Legend of the Pah - 6 (S T Vasectomy Clinic)

 

Right now it didn’t matter that he was growing older. The very act of starting up his old motor and taking it out felt rebellious and liberating, he was fully in the moment, enjoying life, the world felt magical again, full of possibilities. It wasn’t far to the motorway; shall I? He thought but then the pegs of doubt pinched on his spirit, the depth of the domestic groove took away his power. Somehow he found the strength to shake it off, he sniffed vigorously and gripped the steering wheel. I will, he thought, I will go on the motorway, yes, why not. 

 

The car seemed to have some sort of control over him as he merged onto the inside lane then quickly crossed the middle lane to the outside, the fast lane. He ramped up the old radio but now it only played modern rubbish, a sort of rabid white noise for the over-stimulated masses. In the rear view mirror he saw a silver BMW approaching very quickly, it grieved him and at first he put his foot down and tried to put some space behind him but it didn’t feel safe. Reckless behaviour wasn’t typically part of his nature and it had a physiological effect on him in the form of a pinking sensation in his anus, a sort of twitch. He felt out of control now, he could see the driver’s face in the BMW, a mean guy in a black jacket with impatient body language. Alistair put his indicator on. 

 

The foul music on the radio had become intolerable. It was just as he turned it down that he became aware of another pinking sensation, this time in the engine, the Audi wasn’t a hundred percent happy. It was fortunate that only six miles existed between the junctions. He moved into the middle lane and sat there as a layer of sweat formed on his skin, like a piece of ham in a sandwich.

 

On the journey home, strange rattles were heard here and there, then the warning light came on for temperature. The engine was getting a bit too warm and he didn’t really know why, maybe it was the fuel mix he'd put in, plus he couldn’t remember whether he’d checked the water levels. He rolled home, mostly in low gears, occasionally gyrating his hips to keep the momentum, feeling that his bubble had burst before it had even become fully inflated. Who am I kidding, he said to himself as he attempted to pull into the garage.

 

He took the final few meters very slowly, just biting on the clutch. It was the best he could do to park it in a slightly different position to the one where the vehicle had been previously stationed. Now there was even less room available as he leveraged himself out of the driver’s seat, scraping his hip on the edge of the door. 

 

He grimaced as he entered the kitchen, starving hungry now, he ladelled some stewed chickpeas into a bowl and plonked down at the table.

 

‘What’s that smell?’ Lynne said breathlessly. She was dressed in leggings and a tight vest doing stretches on the lounge floor.

 

‘Didn’t you see me drive out?’

 

‘Oh, have you been out, Love? I meant to ask you to get me some redbush tea.’

 

‘Yes! In the Audi, I got it going again, took it for a spin round the block and then out on the motorway.’

 

‘Really? You should have called me, I would have enjoyed that Alistair. Honestly, why do you do that!’

 

‘Do what?’

 

‘Do things like that without telling me. I would have loved to have a ride in the Audi again. You didn’t even tell me you were leaving the house! Did you say the motorway? Crikey, you could have been killed!’

 

Alistair paused, gathered his thoughts and said, ‘Now there’s some confusion here. I thought you hated the car and wanted rid of it?’

 

‘Yes I do,’ she nodded, ‘but a farewell ride would have been nice.’

 

The chickpea curry was much tastier than Alistair had expected. ‘Is there any more?’ he said as he swallowed the last mouthful.

 

‘No.’ Lynne changed her demeanour suddenly, she let out a little cough, stuck out her chest and said, ‘If you’re not too gassy after that, we could go upstairs…’

 

This invitation came as a shock to Alistair, he got up and turned his back to her, making a play of boiling the kettle. It seemed that his private parts were suddenly under an enormous amount of pressure; pressure to perform, pressure to be inspected, talked about, butchered. He wasn’t sure that they would be up for any sort of action in the bedroom but at the same time, perhaps this was his last chance to have normal relations while everything was still intact.

 

‘I’m not sure Lynne. I feel a bit deadened down there since our discussion the other day…..I mean we could try if you want but I’ve sort of cut myself off in anticipation of the pain I suppose.’

 

‘Oh don’t be so dramatic Alistair. Thousands of men have it done, I bet half your colleagues have had it without so much as a whimper.’

 

‘Well, yes I believe some of them have.’

 

‘Only one more day until your consultation with Cece. She said she’d make sure that it was her that you spoke to since some of the other girls are less experienced and they might, I don’t know, spook you I suppose.’

 

‘Spook me?’

 

‘Perhaps that’s the wrong word, they just might not reassure you enough that’s all. Cece knows all about it, it’s her specialist subject, she lives and breathes male sterilisation.’

 

‘You’re coming with me though are you Lynne.’

 

‘Of course! I’ll come along. We could have dinner somewhere in town after, make an evening of it.’

 

Things seemed slightly more positive. Lynne was a little warmer, perhaps even sympathetic in her attitude towards his reluctance and this placed Alistair at ease and provided a sort of buffer between himself and the thought of the scalpel heading for his gonads.

 

The situation was awkward in bed however. He tried his best but his erection would only last seconds before it softened. It didn’t matter what or who he tried to visualise, the image would always include some medical instrument and after an exhausting battle with his own mind and body he was forced to give up and satisfy his wife via other avenues. There was a sense of failure though, as he lay on his back, his mind racing. Alistair felt as if his manhood was slipping through his fingers. 

 

For a couple of years he had occasionally witnessed strange lights on the bedroom ceiling in the early hours; green dots, red circles, spinning and darting like mobile crop circles. He wasn’t sure if it was a figment of his imagination since they typically appeared when he was anxious. Tonight they were putting on a good show. Many times he had tried to find some plausible explanation for it but so far the mystery eluded him. It wasn’t worth mentioning it to Lynne, she would only think he was losing his mind and it was inevitable that if he tried to show her the lights would stop suddenly just as soon as she tried to see them. Perhaps they were just a hallucination, ghosts even, maybe it didn’t even matter what they were.

 

He watched for a while until his eyelids grew heavy and he fell asleep but his dreams followed the theme of unfruitfulness. The first one featured the heavy presence of a sea cucumber, lying in shallow water, doing nothing much but squirting the occasional cloud of something thin and weak looking. It was accompanied by a sort of faint, unsatisfying “pah” sound. The second dream was about the Audi and not being able to start the engine again, he tried over and over but the vehicle simply made pathetic noises, became lifeless and suddenly covered in brown rust. 

 

There followed a series of exhausting dreams, a blinkshow of short films all featuring impotent machinery; lawn mowers, food processors, equipment Alistair used in his work all stuttering and failing with the same accompanying sound, a faint “pah”. A sort of bum note of failure, a non musical note that indicates, without any doubt, a loss of power. Finally he had a nightmare that he was at work and desperate to urinate, he rushed to the toilet and stood there waiting for release but there was pain, a sort of blockage. He found himself unable to pee and the pain was unbelievable. He looked down at his manhood and something was very wrong, it looked like a…...

 

He woke up gasping and in urgent need of the toilet. Lynne was already up and doing stretches in her dressing gown. ‘I made you a cup of tea,’ she said. ‘I tried to wake you but you were in a very deep sleep Alistair, is everything okay?’