The Circus - Chapter Two

Chapter 2 - Summer 1986

James sat in his room thinking about what had happened, how he had come to be sitting in this place. He was positioned on the light, metal framed bed which was covered in a blue blanket, topped with a white folded sheet. His suitcase sat next to him, his worldly belongings consisting of some old clothes which had been donated and a few magazines he had acquired over time.

Leaning on his knees he tried to think about what it was going to be like, having to fend for himself with nobody to watch over him. He had made some good friends, his longest stay anywhere. Georgina was nice to talk to; she always spoke kindly about her family and on a daily basis would produce photographs from years gone by.

James had seen them every day for the last five years he had been a resident. Then there was Norman, or ‘Nutty’ Norman as James referred to him. He could re-count everyday of his time during World War Two, but absolutely nothing about what happened last week. Like Georgina, Norman would tell the same story over and over again, but James would never get tired of hearing D-Day stories, impossible to find those sorts of tales boring, he thought.

He thought the medical staff were nice, they were polite and would not necessarily pump him with medication just because they could, though times had changed and this was the eighties. James cast his mind back to the other institutions he had been in, to the days when physical torture or ‘care’ as they used to refer to it back then, would result in him being spaced out for days on end. Nowadays, it was different, he was able to sit across a table from a doctor or therapist and discuss what happened without fear of having electrodes attached to parts of his body or having a syringe shoved into yet another vein in his arm.

His recollection of the last twenty years rolled around inside his mind, he then started to think about his family. His mother had visited a couple of times during the early years, but then she stopped coming. Soon after that the letters began to slow down until they finally stopped as well. At least his younger sister continued to visit, he noticed how much weight she gained, though he never mentioned it, but then to his relief she seemed able to shed the weight after a while and get back to her normal slim looking self. James kept the picture of his sister in his mind for a while, he tried desperately to remember the reason she stopped visiting. She did explain to him one day why she would not be able to come and see him any longer, that was about six years ago now, but James just could not remember. It wasn’t like she just stopped coming, as his mother did, no Margaret had a good reason for not visiting anymore, he could still recall her smiling face sitting opposite him, but he could not remember her words.

James had spent years thinking of why he had ended up in a place like this, he understood it must have been a difficult decision for his mother to make, to send him away. He could not blame her for that, he needed help after all. At first he shut himself away from everybody else in the village, the staring eyes, the quiet mumblings about what had happened to Robert, he just could not take it anymore and so he thought it would be best to be out of the gossips eyes. Then, after a while he started to skip school, which did not sit well with his mother or the authorities who pleaded with Mrs. Fuller to either persuade James to return to school or pay for home tutoring, which was obviously out of the question for a single mother with two kids.

James tried to get a summer job, there were so many let downs because people just did not trust him, but eventually he got work on a local farm. He had been doing well, “a good, hard worker,” he remembered the farmer commenting to his mother one day, but then the head lad in the yard mentioned Robert one day, not in an inquisitive or sensitive way, but in the tormenting kind of way. James sobbed, running all the way home. He recalled yet again how he would be called a liar, a freak and a weirdo.

It was inevitable, but it happened. One day he just decided to shut himself away from his family, he stopped communicating with them. James lifted his head up from his hands as he sat in the small room, he thought about the times he had tried to hurt himself, especially the day when the local postman on his rounds found him on the grass verge near the woods trying to pluck up the courage to pierce his stomach with a pair of garden shears. That was when his mother decided to act, that she could take no more of this. She sent him away. She thought she was doing good, James thought, but it would never take away that terrible day. How could he tell anybody about it? Look where that had got him doing that.

James stared at the sunlight beaming through the small window, the shadow on the floor displaying the thick iron bars that stood a few inches from the pane of glass. Then his attention was drawn to the corridor outside where the footsteps could be heard. Weak at first, James listened intently as they got closer and louder, the heavy rubber heels squeaking down onto the freshly polished floor. Then they stopped. A moment passed, James held his breath and then he heard a shuffle of papers. The metal wicket in the centre of the locked door slid to one side and a familiar face peered in through the tiny hole. It was a grinding sound at first and then the dull thud as the lock was released on the door. Finally, it swung open and it felt to James as though all the negative energy was released from the small room. The familiar face smiled in and James returned the warm greeting as he rose to his feet, clasping his suitcase tightly in his hand.

“You ready?” asked the white clad, male nurse.

“I think so, Andy.”

Now it was James’ heels that squeaked down the corridor, through four secured gates until he reached the reception area where the release documents were signed. James was handed an envelope containing a small amount of re-settlement money and documentation to assist him with applying for benefits, housing and other kinds of support he could receive from the local council.

Then, the moment he had been waiting for, not just over the last month or so when he was told he would be leaving for good, the moment he had been waiting for the last twenty years. At the grand entrance he turned and shook hands with Andy who had been looking after him since his stay here.

“You take care of yourself, James,” Andy said smiling.

“I will. And thank you for everything.”

“Don’t mention it; just remember if things get a little rocky and they probably will, you got the tablets.”

James nodded and then strode out through the thick wooden doors into the sunlight. His foot crunched down onto the gravel, he squinted up to look at the bright sun and then he breathed in deep, it was so good. Walking down the long gravel driveway towards the metal gates, James looked around at the trees, the fields beyond and in that moment he decided he needed to return to the village. It was a spontaneous moment where suddenly after years of ’being cared for he had decided that the best way to combat his fears was to return to the place where it all happened. James walked out of the gates onto the main road; he looked up at the sign, “PINEWOOD PSYCHIATRIC UNIT”.

He smiled and then in an instant the fear and despair gripped him as he knew he was all alone.

The journey to the village took about two hours, he had changed trains twice and by the time he got to the station he was tired. James stood in front of the station sign.

“Brookhampton. It’s kind of strange to be home!” he said to himself.

James felt weird inside, it had been a long time since he had been home and as he made the decision to leave the station platform his walk revealed the many changes which had taken shaped during his time away.

Brookhampton had once been a rural village, a few shops, a couple of pubs, a post office but nothing much else. The village had now grown, the old country roads were still there, but it was now a small town which had spread across the landscape with new developments. It took about ten minutes for James to walk into the centre of town, he just followed the sing. He was intrigued as he did not remember Brookhampton having a ’town centre‘, just a row of shops. To his amazement he saw row upon row of glass fronted out-lets, highly decorated and displaying colourful items in the windows. Household names that had taken up home in the small town. The town centre bustled with people going about their daily business, a few times James was unaware of his surroundings as he spied the new shops and he was soon brought back to reality as he was jolted out of the way by an impatient shopper.

He started to feel panic as more and more people came towards him. Then he noticed an alleyway to his left, Buxtons Alley. It was a short cut he used to take with Robert when they wanted to get to the woods from the shops after spending their pocket money. His mind drifted again, he started to think about Robert for the first time on his return and then suddenly another shopper barged into him sending James sprawling onto the floor, suitcase in hand. Scrabbling to his feet and dodging the shoppers, James dived into the Buxtons Alley. Looking behind he saw crowds of people walking by the mouth of the alley, nobody looked in at him and then as the crowd became thinner he gazed across to the opposite side of the road. He saw the small boy looking back at him, James drew in a deep breath, his eyes widened and it felt as though his heart was going to jump out of his chest. It could not be, he thought.

There on the opposite sided of the road in a black cardigan with grey knee length shorts was Robert and he started to walk across the main road to the alley. James frantically bent down trying to unclip his suitcase; he remembered what Andy had told him. His fingers could not grip the clips, he glanced up and saw that Robert was standing at the entrance to the alley, the crowd of people continued to walk behind the small boy but they were a blur as James looked on, it was as though Robert was gliding across the floor towards him.

Suddenly the suitcase flipped open and James fumbled about for the small box of white tablets, still staring at Robert who was gliding slowly forward. As Robert got closer, James noticed his wet, black matted hair, face bright white with blue markings, like a bruise and deep blackened eyes staring straight at him. Finally, James managed to unclip the top of the tablet box, looking down he tipped a couple of white capsules into his hand and then popped them into his mouth. He swallowed hard, though this was made more difficult due to the dryness of his throat. He closed his eyes and bowed his head away from the approaching figure.

“Go away, please go away!” he screamed.

The hand came down onto his shoulder and James jumped back landing hard on his backside, his still had his eyes closed as he waved his arms about in front of his face, his elbows were locked as fear gripped his body.

“Go away!” He screamed louder this time.

Slowly he opened his eyes, at first it was a blur but he could still see the figure standing there, then his sight began to improve and he found he was looking at a middle aged lady dressed in a blue fleece coat and jeans.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, James packed up the clothes and magazines that had spilled onto the floor rose to his feet and ran in the opposite direction, away from the town centre and up Buxtons Alley until the path bent left and he was out of sight from the female.

Disregarding all the new constructions in the town, James knew Buxtons Alley would lead him down to the river road and then eventually up to the wood, he decided that was where he was going to head, it would probably be the safest place for him to stay.

The woods where he and Robert used to play as children may hold the answer to his problems.