SHORT STORY

I was walking home one night from a choir practice, and I suppose I cannot have heard it. I have always been rather deaf and this may have been the cause. Anyway, it hit me. It was a car, but I do not know anything else. There was a sudden flash and then - well, I don't know quite what happened!

At first I thought I was somewhere else. But it did not seem like any place I had seen before, and then I realised it. It was Budleigh Salterton all right, but with a difference!

Where the buildings used to be there was nothing but craters, as if large bombs had been dropped. Only a few small bits of ruin were left. In one of these I saw for the first time a glimmer of light.

You can imagine I was bewildered, even terrified, by this sight. The only thing to do was to seek shelter, as it was very cold. I walked over to the place and knocked on the charred door. An old lady opened it and then gasped, "John!”

I was so surprised that at first I did not realise that her face seemed familiar. But my thoughts were interrupted by her saying again, “It's John!” and then she smiled and invited me in.

Then the astonishing thing became clear; the old lady bore a striking resemblance to my mother.

I did not say anything as she led me through the familiar hall and into the kitchen. I did not want to do so before I found out what had happened in so short a time (as it seemed to me) before I had been walking home that night. She was still talking as she brought me some food. She was saying, “I am so sorry for what I said. It was very silly of me."

Then, she added in a sorrowful voice, " But one can excuse it the day being what it is."

"What do you mean?" I said, speaking for the first time because I had been struck dumb by the peculiarity of my welcome.

Then came the staggering reply. "Thirty years ago tonight my twelve year old son was knocked down by a car. He was taken to Budleigh hospital, and the injuries were found to be serious. However, he eventually recovered and went back to Exmouth Grammar School. The doctors had frequent checks. After about two years it was found that he had a brain haemorrhage resulting from the accident. He died in six months. Then, three years afterwards, the invasion of Britain started, and my husband was killed in action. This is the only house left here. I get food myself." Here she became overwhelmed and I could do nothing to comfort her. However, she recovered to say, "I thought you were my son, but I suppose, it's because I only see very few children."

I dreaded to ask her the name of the boy, but just as I was about to do so, the whole picture seemed to fade before my eyes.

I heard somebody say, " He's awake, Doctor ".

The picture became clear again, and I saw my mother before me. Not the old lady, but my mother as I knew her. I must have shouted with the pain, a sudden terrible pang in my leg, because somebody injected me with some drug, which put me to sleep instantly.

When I awoke again, I still had the memory of the old lady on my mind, though I was more concerned with the present.

I found out from my mother and father that I had had a car accident on my way home from choir practice. The driver of the car that had knocked me down did not realise that he had done so and I had somehow staggered home. I had appeared to have been awake, but had only spoken some delirious words to my mother.

Then followed six long months of recovery until I eventually returned to school.

Two years have passed since that incident, but I still vividlyemember it.

Shall I be dead in six months time, and all my friends in three years? Or was it just a terrible nightmare?

Only time can tell.

M. VERNON-ROBERTS (2X).