Geoff's entry for comp #2

[Geoff_N]

Dummies' Guide to Saving Lives

[/b]

by Geoff Nelder


Whoa! My stomach lurched left while the rest of me grabbed the handrail. This bridge was so sensitive, resonance waving through it, reacting to its trespasser.

Wires suspended the bridge over a black river, treacherous from the wettest ever February.

Rushing to catch an overnight train, I didn't have time to be in awe of the deeps. Anyway it wouldn't look much different to the thousand times I've let my eyes fall to the swirling currents. A catena of light bulbs swaying from steel supports pushed some of the dark away but, even so, I almost missed the man sitting astride the parapet.

If he hadn't seen me I could have sneaked by. He was a big brute with one of those short but untidy black beards. He was on the parapet at night for only one reason and it wasn't to retouch the paintwork. Was I up to talking someone down? Was it right to dissuade someone from taking their own life when all they had left was the grim reality of what they were escaping?

But suppose you could change their perspective from what seemed an intractable situation to one with hope, no matter how slender?

Decisions.

In the darkness, I could have crept along unnoticed. But suppose I heard a cry, even of release followed by a splash? Would I be able to rid myself of recriminating nightmares?

"Excuse me, can I be of help?"

"Sod off."

Well, that told me. I could justify gripping my small suitcase tighter and leave him to it.

"Want a push?" I risked letting a wicked streak escape me.

"You what?" he said, daring me to repeat.

"No, really, is there anything I can do? I'm not in the Samaritans or anything but it can't be so bad, surely?" I have wondered what I would do if everything went wrong for me. What's the worst that could happen? A fatal disease from which you'd lose your faculties before a long and lingering demise; your wife dead or making a dash to freedom with your best friend; lose your job; get found out in some indiscretion; your children - no don't go down that one. For any of those I could understand people running away, taking a bagful of money and starting a new life in Canada, but not this. For one thing I had never learned to swim. Oh, he wants to drown doesn't he?

"Nobody can't do nothing."

"What's your name?" As if I knew what I was doing.

"What's it to you?" he grumbled, manoeuvring his right leg to accompany the other dangling over the river.

Involuntarily, I moved forward, fearful of an imminent leap. Part of me wanted to be ignorant but a larger part felt committed now that a dialogue had opened.

"I've been there, you know," I lied. "On the brink; thought it was the only way, but I'm glad I didn't."

"Glad you didn't what?"

"Jump, of course," I said. He was beginning to annoy me.

"I'm not going to jump."

What's this? Have I misjudged the whole situation? Maybe he was fishing or a hydrology engineer measuring water speed over a twenty-four hour period. I sidled to the parapet but couldn't see any line.

"I'm going to use this," he said pulling out a vicious gleaming short sword. It had a wavy sharp edge from hours of honing. "It's a Kodachi and I'm a master in Jujutsu. One thrust then gravity and the river God, Kappa, will take me as an eternal servant."

"I see." And I did.

"You can't stop me or join me."

"Really," I said. As if. "I suppose I wouldn't qualify."

"Too right," he said, holding both arms out, rock steady, with the metal point - reflecting amber light from a lamppost - at his throat.

I felt compelled to do something.

"It would be good to tell people your name. Just for the record."

"Ian Bryden." Glaring eyes dared me to deny his identity. But it was vaguely familiar; an unsettling jangle of synapses in my faulty memory, but I would have to deal with it later.

"Oliver Galt." I held out my hand. What was I doing? My mouth to hand was on automatic but brain signals intercepted and caused a retraction. "I... did some Yoga a little while ago."

"Umph. There's nothing like a little blood letting," he said. "How could she? Why do women mess me up?"

Ah, now we had it.

"Well, there's the wrinkle," I observed, making things ten times no better. "Your woman has left you for another man?"

"Not exactly - she won't leave him."

"Tricky, Have you tried luring her with the usual: chocolate, roses, Chanel, rampant sex and a promise of a better life?"

"Yeah, yeah. Though not in that order. Jess is a fine but difficult woman."

"It must be in the name," I said, thinking of my wife Jessica and how baffling she and most women were to me.

"What's it to you, anyway?" Bryden repeated, returning to his sword.

"You know what they say about pebbles on the beach, fish in the sea and all that?"

"You having a laugh?" he growled.

"No, not at all. Er... maybe she wasn't the one for you even though she seemed to be." I clutched at straws. I glanced at my watch reminding myself I was cutting it fine to catch the last train.

"Jess had a smile just for me," he said.

"Really?"

"Yeah, an incredibly cute dimple but just on one side of her mouth," he added.

"That's strange so has my..."

"And she had this way with her tongue when we kissed. Not deep throat. No, just darting in and out, in and..." He continued, while my brain struggled.

"Say, Ian..." I had to interrogate so carefully. "Where did you meet Jess?"

"Then her hair ...lemongrass... oh Jess." He was in pain. "In her bedroom."

"Lemongrass?" Didn't I buy Jessica a lemongrass shampoo last Christmas? I couldn't remember. "Bedroom?" I stared at him in error.

"Yeah," he said, grabbing hold of my collar with his sword-free hand. "I fitted your carpet."

I couldn't focus: thoughts or vision. It seemed my Jessica had a fling with this kamikaze brute for some reason that wouldn't come to me. Maybe her hormones kicked in afternoons or whenever Bryden called, and switched off again when I arrived. Ugh. Surely she couldn't find him remotely alluring? Surely? The waltzing of ideas stopped my brain engaging the need to get away. My right hand still grasped my overnight suitcase with my left holding tenaciously onto his sword arm. With a twisting wrench I found myself with my back on the narrow parapet. I could sense the highly-strung bridge sway.

"Goodbye, Galt," he said, his ghastly grin revealing incompetent dentistry.

Incredibly, I toppled over. This couldn't be happening. I had a train to catch. But it was happening and I left the parapet above me. My coat flapped and the case, still in my hand, lifted with the air-resistance. If only it was a golfing umbrella then at least I wouldn't hit the water so fast. Not that the velocity mattered unless the river was shallow. I seemed to take an age. I expected my life to flash by my eyes but it wouldn't. Pity. Up to now I'd had a good life, except for Jess's strange asexual behaviour recently and my inability to swim. I could still see teeth glinting in the dark shape above. I heard the train pulling in. Jessica... Jess knew I couldn't swim. Did she arrange this? Can't be long no...

The End

[canadian]

Well, hello my lovely Geoff. 

Great story.

[Walker]

I'll second that. Great story Geoff, cool twist.

[SallyQ]

Hi Geoff
Another familiar face, and a great story with a neat twist!

Sally

[Ed]

Sheesh ... ouch!   Great story, Geoff  

[Troglodyte]

Geoff, I echo all the previous comments, good stuff. I like the way that you've left the final conclusions up to the reader, making them think. That's one of the benefits of the short story, drawing the reader in, and then leaving them to make up their own minds.

[Geoff_N]

Thanks for the comments everyone.
It was rejected by a posh literary mag in the UK, because of the macabre content. I think the ed had a recent humour bypass.

I was ready with the sticking plasters after your lacerations - I'll hang on to it for a while.

I must read your entries - busy busy.

Geoff

[Neuromancer]

I love reading, but fail in all other aspects, a "dialougue" based story.

Well written, and though I did not see that the were talking about hte same woman till after the Jess comment, it did not hit me as a surprise ending.  I could be jaded, or just under caffiennated

Still a good read, thanks for posting it!!

[Ant]

Nice one, Geoff. I could see this on tv, being narrated like they used to in the detective series with Stacey Keach. Can't for the life of me think what it was called.

Ant

[Ed]

Nice one, Geoff. I could see this on tv, being narrated like they used to in the detective series with Stacey Keach. Can't for the life of me think what it was called.

Ant

Was it 'Malone' or 'Marlowe', or something like that?  I know what you mean though, and I agree

[SallyQ]

Mickey Spillane? Or was that the writer?

Sally

[Ed]

Mickey Spillane? Or was that the writer?

Sally

Ah-haaa!  It was Mickey Spillane's "Mike Hammer Mysteries" wasn't it?

[SallyQ]

That's it! See, we all got there in the end   

Sally

[AngelinaMonteiro]

Wow, Geoff, that was some read.

Trouble now: I was going to post one on here for the comp, but I'm not so keen on a sure loser, so I think I'll just polish mine up a bit more and maybe it'll glimmer enough for something else.

[Ed]

Wow, Geoff, that was some read.

Trouble now: I was going to post one on here for the comp, but I'm not so keen on a sure loser, so I think I'll just polish mine up a bit more and maybe it'll glimmer enough for something else.

Don't put yourself down   Post the story

Please?