in toto and with no help, he was seen as less of a pig or an Iago…

Or an Yzma? I’d like to be an Yzma… or a Shan Yu, Jake said. Alas, it was so soft that Paul did not hear him.

But Andy did and he said, A Shan Yu? Oh come on! I can see you as the Big Bad Wolf, but the rest? No, I’ll go with my dad and vote for Iago, but with all this talk of pigs and food, I’m sure the Big Bad Wolf is the best name for you.

No! said Paul. He was none of them, and don’t you huff and puff like that my boy! You see, in no time at all he was seen as a hero. I mean what a feat! Lots of boys can eat like pigs, and had they had eyes on us when we ate that bowl of crab as Sue told us how much she’d miss her dad… well… if the cap fits and all that… but then that is not part of this is it. To eat a cake of that size… and it grew by the hour… so in next to no time… and with no help… well… by the time we met back at the tree for the next part of his ‘Kim’s Game’, Jake had a cult fan club. He did well to tell us, that day, who won the race and how Kim got the dog and the baby back to type.

Jake gave him a nod and a wave.

No it’s true. With so much else on his mind, he did very well. And he had no idea at all what I had done with the cake and if in fact I was due the pats on the back that they gave him. I saw him burn and I let him. I only put the fire out the next time I saw him.

True, but this is the …

Yes I know.

Well I don’t! Jane said, glad she had not gone to bed.

Nor I, said Andy, but then I don’t know much from that era do I?

So will I tell them or will you? Paul said, as he knew just how keen Jake was to get in on the act.

Do you mind?

Go for it.

Ta! Well, he’s on the ball with that last bit! I was very hung up on the cake and when we met the next week, he told me that he had been very busy and that he had in fact been able to dish it all up to the folk out on the lawn. I told him that that had to be a load of bull as he had not had the time to do all he said he had done, but he did not sway and in the end I had to take his word for it. I knew he had not…

And I knew that he knew, Paul said with an evil grin.

So what was the big deal? I can’t see why you did not just tell him, Jane said, but she gave Paul a huge hug just the same.

It was our game, Paul said. And no, we took care not to air this game when we were with you and Sue. It was just Jake and me and the gate post.

You can take a shot in the dark if you like, cut in Jake, but you won’t have a clue as to how hard I made him work just to be true to his word. He was good, and all the time it was the same. He gave it away!

No I did not! I’ve only just done that. It took a long time for me to give the game away. Up to then, I mean, now, all I have done is give away the cake. So, now that our game is up, do you want to tell your side?

No! I can’t top that, not that I have to. But now that we know why Andy won’t find any cake in the box, I’d say it was time for him to open it.

Both Paul and Jane gave him a nod.

Andy took his time. He gave the key a turn but all this did was lock the box. He gave the lid a wipe with his hand and left a skid mark in the dust. As he gave the key one last turn Jake said, Are you sure you don’t want to tap it with your wand and then open it?

Andy shut his eyes and said, Now how did you know what was on my mind?

I did? Then it was pure luck.

No, that was not it. It can’t be. Sue’s here. She must have told you.

If that is what you want, then yes, Sue told me. Jake gave Paul and Jane a sign as much as to say ‘Come on back me up here guys,’ but they did not need the hint.

Jane put her hand on her son’s and as she gave it a pat she said, Yes dear. It must have been Sue.

Paul was less sure, but he said, Well, how else… so, wand or no wand will you open the box?

PART TWO

Back in the day

No, I’ll take the cash and run, ta!

When Paul went to grab the box from him, Andy took it away and gave the lid a flip. Out fell the wad of mail, once more tied with a neat, pale pink bow. On top of the mail fell the file and a note book and a post card or two that Jake knew he had sent from York, Bath and St Ives; well he felt they were from his trek as they did not look as old as the rest.

He took hold of one end of the bow and with just one tug it came away in his hand. He took hold of the top item and as he read he said, This is Sue’s poem. You kept it all this time…

We did, but not for us. We kept it for you. That is what you said to do, isn’t it? Jane said, not sure that it was.

But Andy was. Mum, don’t be like that. You know as well as I do that Jake told you to hang on to all of this – you did you know, he said. Then, to Jake. Look!

Andy took up the note that came with the poem and gave it to Jake. Read the next to last line, he said. … I will be back for my poem, so keep it safe for me.

Did I say that? It was so long ago I don’t…

Yes you do. You just did not, even with an open mind, buy the fact that it was ever go…

Andy! his dad was sore.

No, Jake said with his head down. He’s hit the nail on the head. Life is more than a poem from the past, even with a note from the same era. I have done so much with my time, it was only fair to feel that you had done the same and that if it had all got lost, then that was how it had to be.

You don’t have a clue do you, Jane said. We four were it! We had a bond that was very rare. When Sue died it was like I had lost an arm, and then when you ran away, I mean, went away…

No, I did! I ran away, and left you to pick up what was left.

That you did, and we did not find much for a long time. Then Mrs Nash sent us some mail and we knew that hope was not lost.

Not lost, just gone; gone a long way away and gone for a long time, Paul said. But what Jane says is true. When you left, part of me went with you. Then we got the poem and a few odds and sods from Sue’s mum, and, well, I got on with my life, but you were not far from my mind most of the time. I just knew you’d come back. I did not know when, but I knew. And then we got your card, and… well, here you are and you know the rest.

Well, Jake said with a grin. I had to come back even if it was just to say ‘hwyl’ or ‘zai hui’ if you know what I mean.

Oh, I know what you mean, Jane said. But you did not come back just to say that! And if you did I’d weep at the very idea.

And did you weep?

Not this time, no! But I will if you don’t tell this pair what you said; or do you want me to do it?

Oops!

Look at that will you, Andy said to his dad. He came back from the dead just to say ‘oops’!

Mmm, so I hear. Now, what sort of fool will do that?

Not this sort of fool, said Jake. I had to come back for much more than that!

No, not his kind of fool, Jane said. He said that that was not why he came back. He did not wait all that time, I hope, she said with the same type of grin as Jake had set on his dial, to then come all this way just to say ‘ciao’, did you?

Amid a moan from Andy and an ‘Is that all?’ from Paul, Jake said, No, in the end I had to come back to a mate… or two… He had to add the ‘or two’ when he saw the look he got from Jane. So, no! In the end I had to came back to you, say ‘Bon dia. Con ta bai?’ and to see if your best laid plan for this life had come true.

G’day to you too, Andy said. And don’t look at me like that. It’s easy. Bon is good, yes? And dia is day. So ‘bon dia’ says good day. Don’t ask me what ‘Con ta bai’ says. I don’t know.

But you can work it out if I tell you that, had you said it to me, I’d say, ‘Mi ta bon.’

Andy gave a grin. "Okay. ‘Mi’ is what it says, me, thus, I. ‘Bon’… good or… fine or well, so ‘ta’ is a link to ‘I well’ so it has to be a verb. ‘Am’ fits best, so it’s from the verb ‘to be’, thus, ‘Mi ta bon’ is the same as I’m well. Ergo, ‘Con ta bai’ is the same as ‘How are you?’.