Jump!
Keegan Spindler
Published by Keegan Spindler at Smashwords
Copyright 2011 Keegan Spindler
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Chapter 1
Sayonara
Hanging upside down on the monkey bars is a strange place to be on the last day of one’s secondary education. Yet, this is where I could be found, and I was happy. I had always found that upside down is the best way to think, and I needed to think.
Today is it. Today’s the day when I have to take responsibility for my own life. Today I finish year thirteen, and, to be completely honest, I’m scared. A week ago I was on top of the world and everything in my life was going to plan.
It’s strange how fast life can be thrown on its head. A week ago today I had just been given an offer to the University of Leeds – on deferred entry – and I was happy, despite the fact that, if I’m truly honest, University is more my fathers dream than my own. Yet, having said that, I have no idea what my own dream may be. At least I will be doing what I love at university – art foundation – and I’d have a year to get myself used to the idea of fending for myself.
Which brings me back to hanging upside down on the monkey bars. This morning my parents informed me that they were selling the house. Ever heard the phrase ‘A spanner in the works’? Well that just there is the definition. Originally my plan for my gap year was to stay with my parents and work, just building up my finances in preparation for my first year. Foundation art is not considered a part of higher education, which means that yours truly won’t be getting a loan to help with the university fees. Thus, working for a year.
However, my wonderful parents whom I love and adore have blithely and happily destroyed this intelligent and functional plan. So, back to square one. I have come to the monkey bars to decide what to do. Not much more than the moving house announcement has been discussed in my household, possibly due to the circumstances surrounding it. My father, with whom my relationship is, interesting, let’s say, informed me of his intentions to move locations. His phrasing, not mine. The stuffy old fart actually sent me an email detailing the plans. At least I know now.
In the milling mass of bodies a pair of eyes searched for one that wasn’t there. Jane Fitzpatrick, one of the so called ‘Fantastic Five’ – a billing that turned out to be most ironic – let her eyes wander in search of the now achingly familiar gray shot mop of messy black that was Aidan’s hair. The gray streaks that she once thought so ridiculous meant that he was truly eye-catching, even – or so she thought – in the frenetic mill of freedom crazed youth. Yet her eyes, despite their increasingly frantic searching, failed to locate his distinct hair, let alone the rest of him.
She instead made her way towards the towering frame of Jack, his tall build standing out from the milling masses that she now negotiated her way through. Jack, the second of the Fantastic Five and Aidan’s very best friend, was incredibly tall, well over six feet, and though Jane was very reluctant to admit it, a little intimidating. His friendship with Aidan was truly strange and the juxtaposition of the two of them next to each other was mighty odd, Aidan’s slight frame and relatively short height of 5 foot 7 meaning that he was well and truly dwarfed by the hulking frame of Jack, who standing at 6 foot 6 was almost a full foot taller than Aidan. His well developed muscles meant that Aidan was almost childlike in proportion when compared to him. Strangely though, they had been close companions from the very first day that they met. They were thick as thieves from day one, and over the last seven years they had only grown closer.
Jack was the one person Jane could count on to know where Aidan was at any time, but today even he looked a bit perplexed at the absence of his best friend. This perplexity was wiped from his face by a broad grin when he spotted Jane’s approach. He caught her eye and mouthed the word ‘Aidan.’ She grinned and gave a short shrug of the shoulders to let him know that she had no idea either. Finally she arrived in the small radius that he always projected in crowds, as those who were smaller than him subconsciously gave him as wide a berth as possible in such a crowded area.
She exhaled all at
once as she slumped against his massive frame to catch her breath.
Seconds later she heard a sharp laugh as the third member of the now
defunct Fantastic Five, Marc, joined their impromptu conference. Marc
grinned at her as she gathered herself into a more poised state.
“Really, you would think that he would actually be able to
bring himself to pitch up to his own last day.” This brought a dry
smile from Jack. The huge man flinched as Jane jabbed him in the
ribs, then burst into laughter. Jane’s cheeks gained two bright
spots of colour as she slammed her fist into his ribcage, this time
hard enough to hurt her knuckles, but he was so immersed in his
laughter that he didn’t even bother to pretend to flinch as he
usually did. This in turn made her even more upset, which added to
the indignation of her now throbbing knuckles. Her voice, now
crackling with anger, rose above his deep chuckles;
“And what, if I may, is so funny Jack Everard?” His large frame shuddered as his laughter redoubled at her anger. Still struggling to get a word out, he raised a lengthy arm to point at a particularly large and seething knot of adolescent males, all centred on a single, rather overwhelmed young lady. Lucy Katherine Faraday, without a doubt the most popular girl in the whole of the school and, most probably, the town. Once, not all that long ago, she was the final member of their little group of five but, as she grew, both in age and looks, the popularity came and well, she changed. Clichéd as it may sound; she changed from the dainty, kind soul to someone entirely different. Gone was the shy and gentle soul that Jack introduced himself to and found so compelling and in her place was a strange new person that left the group without so much as a goodbye.
One day she just arrived with a new group of friends, and never said another word to them. Poor Jack was heartbroken, and didn’t speak much after that. Without ever admitting it, he had fallen in love with the shy, gentle girl that Lucy had once been and, it seemed to Jane at least, that he was still in love with her. The swarm that surrounded her now seemed to be a mad rush to get her phone number. Jack’s laughter finally wound down as her distress became more and more apparent until finally Jack just walked toward her. The crowd, subconsciously intimidated by his bulk, slowly shifted out of his way until he stood all alone in front of Lucy. He then moved just enough that she could walk past him and out of the crowd without ever acknowledging his existence.
This brought a sad sigh from Marc, always a romanticist, and even she felt a catch in her own throat at this final exhibit of his unrequited love. She finally managed to wrench her eyes from the heartbreaking scene and, having done that, went to find Aidan.
The sunset glowed orange through my closed eyelids as the dull ache behind my knees dragged me from my reverie. I really shouldn’t have been upside down for so long and I knew that when I finally flipped right way up I was going to suffer for it, but sometimes thinking really is easier upside down. All that extra blood to fuel the brain. Unscientific, maybe, but it works for me. I stretched my numb hands back up towards the bars and immediately felt the flaming pain fizzing up my arms, as the vicious pins and needles immediately flushed through my arms.
Finally getting a firm grip on the bars, I let my aching knees loosen their grip, and squeezing the bars in my hand, let my legs slide and drop, whipping my body from upside down to upright in almost no time at all. For a few milliseconds I just hung on the bars, all of my body weight on my rather spindly arms, before dropping to the ground. As my feet thudded down, the mother of all head rushes impacted and actually floored me, my legs buckling and collapsing beneath me. The whirling colours rushed through my head for almost a minute, almost sickeningly so. The slow whirling finally drained from my head and found me curled into a ball in the dust beneath the monkey bars. Sometimes thinking hurts. I hauled myself to my feet, and went to the swings to could mull over my decision.
Jane was running out of places to look. She had been everywhere she could think of, starting at his house, mostly because it was the closest spot to the school. She had stood in front of his front door like an idiot, ringing the bell and knocking periodically. Ten minutes out there, skin crawling from the gazes of Aidan’s neighbour and she gave up, moving along to the next of the places that she knew Aidan liked. She thought she knew him well, but she really struggled to think of the places where he might be. Sometimes he went through days like this, days where he hid from everyone, even his closest friends. On those days, it was always Jack or Marc who managed to locate him. She always rationalised the fact that it was never her who found it, telling herself that they had head starts, or that she had been busy that day, or even that she had better things to do than look for some sulky, immature guy. At the moment though, she was beginning to accept the truth. She could never find him because she doesn’t know him well enough to figure out where he is. It hurt to admit it but, if she wanted to find him, she was going to have to ask for some help from Jack.
Jack was moping. He knew this but, if he was really honest, he didn’t care. He had no desire to get on with his life, at least not today. Today he wanted to sit and mope about a girl that he had loved for years and who had turned into a complete and utter bitch. She had hurt him and hurt him badly that morning. He had protected her, had been her knight in shining armour and she had ignored him. It hurt that she didn’t even look at him as she walked past, it hurt him that it looked like she didn’t even care. What happened to the girl that he fell in love with? How did she disappear so completely and utterly into the heartless woman who walked past him that morning? This was his moment of truth, his moment to let go.
All that he had left was his friends now that he no longer had a woman that he loved. He scrubbed at the single tear that tracked down his cheek as the distant sound of a woman’s voice caught his attention. A soft smile crept across his face as he turned to see Jane, kicking her way through the fallen leaves that carpeted the school courtyard that Jack hadn’t yet managed to leave. Her long legs shuffled through the dry brown leaves, and her slender arms wrapped around her slim waist, as if against some cold that only she felt. The soon to be setting sun caught her fiery hair as she made her way towards him, the hair that she hated so much, that gave her so much trouble and meant that she had to be saved, but also the hair that she refused to dye because it caught his eye, because it meant that it was Aidan who was the one who saved her.
He smiled to himself again; amused that he was not the only one with an unrequited love. He knew who she was here for, and could see her fuming that she couldn’t find him. He hauled himself to his feet, and made his way towards her through the crackling leaves.
Marc ran his fingers through his greasy black hair as he stood outside the pub, dragging on the slowly drooping cigarette, the slow red burning glowing in the murky light thrown out by the slowly sinking sun. He grimaced at the limp cigarette, his mother’s voice once again shrill in his head, berating his life choices and his father’s gruff anger at his son once again returning in the early hours of the morning, stinking of both smoke and alcohol. He loved his parents dearly, but he was incredibly pleased that it was only a few short weeks until he left his home. He felt that his relationship with his parents would be hugely improved by his departure because, as they say; familiarity breeds contempt.
He took another drag on the pathetic cigarette as his phone buzzed loudly against his leg. He swore to himself as his cigarette dropped out his mouth and he struggled to force his hand into his close fitting skinny jeans. His phone again buzzed, nestling further down into his pocket. His cursing increased as it slipped just beneath his searching finders, until his questing fingers found some small purchase and managed to drag the phone up out of the skin-tight jeans. A blue-green glow lit up his face as he flicked open the phone and managed to get the messages menu open. Jane’s name stood stark against the blue screen. He opened the message with a small grimace and struggled to read the small writing in the twilight. The short message simply read; looking 4 aidan. help? With a small sigh and a shake of his head he went to find his friends.
I could feel the serrated grass poking through my shirt as I slowly let my body down onto the cold hill that overlooked the now dark playground. I smiled a little as I raised my eyes to the skies, searching for the stars that so often eluded me in this country of gray skies and cold days. My face lit up with an enormous smile as I saw the clear sky that I had wanted to see, if only for dramatic effect. I have no real love of the stars, nor of the night sky. What I did have was a sense of drama, and lying and looking at the stars at night while thinking about life choices is what they do in the movies. I let out a loose chuckle at the childish and whimsical manner in which I was conducting myself, so at odds with my age and what I was planning to do.
I brought my hands to my knees and hauled myself to a more upright position, looking across the land rather than the sky. I gazed across the seldom used playground that had helped me marshal my thoughts, and thought of what had occurred over the last few days, of my parents, who had thrown me into my life earlier than I had planned, so they could get on with their own life like they had planned. I thought of my schoolmates, many of whom I would never see again, and was surprised by the soft ache that I felt in my chest. Why should I care so much about them? They were the ones who mocked, who teased and who bullied until school became so painful to me that I shied from going. Why should I miss them?
Yet despite these regrets, happy memories shone in my mind, times when my friends and I were truly happy and when those that I now found myself missing were, if not kind, then perfectly willing to leave us alone. The quiet memories brought a melancholy smile to my face, while at the same time making me truly content in my decision. It was time to make new memories, untainted by the remorse and sadness of what had happened before. It was time to move on.
Jane was feeling
slightly hysterical. Even Jack and Marc were struggling to find
Aidan. Two of his oldest friends couldn’t find him, and that is not
a good sign. What if something had happened to him? What if he was
hurt or kidnapped or – a sharp buzzing cut across her increasingly
panicked thoughts. She groped for her phone, hoping that it was the
source of the sound. Her fingers found the reassuringly cool plastic
of her phone, and she breathed a sigh of relief as it buzzed loudly.
Her heart sank as she saw it was not from Aidan, but Marc. Her face
cracked into a relieved grin as she read the text. She turned to Jack
with her smile still apparent.
“Marc’s found him!” Jack
smiled back at her.
“Shall we go meet him then?”
Its strange how something can seem like such a good idea when you’re by yourself, but when you have to tell your best friends about it, it feels like the worst idea in the world. I was finding this out firsthand as I watched two of my three best mates walk quietly through the now dark playground, Jane’s red hair bobbing at Jack’s shoulder as the two made their way towards the dark form of Marc, who was sitting on the swings waiting for them. I had asked him to wait for them there, so I could tell them all what I had planned at once. Marc stood as Jane walked towards him, and seemed to say something to her, eliciting a hugely amusing response from her, as she immediately started punching him in the arm, repeatedly, and judging from the impact sound, very hard. I couldn’t help but smile. I took a deep breath and made my way down towards them, smile still on my face.
“Well, where is he? If you lied to me I’m gonna kick your face in.” Marc stifled a smile. Jane must be really worried if she was threatening him. He took it as a sign of affection. He turned to face the approaching duo, still struggling to conceal his broad grin. He pointed up to the hill where Aidan was laid on the ground, unmoving. Marc wasn’t sure, but presumed that Aidan had noticed that the three of them were now all there. He turned his gaze back to Jane.
“He’s unconscious and he has some form of head wound. I wandered up there to make sure it was him and it looked like he was bleeding pretty badly. I kicked him as well and he didn’t even flinch. He is really out of it.” His face was now painted with an enormous grin to show that he wasn’t serious, but the look of true horror on Jane’s face was hilarious. As her face started to go white, he realised that she hadn’t recognised his look of amusement in the darkness, which meant that she didn’t realise that he was kidding.
“Hey Jane, relax, I’m just joking, I promise he is not hurt in any way, shape or form. It was just a joke. Forgive me.” Jack grimaced at him and turned his back, informing Marc that it was his own fault and he was having nothing to do with it, but not before he had produced a look that told Marc that he was an idiot. As if Marc needed to be told. Marc shook his head and turned back to Jane, whose brows were knitted in a bizarre mix of confusion and fury. Then, to Marc’s horror, the confusion lifted from her face, leaving only the fury. He flinched as she leapt toward him, throwing her fist into his arm, very hard. He took the punishment for a minute and then tried to dodge, at the same time shouting at Jane.
“Jane, he really is fine! Look, no seriously, stop hitting me and look at him, he is standing up. Jane, stop hitting me damnit!”
The smile faded from my face as I made my way towards my friends. Moving closer to them was almost physically painful, as I knew how much this was going to hurt them. Eventually the sound of my footsteps reached their ears and they turned towards me.
“Aidan!” The sound hit my ears at about the same time that Jane did. She wrapped me in a frantic embrace. Then she just hit me. Multiple times. Hard.
“What the hell did you think you were doing, disappearing like that? You didn’t tell anyone where you were, not even Jack or me. Idiot.” Jane’s voice took on an edge while she was talking, like she was struggling not to cry. He grimaced, struggling to look at her.
“Sorry Jane. It’s just, well, I really needed to think and the last day of school is not exactly the best place to gather your thoughts. So, I kind of just, skipped.” The reaction of the others was rather amusing, even with the news that I had to give them. Marc simply nodded in an understanding gesture, as if to convey that it made perfect sense, Jack just seemed to understand, like he always did and Jane still looked plain furious.
“Surely you could have told someone though. Like me!” This was Jane, and I did have to concede that she had a point. I had just skipped out on my life without telling anyone. Put that way I sounded like a massive idiot. Probably because I was, but that’s not the point.
“Sorry guys, its just that it’s a long story. Which I was planning on telling you right now. So get comfortable, maybe on the swings or something.” I waited a few moments for them to settle. “Right, it all started this morning when my amazingly odd father sent me an email. In this email was details about my parents plan to move house. Obviously this was difficult for me.”
Jane listened in disbelief as Aidan started to talk. She had always known that the Davies family was a little bit weird, but still. They didn’t tell anyone their plans, or even gave hints away of what they were considering. Then they drop this bombshell. They’d ruined Aidan’s plans and through that, the plans of the group. They wanted to spend at least the summer together. She really couldn’t even begin to imagine what Aidan was going to do. She tuned back in with trepidation.
“Which brings me to the point I took today to think about. What on earth am I going to do now? I don’t have anywhere to stay, a job to pay for somewhere to stay or any reason to remain here. So I have decided not to. I know this is going to hurt you guys, and I’m sorry for that, but I am going to leave.”
Stunned silence followed the announcement. Nobody could quite believe what they were hearing. Aidan leaving? Jane could feel her eyes begin to burn. She didn’t even bother trying to say anything, knowing that her voice would catch or give her away. Instead she just turned and walked away as Aidan was bombarded with questions from Jack and Marc. She waited until she was out of earshot, then ran. She didn’t pay any attention to where she was going, just put her head down and ran. She would have struggled to see where she was going anyway as her tears began to flow, much as she resisted them.
She ran by instinct more than a sense of direction, her body following a path that she had so often travelled as a child. She ran until legs ached and her head began to clear. She began to realise just how far away Aidan had hidden himself from the world. Her house finally came into her tear scrubbed vision, and she began to once again run to the safety that it had provided for so many years. She raced up the stairs, not bothering to check if her parents were home, and threw herself into her bed, tears once again bubbling up inside her. Aidan was leaving.
The questions immediately sounded from Jack and Marc. “Where are you going?”
“When are you leaving?”
“How long are you going for?” Aidan tried to silence them.
“Guys! I haven’t really planned anything. I’ve only just decided that I’m going to go. Its taken me all day just to come to that conclusion. It wasn’t an easy decision for me to make. I want to go soon though, before I lose my nerve. I don’t know where I’m going yet and it’s pretty scary, but I’m looking forward to it. It’s going to be an adventure.” I couldn’t help but smile as I thought about what I was planning to do. Scary though it may, it will most definitely be an adventure.
As I looked at them, I really hit me what I would be missing. The quiet understanding and support of Jack, and the sardonic affection of Marc. What was I going to do without them? That isn’t even mentioning Jane, the beautiful and strong pillar of support.
“Where’s Jane?”
Jack walked up to Aidan, a soft smile creasing his face.
“You know, I almost expected this Ade. I always knew you were always going to leave us. I just didn’t know when. Just remember us when you come back.” Jack stretched out his hand towards Aidan, for a handshake. He burst out laughing as his best friend ignored the hand and threw himself into his arms, sobbing, his resolve shattered by the understanding offered from Jack. Jack didn’t even flinch, but simply wrapped his arms around his closest and oldest friend, offering him comfort in his fear. Eventually Aidan detached himself from his friend, tear soaked eyes gazing up at him in thanks for his silent understanding.
The soft smile that had never left Jacks face grew as he once again stretched out his hand towards Aidan, this time with a well worn leaflet clutched in it.
“I’ve wanted to go for a while Ade, but I can’t afford it. You wanted to go somewhere anyway, without any idea of where. Now you can have some idea.” Aidan smiled his thanks at Jack as he took the leaflet and peered at it in the gloomy half light shed by the nearby houses.
‘Experience Japan.’ The words were blazoned onto the worn leaflet, visible even in gloomy half light that I was standing in. I thought I knew Jack, but he had never given even the slightest indication of this dream of his, now so boldly displayed in front of me. I felt almost intrusive, but at the same time, hugely excited. Jack had given me a place to go, and what a place it was! Never had I even considered Japan, not even given it half a thought, for the most part of my life – apart from the odd Japanese comic fad, and that was just to fit in. The country was utterly alien to me, and I had no concept of what awaited me.
Over the next few days things were all fairly calm. I had to break the news to my parents, who not only took it very well, but offered to help with the expenses, an offer I took fairly quickly after discovering the cost of flights to Tokyo, or to be more accurate, Narita International. I could relax into the idea of this trip, as I booked my tickets far in advance in order to save a little bit of money, only a tiny bit, and so that I could see most of my family and old friends before I left. My flight would be leaving at about twenty to two on the fourteenth of August and arrive in Narita International, which apparently isn’t in Tokyo, on the fifteenth at about five past nine in the morning. It was a very long flight, the longest I had ever been on, by a large margin. It would probably be quite uncomfortable as well – planes always are – but at least it would an adventure. I couldn’t wait for it to be the fifteenth of August.
“Son, I hate to tell you this, and please don’t quote me on it, but I hate your mother’s side of the family. Her sister is an unbelievable bitch and her husband is, well, a bit of a bore. You know how those train spotters are, always talking about numbers and trains. It can get on a man’s nerves sometimes. So, I’m afraid I’m going to have to sit this one out.” My jaw dropped at this speech, coming from the mouth of my father. He had just uttered all the complaints that I had issued about my aunt and uncle over the last ten years. Not to mention that that was the most he had said to me in about four months, after he decided that I was a typical teenager, and the first thing he had said to me since his email a couple of weeks ago. I was dumbfounded, something he apparently took as acceptance of his statement, as he nodded at me with a crooked grin and skipped towards the door – not literally. I managed to find my voice before he escaped to his car, yelling after him.
“But Dad, wait, what am I supposed to say to them? They will be expecting to see you there!” I was greeted by the roaring of my old man’s midlife crisis – I mean car – as he drove off. I had to come up with a cover story for the old annoyance and suffer through this crappy day. I know that they have come to see me and everything, but still, I’d rather blow off this thoroughly uninspiring day. The only good thing that may – emphasis on may – come out of this is as follows. The desire to scream and run that the visit will without a doubt instil in me can only increase my desire to get to Japan.
I was right. After that hellish day, I could jump on the plane immediately if not sooner. I just wanted to get myself away from this terrible place and these horrible people, and that’s just my own relatives. You can just guess what my opinion of the general population is at this point. I simply cannot wait. I had come to accept this decision, and was fairly pleased with my survival of the horror relatives. I flopped into my bed, idly paging through one of the many comic book things that Jack always got me for my birthday. I never read them. I just stuck them on a shelf in the corner of my bedroom and forgot about them. Until he gave me that little leaflet.
When he gave it to me something went ‘boing’ at the back of my mind and I remembered him telling me about these comics that he loved. They were from Japan and you read them backwards. I had never been totally convinced, but he was determined to convince me. Sure enough, my very next birthday I opened my gift to find these comics awaiting me. I hadn’t even bothered to open them. But every birthday I would get the next book or two in the series. At this point I had about twenty books. I had finally got around to cracking them open and seeing what had made Jack fall so in love with them.
I felt a little bad that it had taken me so long to do it – nine years or so – but hey! Better late than never. Despite knowing that it was supposed to be read backwards I still opened it the same way I would any other. I was greeted with a large warning page that essentially told me that I was an idiot and then showed me exactly how it was supposed to be read. When I turned to the correct side of the book to start from it took me a couple of pages to get the feel of it, but after that I was engrossed.
In fact, I was so engrossed that when my phone emitted its now easily discernable buzz that signalled the arrival of a text message it was like having cold water poured on your head. It rather abruptly pulled me from my reverie in the beauty of the story and the art that accompanied it, so when I moved to check who had texted me in the middle of the night I was more than a little disgruntled. I was a bit surprised to see that the message was from Jane, who I hadn’t heard from since she disappeared after my announcement. I flicked open my phone and read the message;
From: Jane
At:
22:14
Pls dn’t go
From: <3 Aidan
<3
At: 22:14
I have 2
From: Jane
At:
22:15
Why?
From: <3 Aidan
<3
At: 22:16
My parents r moving so nowhere for me 2 stay
From: Jane
At:
22:16
Stay with me or jack or marc
From: <3 Aidan
<3
At: 22:17
I cn’t its not fair for them or their parents
From: Jane
At:
22:17
Pls stay
From: <3 Aidan
<3
At: 22:18
Why?
From: Jane
At:
22:18
Stay for me
From: <3 Aidan
<3
At: 22:20
What?
From: Jane
At:
22:23
I love you. I always have
From: Jane
At:
22:27
Aidan?
From: Jane
At:
22:30
Pls answer me
From: Jane
At:
22:35
Pls aidan!
From <3 Aidan
<3
At: 22:47
I’m sorry
These texts left me with a distinctly uneasy and almost painful knot in my chest. I suddenly knew, no realised, that she had waited all this time, watching me go through girlfriend after girlfriend, for some reason reluctant to tell me how she felt, most likely because she valued our friendship too much or some similar reason, and I had just blown her off without a word. At the same time though, the timing of her announcement left me angry. What had she expected from me? I was leaving in less than a week, on my way to the other side of the world. Literally. There are not many places in the world where I could further away from the place where she was. She can’t have been so unrealistic as to expect something from me. Could she?
An uneventful week, in so much that nothing of note happened. I spent as much time as possible with my friends – Jane excluded, much to my dismay - because I knew that this was the last time that I would be seeing them for many a month, and trying to store up as many happy memories of them as possible, clichéd though it may sound. I had to go to a few more of those oh so stultifying get togethers, so painful and yet so necessary, seeing as I had very little desire to be hated in the family circles for something so trivial as not saying goodbye. I was trying to store up all that ill will for when I did something truly hate worthy, though anything suitable fails to come to mind at this point in time, probably why I hadn’t done it yet.
The calendar flipped very slowly through my last week in Britain and, to be honest, I was starting to get a bit bored of it. The excitement of the adventure that was about to unfold was beginning to grow, and these mindless farewells and endless boredom was starting to take its toll.
By the time my date of departure ticked around, I was buzzing. I couldn’t wait to be on the plane, flying away through to the first truly unfamiliar place I had ever been. The car that was meant to be taking me to the airport was packed, though not with luggage. People were hanging out the windows, greeting me as I walked out the house and almost giving me a heart attack in the process. They wanted to come with me – to the airport that is. Although the rest of my friends came to see me off, Jane was nowhere to be seen.
Checking my cell phone for the last time in an English speaking country only saddened me, especially as there was nothing there from her. The huge knot of guilt in my chest worsened and I was left with the uneasy feeling that I should try to fix this before I left. I mulled quietly on the on the road to the airport, quiet in among the loud voices of my best friends as they shouted and milled around in the car. Sadness filled me as I left the car on the way into the airport and attempted to negotiate the check in desks. The final call for my flight sounded out and as I my way toward the boarding lounge, Jane’s face flashed into my mind. The so called Fantastic Five was well and truly destroyed. This left me with a sadness that lingered with me as I made my way through to the boarding for the flight to Narita, Japan.
Chapter 2
Hajimaimashite
The plane touched down at 7 AM and, thanks to the time difference, I was exhausted. My body was insisting that rather than seven in the morning it was eleven o’clock last night. The twelve hour flight had left my body cramped and sore, and crossing eight time zones left my head aching. All I wanted to do was sleep, but if I did that then I would never get myself adjusted to the time. So, I needed to keep myself occupied. This posed a problem for me though, as rather than placing their main international airport in their main city, as most would agree makes sense, the Japanese decided to instead build it in Narita, which is undeniably a lovely town, but is also located sixty miles away from the main city of Tokyo. That is pretty far. Now, considering I was both jetlagged and bored, I don’t really trust myself not to fall asleep on the train and miss my stop. It’s just the sort of thing I would do upon arrival in a new country. Narita would have to do for today. Apparently there was an amazing department store that I could have a look around. First though, I was going to need to find an English speaking hotel to stay in, which hopefully wouldn’t be too difficult. It was smart of me really, coming to a country with a language that I don’t understand, an alphabet that I can’t read – actually there are three, and I can’t read any of them – and no concept of how to make myself understood. At least I can always say with utter sincerity that it is an adventure. It will most definitely be an adventure.
Nikko Narita Airport Hotel was a hotel near the airport where the staff spoke English fairly fluently. There was also a free shuttle from the airport. What else could a man ask for? After I rented a room for the night and requested a nine-thirty wake-up call, I jumped on the train for the very short journey to the town of Narita. I almost missed my stop as well, because I couldn’t read the names of the stations. Luckily I recognized the name during one of the driver’s incomprehensible speeches. I say luckily because everything is pronounced completely different here. I can barely understand the words that I do know.
I had thought ahead enough to change my money in the airport, which was a good idea, especially with the fact that most of the ATMs had fairly prominent signs that said that they didn’t take foreign cards, which is fairly odd in a town with an international airport only five minutes away. It didn’t bother me, but I was pretty thankful that I had thought to change some cash. I propped open the map that I had got for myself at the information booth, and peered at it. The little bit of research that I had done said that Narita was as good a place as any to experience Japanese culture, and I was looking forward to finding out about the place that I would be spending the next month or so. The map was unhelpful, seeing as it was all in Japanese. Eventually I decided on the main street, in a fairly lazy effort to find a starting place to explore from.
Narita was amazing. My first encounter of Japan was this little town and it would remain in my head forever. The first place I went from the station was an enormous store called Ito-Yokado. It was a bit like Tesco in size, but man, was it different. The products they sold were so different and almost nothing I saw in there was found in England. It was crazy, and it highlighted for me just how alien the place I now found myself was. It may seem like a supermarket is a strange place to visit, but I was on the way to the main street when I came across the enormous building which contained the store. I didn’t even know that it was a supermarket or anything of the like. I just came in because of the very exciting signs. They were in English, which was part of the excitement, and also the secondary reason for my entry. The main reason was, of course, that it looked awesome. What I found inside was not a disappointment per se, but obviously not what I expected. I still found it interesting though.
Upon leaving the store I continued into the town, enjoying the pleasant walk through the streets until I arrived at the main street, which my map said was rather long. Turning into the street made my day. Sure, arriving in Japan was pretty cool, but laying eyes on that vibrant street was eye-opening. It was buzzing with natives; people going about their daily shopping, street vendors shouting for customers in an attempt to sell their wares, which ranged from bowls and chopsticks to something called okonomiyami, which is some kind of pancake. The walls of the street were lined with little stores and restaurants. As I made my way into the teeming mass of people, the street vendors turned their attention to me, shouting in Japanese and thrusting their trays of items with me. I refused the temptation to just relent, and buy just one or two items from the more vociferous of the vendors. The simple – but major – problem I had that prevented me from just giving in was the language barrier. I had no idea what I was being sold, or even how much it would cost me. Thus, I decided it was probably a bad idea to buy anything. Despite the harrowing experience of the very vocal vendors, the street was astonishing, seemingly very traditional, and a brilliant way to experience the beautiful culture I was already beginning to enjoy.
At the end of the main road there was a magnificent collection of old buildings, again crowded with many people, who buzzed around the streets of the aged structures. The place seemed to be a temple of some kind and had an amazing sense of history. Obviously I had no way to find out about the place, as I had absolutely no grasp of the Japanese language, which was frustrating. Even without any knowledge of the history of the temples – or even if they were actually temples – it was still an awesome experience. It seemed that I had chosen a fortunate day to arrive, as there was some form of festival happening. There were so many people around and the place rumbled with the voices of those people who were there for the festival, as well as those who manned the stalls and events of the festival itself. The heaving streets of the place were slightly intimidating, but the architecture of the buildings was astonishing. In England there are of course places where the buildings are breathtakingly beautiful, or where there is a true sense of history. This temple was similar to those places in a way, but at the same time it was incredibly different. A whole different culture had been what had created this temple, and you could feel the differences in the atmosphere of the place. Despite the alien feel of it, it was still awe inspiring.
Unsurprisingly, I was starting to get tired. It had been quite a long day for me, considering I hadn’t slept since about four in the morning – local time. Despite this, I didn’t want to go back to my hotel yet. It still felt like there was so much left to see and do! The place is amazing and I was having the time of my life. It was now about seven o’clock local time – to my mind about three in the morning. It wasn’t the first time I had been up until three in the morning, but it was the first time I had done so after an international flight. It was truly exhausting. Wonderful though Narita was, I was getting closer to the edge of my limits with every minute. Eventually I was at the point where I could take no more. I stumbled to the train station, where I got onto the train I thought would take me to the airport. I got off the train at ‘Higashi Narita’ which I was fairly sure was Narita airport. I was absolutely right in the regard that it was indeed the airport. However, the Higashi Narita stop was a stop for airport employees only, which meant that when I – very confidently – strode off the train, I stopped in my tracks with absolutely no comprehension of where I was. I realized fairly quickly that I had got onto the wrong train, or at least got off at the wrong stop. The small problem that I had was that I had absolutely no concept of how to make my way back to a place where I could get to my hotel. This, of course, meant that I was starting to get a little bit grumpy. I was tired, jetlagged and lost. Oh, and foreign. I searched desperately for someone who could speak English because it had got to the point where I had simply had enough of gobbledegook. I just wanted to get to my hotel room and sleep. However, fairly typically, I was struggling to find a person who could speak my language, someone who could help me find my way. Eventually I found an attendee who could make himself understood, and he managed to explain to me the mistake that I had made, very stupidly in his opinion. Thankfully he could also make himself clear enough to explain how to get back through the confusing and foreign airport. I thanked him, but just to be insulting, he gave me my very first Japanese lesson.
“Thank you is Arigato. A-ri-ga-to.” I smiled in genuine pleasure, enjoying the beginning of a hopefully successful attempt at learning a new language. I can hope at least. I smiled at him – a fairly mocking smile, to be fair to me – and repeated what he said.
“Arigato.” Then, after trying to resist the urge for several seconds, I relented with a grin.
“Domo arigato mister roboto.” His face went white with shock and anger and he visibly struggled to control himself. I stifled a laugh as I turned and made my way back to the train station for the rigmarole of returning to Narita to get back to the airport. The train journey was smooth and I was still tired –surprise, surprise, nothing had changed in the last hour or so – so I found my eyes beginning to droop lower, as I sat on the train on the way back into Narita. I jerked my eyes open several times on the short journey into Narita, but luckily managed to keep myself awake until I could get off the train. I was starting to worry about managing to stay awake on the next train, but tried to put it out of my mind as I stepped onto the next recently arrived train. I made my way to an empty seat, but as I was about to sit down, I decided to stand instead, in the hopes that I could avoid dropping off into sleep. The trip was once again uneventful, but this time I managed to keep my eyes open throughout, a large relief.
By the time I stumbled through the hotel’s lobby doors the clock had ticked to almost nine o’clock, which doesn’t sound especially bad, but I had been wide awake for more than twelve hours, which doesn’t happen much for someone with no reason to wake up in the morning. Namely, me. I can’t even think of the last time I had been awake for more than twelve hours with less than twelve hours of sleep. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I had been awake for more than twelve hours full stop. As such I was mighty bleary eyed as I managed to make my way into the hotel, just wanting to reach my bed. I wasn’t just tired; I was exhausted, especially since I had taken a little bit of a detour that could be classified as a mishap. I had been tired before that, and that had taken the very last of my energy. At this point I was working on borrowed energy. The elevator reached me floor with a ping, and I almost fell out of it into the thankfully empty corridor. Even I, whose levels of modesty were nowhere near the heady heights of the Japanese mentality, would have been embarrassed to be seen in the state that I was currently in. I wouldn’t be surprised in the least to have been mistaken for drunk in the state I was in, staggering my way through the deserted corridor towards my room. When I had brought my luggage up earlier my room had seemed a lot closer to the lifts than it was now. It was taking me ages to get to the room, I was sure of it. I barged my way through my room door, managing to fumble my card thingy through the reader and stumbling into room and collapsing into my bed. I managed to flick my shoes off before the dark recesses of sleep took me in.
Welcome to the land of the garden gnomes. Famous last words if ever I heard some. Hopefully they wouldn’t be mine. In all seriousness though, I felt at home. If this was really the land of the garden gnomes then I was a garden gnome. It just feels a little weird to be taller than almost anyone else. Despite that, I accept the fact that I was a garden gnome with joy, seeing as I felt so at home here. This was the amusing welcome – and conclusion – I gave to myself as I sat on the sixty mile train journey into Tokyo proper. I had struggled to buy myself a ticket this morning, after I had managed to haul myself from the abyss that was my night’s sleep. The language barrier showed up in full force as I tried to negotiate myself a ticket to Tokyo, which was the first of my problems. I was unaware of this fact, but Tokyo was not just one city. At school we’d only ever mentioned Tokyo in passing, but it had always been mentioned as one place, one city. Technically though, it wasn’t even a city, let alone just one. Tokyo is a metropolis, a maze of houses and shops more than two thousand square kilometres in size. Two thousand square kilometres.
Some so-called cities in the UK are barely two square kilometres. The second biggest island in Hawaii is only one thousand square kilometres. Tokyo is bigger than some islands. Big islands, islands that people live on. However, I didn’t know this as I headed into the sprawling metropolis for the first time. So when the person at the ticket counter at the station asked where in Tokyo I wanted to go, I was a little bit thrown. I hadn’t even thought to research Tokyo before I came so I was more than a little bit worried. I had no idea where I wanted to go in Tokyo, especially because I didn’t really know what I wanted to do there.
In the end, I just took a ticket to the very centre of Tokyo, making my way into somewhere called Chiyoda-ku, which means Chiyoda ward, one of the twenty-three special wards of Tokyo. It is actually the centre ward of Tokyo, the centre of all the important things in Tokyo. I only decided to go there because there was an express train there from the airport. It is a bit like the Gatwick express in London. It was still a few hours, of course, it was quite a long way geographically, but it was a shorter journey than to get there by any other route. I was fairly excited getting onto the train. I was going into Tokyo and it was going to be the beginning of an awesome adventure.
The train was long and in more ways than one. There were five or six carriages on the train, so it was a couple of hundred meters long, but more than that, I had been on the train for two hours already, and I was a little bit bored. I hadn’t realized how big Tokyo really was before I arrived here. I had been on the train for two hours. We had arrived in Tokyo after about forty-five minutes, and for the last hour and a bit we had been in the metropolis itself. For that time I had seen only houses. I had caught a fairly brief glimpse of the ocean once or twice and we had gone over a river on the way in, but apart from those very brief glimpses of water I had seen nothing but housing – at least I think it was nothing but housing. The size of the place is truly indescribable to those who have never been there, and those who have been there know exactly what you are on about when you mention it. I was truly astonished by the sheer scale of the city, but an hour of watching houses pass by did mean that boredom was beginning to set in.
Unfortunately, I had nothing really to do to keep myself occupied. All the luggage I had was next to me on the seat, mostly because there wasn’t really space on the rack above my head. However, in there was nothing but clothing and a little bit of spare cash. Thus there really was little to relieve me of my boredom. I had no phone, as I felt there was no point in having one, seeing as I was on the other side of the world to anyone who would want to communicate with me and it would cost a bucket load to get in communication with me anyway. As I was sinking into the very depths of depression I spotted a glint of shine from across the surprisingly empty carriage. I grinned, getting to my feet and moving quickly along to the empty seat, ignoring the startled looks of the other passengers, smile broadening as my eyes alighted on what was lying there. Someone had forgotten a pen on the seat.
As the train pulled into Tokyo station I was absorbed. I had forgotten the joy of putting pen to paper in the mad rush that had enveloped me after my decision to leave. I had always loved drawing, but in the rush of voices and advice I had had so little time to do anything, let alone just sit and draw quietly. The piece of paper I had produced from my luggage was soon covered in sketches and doodles flowing over the page. The realization of my arrival was a jolt. I was left stuffing the piece of paper and the pen into my already laden luggage. I then grabbed said luggage and leapt off the train, worried about not managing to escape the train and having to carry on to realms unknown. The thought of being stuck in the middle of Tokyo without a great deal of money and absolutely no understanding of the language apart from the word for ‘thank you.’ I would not do well lost in Tokyo.
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