Having a Laugh
by Patrick O’Connor
HE was falling. Not flying, falling. No
wings, just outstretched arms desperately seeking something to hold on to.
Below him was a big black hole. He was
falling towards it and he was screaming. Screaming so loud that he thought his
lungs would burst. But the fall went on and on and there didn’t seem to be an
end to it.
Rory woke with a jolt, covered in sweat and
shaking like a leaf.
He got up and went to work – a mindless
exercise in an anonymous call centre. But he couldn’t concentrate. On two
occasions, his supervisor came over to ask if he was feeling poorly. It
was bad enough having to deal with the bland voices of the stupid people who
called in but he had the other voice to contend with as well.
Rory knew what it was but hard as he tried,
he couldn’t get it out of his head. Eventually he threw off his headphones and
ran out of the building, gasping at the fresh air, taking big gulps to calm
himself down.
Things were getting worse, he knew, and it
had only been a couple of days. He thought about telling someone but who? Gaz
and Tony had been there with him when it happened but were they having the same
experiences?
They hadn’t mentioned anything in the pub
last night and they would probably think him mad if he told them.
At the time they were just having a laugh, no
harm in it. What happened wasn’t their fault. It was just a giggle that’s all.
They never thought it would turn out the way it did.
He couldn’t go to his mum and dad, he
couldn’t tell them what had happened. No way. They would be ashamed of him, he
was certain of that. They’d say they didn’t bring him up to behave in that way.
They lads went clubbing that night, had
plenty of beers as usual and chatted up a few women but his heart wasn’t in it.
His thoughts were focussed on the voice, saying the same thing, over and over
and over. Why wouldn’t it stop?
“Rory, are you all right mate?” asked Tony.
He nodded but swiftly resumed the vacant look into space that had characterised
his behaviour over the last couple of days. Even the incessant beat of the
music in the club couldn’t spare him that damned voice.
Gaz bought another round and Rory swiftly
consumed his pint. He noticed that his hands were shaking and after downing his
beer in record time, raced back to the bar to get another one.
Soon it would be time to go home and sleep
would be upon him. Sleep and that dream, that nightmare, falling, falling,
falling. He couldn’t face that, he just couldn’t.
As the three of them staggered out of the
club into the chill of a frosty, early January morning, Rory knew what he had
to do.
ON another occasion Rory may have found the view over the city skyline
breathtaking but not now. Now he was barely aware of it.
The multi-storey car park was virtually
deserted and no-one had noticed him make his way up to the very
top. He wondered where the lad had jumped from.
Gaz, Tony and him had enjoyed a boozy session
in the Anchor that lunchtime. Was it only two days ago? They were noisy and
exuberant but that was normal behaviour for lads wasn’t it. Not doing any harm,
just having a laugh. You’re only young once and you have to make the most of
it, that was his motto.
When they eventually left the pub, they saw a
small crowd gathered below the car park. Their eyes joined the throng in gazing
upwards where a young man was teetering on the edge of the top tier.
Someone was dialling 999 for the emergency
services but for reasons he couldn’t explain now, Rory found the whole
situation highly amusing.
“Go on then, jump you prat, get it over and
done with, give us all a laugh,” he yelled, his speech slurred by five pints of
Marston’s Pedigree, fortified only by a packet of cheese and onion crisps. Gaz
and Tony started giggling and Rory reached for the camera button on his mobile
phone.
“No, hold on mate, just let me get my camera
sorted. Want to get you in mid-flight!”
More giggles from his mates but then someone
in the crowd whispered: “Shut up, that’s disgusting”.
It really got Rory’s back up when people told
him what to do, that’s why he hated school so much. Didn’t last too long at
college either and his supervisor at work was already starting to get on his
wick. Always someone who thinks he knows better.
No-one was telling him what to do today!
The sound of sirens could be heard emerging
from the background but that didn’t stop him bellowing out: “Hey Superman, come
on let’s see you fly!”
Rory’s pals roared in appreciation and then
the youth jumped. There was a plopping sound as his body smashed onto the
pavement only a few feet away and Rory’s face was splattered with blood.
The three of them paused momentarily, their
expressions frozen with horror. And then they ran.
THE voice was getting louder now, more urgent. Rory could feel the wind
whipping around his ears, his eyes watering.
He started to sob uncontrollably, his
shoulders shaking. The voice was urging him on, telling him what to do, he had
no choice, he knew that. As he stepped out into the void he felt an
overwhelming surge of relief.