Who Would've Thought
Though this tale's simply my creation, and the characters
fictional, I hope you’ll find it worthwhile,
'Cause it’s another attempt to convey what I hope will prove of value,
via poetical style.
Yes, a tale dealing with harsh realities, but it not without a
certain positivity,
'Cause though this world oft depresses and distresses, there’s still joy
for those who respond creatively.
Jamie couldn’t hold his liquor, hence the fights, nights behind bars, and all too frequently, job losses,
They being the product of mood swings — yes, drugs as well as booze, hence those words, “You’re fired!” from many bosses.
Well, the time came when no one would employ him, and being without friends, he hit the road heading south,
With nothing but a backpack slung over his shoulder, the clothes he wore, and cigarette in his mouth.
He figured he’d find work somewhere, that being anywhere, and a few lifts later it was Melton,
A town amongst the many dotting the countryside between the cities Greendale and Harrington.
There he found work in a timber yard, lodgings in the company’s bunkhouse, a friend as rough as he,
Who shared his love affair with whisky and hash — a right pair of misfits at odds with society.
And once again the fights, nights behind bars, but this time not alone, 'cause the two were as thick as thieves,
Every moment spent in pubs or brothels, and money thus falling from their hands like autumn leaves.
Thus “You’re fired!” echoing just as often, but this time two heading out the gate, and eventually,
Two hitting the road in search of a new town, various jobs and lodgings, 'till Harrington city.
Play with fire and you'll get burnt by fire, and so it was with Jamie’s mate Paul, who, midst a drunken brawl,
Pulled a knife on someone with a hidden gun, who fired at his chest, and which saw him fatally sprawl.
And there, cradled in Jamie’s arms (now beside himself with grief), Paul dropped his head in finality,
Which left Jamie feeling as angry as ever, and more so, yet sobered by the reality.
He hitting the road again, but this time in a big rig, a danger to all using same roads,
Inner demons and a hangover just waiting to explode, and on someone dump their angry loads.
Thus those eighteen wheels driven by an inner rage hitting Tombstone corner at twice the cautioned speed,
Dispensing with its occupant as if he were a rag doll, serious injuries guaranteed.
And he not alone, 'cause the occupants of the vehicle he’d hit on his way, were injured too,
Though thankfully more shaken than injured, their shadows now coming into his barely conscious view.
And if it wasn’t for the quick thinking and training of these ones who were now coming to his aid,
He would’ve soon occupied underground quarters purposely sculptured by a sharp, shiny spade.
Hospital’s not a pleasant place to be, more so when a court appearance awaits, and oh dear me,
What awaited Jamie wasn’t hard to guess, and jail not likely to improve his mentality.
But Jamie was learning a thing or two, even though such was taking its time, and somewhat fog bound,
And within that hospital, and by his beside, a very level-headed nurse was often found.
One who very early had got the measure of the man, 'cause Jamie wasn't one for etiquette,
His grievances still showing despite his injuries, as if not prepared to let the world forget.
Yes, shunted between orphanages, abused, accused, and treated harshly, deprived of loving care,
A ship without a rudder, a tree devoid of roots, his loss, hurt and pain, loud, raw and crystal-clear.
Janet knew hurt too, but had focussed on relieving the lot of others who were just as needy,
Knowing that what we can’t change is better accepted and left behind, lest it bring more misery.
And in her own gentle but firm way, such she tried to convey, her manner helping the months go by,
'Cause emotional and physical healing can take time, and the best of intentions can defy.
But little by little, kindly ways, carefully chosen pithy words, and obvious empathy,
Slowly chipped at the granite that held Jamie prisoner, a fortress he’d defended vigorously,
Though Jamie now appreciating those visits that tended to his emotional wounds as well,
But wondering why a different voice was disrupting his sleep today, aided via the morning bell.
It seemed as if someone had kicked him in the stomach, he gasping for breath, and the chiseller gone,
An intoxicated driver, they said, she killed instantly — oh, how those words echoed on and on.
And though the replacement nurse was nice enough (they all dedicated), she was hardly Janet Hall,
The victim of a drunken speedster, the irony not lost on Jamie, whose fist oft thumped the wall.
Well, the day came when Jamie appeared before a judge, his attorney a contact of Janet Hall,
Who, thanks to Janet’s pre-death pleadings on Jamie's behalf, now implored the judge make a merciful call.
And he, being a kind man, like Janet’s contact, and aware of the unfairness of life that strikes many,
(And given Jamie's long court history), responded to Jamie’s situation creatively.
Rather than prison, and given there’d been no deaths, nor serious maiming, and bearing in mind too
That insurance had covered the rig, and the other vehicle, and that Jamie had suffered too,
Jamie would spend the next two years running a large shelter for the homeless, and during those two years,
Was not to touch liquor and drugs, nor re-offend — and there, he’d be paid, and aided by volunteers.
Well, Jamie was savvy enough to know that such was a generous offer, one not to refuse,
And there, he would be with fellow sufferers, who for months on end, even years, that shelter would use.
And there, with energy lost in others, and Janet’s words in mind, he began to mature, heal,
And in time, given the sad tales that he heard there, he for the plight of others began to fight and feel.
Jill was such a case, she forty plus, and here they were talking late into the night as others slept,
Something about her and her sad tale reaching deeply into Jamie’s soul, where inwardly he wept.
Things had started off well, she the pretty bride, the boy next door the handsome groom, both very happy,
And with time there came a humble cottage, a nice business, and three kids, each fed, clothed, loved and healthy.
Well, as so oft happens to the dreams of many, given we live in a world that’s broken, jagged,
A recession hit, the business flopped, and out of the repossessed cottage, a boozy husband staggered,
Along with a tearful wife and distressed children, who in time witnessed their father dealing in drugs,
Such leading to his demise, his untimely death assured when he double-crossed some neighbourhood thugs.
Jill, beside herself with grief, fear, and devoid of income, turned to thievery and prostitution,
'Cause though such was contrary to her will, standards, nature, such seemed to be the only solution.
Much could be said here, but circumstances and situations are quite another thing, and who’re we
To sit in judgment and condemn, and more so, where an individual has suffered so badly.
And suffer she had, 'cause her three barely school age children were permanently removed from her care,
And she, left to find her own way through the fog that now engulfed, hence why at shelters she’d oft appear.
What would one do without these havens that in fact shame society, 'cause such a need shouldn't be,
Oh, that corporate and general greed, selfishness and indifference that plagues humanity.
Yes, there's much misfortune, so much sadness, many ills that afflict (not to mention our own folly),
And it all the result of living in a world that bites, and midst chaos that wasn't meant to be.
The strain showed on Jill’s face, her eyes a window to her pain, pain that no curtain hid, it palpable,
And regarding those personal details coming from her, there were no doubt more things that she could tell.
'Cause there in that world where people live on the streets, under bridges, in parks, and down cold, dark alleys,
There’re many human shipwrecks, victims of cruel wind whipped waves that oft surge across life’s stormy seas.
There was a long pause. Jamie sought to fill the gap. “Have you seen your kids since?” “No, never,” she replied.
And Jamie’s hand moved to her arm, tears welling up in those curtainless windows, and gently she cried.
“I’m so sorry,” Jamie whispered. And there was another long pause. “Say, what were your children’s names, Jill?”
She dabbed her eyes with the offered hanky. “Paul, Janet and Jamie,” she replied, and Jamie went still.
She dabbed at the moisture again, disbelief showing on Jamie’s shocked face. “And your husband’s name, Jill?”
“Bruce, Bruce Hall.” “Really? That’s my last name,” Jamie choked, “Hall, I mean.” And now it was her turn to go still.
How could words describe what happened next, though their joy was marred, 'cause life seldom has fairytale endings,
But rather, batters with reality, cold hard facts — such being, commonly marred or tragic endings.
Thus there’s oft salt in the sugar — in other words, pain midst our joy, our joy seemingly on crutches,
'Cause in this world that’s groaning with decay, there’s little that trouble, heartache and pain never touches.
And such being so in their case — yes, pain mingled with joy, 'cause their happiness was marred by their loss,
And that loss deep, a loss that went well beyond life’s common sandpapers that remove some surface gloss.
But despite that loss, there was truly joy, a mother and son reunited, with much more to share,
And share they did, Jill joining her son in the running of the shelter, where so many would appear.
And midst them, a young woman who caught Jamie’s eye, one who looked a lot like his sister (nurse Janet),
And who in Jamie’s eyes (and indeed his life), soon appeared as if the only one on the planet.
He was well and truly smitten — and she, soon joining the mother and son team, a team that remained there,
Reaching out to the down and outers, a highly regarded shelter where all received loving care.
And that same loving care visited Jill in the form of another suitor, who, regularly,
Contributed to the needs of the shelter, and in time, shared his wealth in holy matrimony.
Thus what once began well, but went amiss with time, finished well, though it not a fairytale ending,
'Cause though a brighter future was found, there was still those losses, a sadness that wouldn’t be ending.
That is to say, that their new found joy would always be mingled with sadness, 'cause how could such not be,
Given that some things never fade, but remain in the mind, 'cause who'd want to forget their family?
And that’s how it so often is, 'cause as mentioned before, we live in a world that’s cruel and unfair,
And why acceptance of such is crucial, that we may roll with the punches, not give in to despair.
For most, it’s all about seeking joy midst the sadness and pain, and though wounded, continuing on,
Thus making the most of life, despite crippling punches, and before our three score years and ten are gone.
And who knows what’s around the corner, 'cause life can also surprise with the pleasant, bring us much joy,
And in Jamie’s case (a very different man), it wasn’t long before his wife produced a boy.
A Paul and Jamie look-a-like — and all being well, his future would be a bright one, his sibling’s too,
'Cause not too further down the track, Jamie's wife produced a darling daughter — that's right, number two.
And so it oft is, that midst our losses, there are certain gains — and here, replacements, seemingly,
In the form of Jamie’s children, something not lost on Jill, who treated them most affectionately.
You can put your hanky away now, it but a story, though designed to encourage hope midst pain,
Whilst at the same time, primarily dealing with the harsh facts of life, 'cause midst sunshine there’s oft rain.
Hence the statement, “That’s life,” and so it is, made better or worse by our choices, our response to things,
A valuable lesson that we can learn from nature itself, 'cause you know, even the caged bird sings.
And yes, who would've thought...
By Lance Landall
This poem was penned November 2011 and upgraded on 25 October 2022.
