Happy New Year It’s that time of the year when families come together to celebrate Christmas and see in the New Year. We hope it has been a joyous occasion at your house – although I do know there are times when some of us wonder why we bother. The beginning of December seemed so far away from Christmas that, here at Eaglemount Books, thoughts of a newsletter and Christmas just did not share the same space at the same time, so the December newsletter went out without a Christmas message. Apologies… blame it on old age. Everything at Eaglemount Books appears to have ground to a halt. Both authors, Neive Denis and Kayla Danoli, have downed tools for the moment. Hopefully they will regain momentum sometime soon and there will be something more productive to report next month. SOME LIGHT READING
As there is little else to write about this month, and to provide you with a some light reading for any quiet moment you might find, this month’s ‘short’ story is a bit longer than usual. We hope it helps brighten your day…Enjoy! The Great Escape It was only the day after his birthday when Frank Bennett discovered 78 wasn’t any different from 77. The only difference today was he had one day less to spend amongst the living than he had yesterday. One day less to enjoy life before being called to shuffle off to meet his maker. Nothing else was different. The walls surrounding him today were the same ones that surrounded him yesterday. And here he was shaving in front of the same bathroom mirror, following the same routine as he did yesterday and every other day for some time now. “This will never do,” he told the bathroom mirror. After slapping on aftershave lotion and allowing himself a moment to enjoy its astringent tingle, he continued his conversation. “Nothing will come from depressing yourself like this so early in the morning. Leave it to this place to do it for you.” Despite his best efforts, his mood persisted through breakfast and he found himself revisiting memories. As he stood waiting for the toaster to do its thing, he shared those memories with it. “There was a time years ago when I was happy but those days are long gone. Sometimes, when it’s quiet, I can remember what my life was like before moving here to Melaleuca Park.” He shook his head in disgust. “Look at me. This is what I’m reduced to: conversing with a toaster. Well, my friend, as a toaster you’re okay, but when it comes to conversation, you’re woeful.” By mid-morning, Frank had convinced himself that, if he wanted things to change, he had to make it happen. As soon as he finished his ten o’clock coffee, he strode out across the courtyard to the administration building, dropping a mock salute to the security guard on his way out. No, he didn’t have an appointment, but made it clear to staff he was not leaving until he had spoken to the director. A bit over half an hour later, Frank again acknowledged the security guard when he returned to the unit block. At six o’clock, Frank stirred himself and crossed the corridor to his neighbour, Alex Chapman’s unit. Chapman was a sallow man who seemed to enjoy little in life except for Frank’s visit every afternoon. For up to an hour they would sit in Alex’s lounge room sipping a drink interspersed with long bouts of silence. Today was different. Alex appeared more alert and certainly more inclined to conversation. “I see you were brave enough to approach the lion in her den today,” Alex announced. Mystified by the cryptic comment, Frank didn’t know how to respond. “I’m sorry, Alex, but you’ve lost me. What did you mean?” “I assume you went to speak to the director. Where did that dash of bravado get you?” “As you might expect: nowhere. Foolhardy I know, but I went to tell her I wanted to be free to go into town on occasions. Of course, she produced all the documents that said I must not be allowed to do that; that it wasn’t safe for me to leave the unit block or be let out on my own. She just kept emphasising that the rules relating to my residing in this place were clearly spelled out in the documents, and that in the past, I had assured her I understood those rules.” “So, your meeting was a waste of time?” “Let’s just say that’s ten minutes of my life I’ll never get back to invest in something more satisfying.” “Frank, how come you’re living in this secure block of units anyway? Somehow, you don’t fit the profile.” “What profile? Oh, it’s a long story, but I’ll share the abbreviated version. After my wife died, my daughter held my Enduring Power of Attorney, and opted to exercise her authority when she assessed I was wasting too much of her future inheritance. She enlisted the aid of a friendly doctor – a quack – to have me certified as not capable of taking proper care of myself or my affairs, and in need of supervision. Armed with the relevant piece of paper, she had the men in white coats come and drag me off to this place, to this unit block which has a security guard posted at the door 24/7. The director, thanks to an annual ‘donation’ from my daughter - as well as the annual fees - interprets the documentation to mean I cannot leave this retirement home or even venture beyond the courtyard between here and the administration building.” “I always saw you as a somewhat more determined bloke. I’m surprised you’re still here.” That was Alex’s final comment before lapsing into a couple of minutes of silence. But he had ignited Frank’s curiosity. “Well, Alex, you don’t strike me as someone who is losing their marbles. How come you’re incarcerated in this prison block?” For a few moments, Frank wasn’t sure Alex had heard him. He was about to put his question again when Alex answered. “They are afraid I might say things, tell too much to the wrong people. But that’s another story. So you failed today. What’s your next move?” “I’m tired of living in this retirement home, in this prison block. I plan to escape. Here in Melaleuca Park, time is not measured in days or weeks, but by the number and frequency of hearses that come here. Any thoughts on a decent escape plan?” “Well, now you ask, I do. Like all good plans though, it will take some time to implement and requires sound preparations. And it does involve that large lump of lard who is one of the three who prevent our escape.” Over the next hour, Alex outlined his strategy. It involved becoming friendly with Jim, the overweight security guard. They implemented their plan the next day by taking coffee and a biscuit out to Jim for both morning and afternoon tea. After a week of that, they suggested he would be more comfortable joining them in Alex’s kitchen for coffee. Next, they invited Jim for an afternoon drink – surely just one wouldn’t hurt and nobody would know. Then it was the night of the football grand final, and Jim just happened to be on duty. They invited him to watch the game on Alex’s big TV. Frank confided to Alex, “I think my blood pressure is about to explode through the top of my skull. I’m sure the tension will kill me before the night is out. Do you really believe this will work?” “Trust me, Frank. Freedom is close. I’ve been adding ‘something special’ to Jim’s coffee and afternoon drinks ever since we initiated this plan. It's created a build-up in his system. Tonight’s game is a big event… And that demands a big dose of ‘something special’... several small doses over the course of the evening and one major dose at the end.” “Oh God, if you’re right – and everything goes to plan – at the end tonight’s game, we make a break for freedom. The only problem I see comes as we are leaving. Before we leave, we have to carry Jim back and sit him in his chair at the front door. I’m not sure we can lift him.” “Not a problem; that’s why I’ve always sat him in my gaming chair.” “It’s high back and is more comfortable for a big bloke like Jim?” “Well, yes – and it has castors.” Jim’s arrival curtailed further discussion. While Alex and Frank sat on one drink for the whole game, Jim downed at least three large ones, all laced with ‘something special’. Then there were coffees while they conducted the game’s post mortem. After that, Jim was slumped in his chair and out cold. “Show time!” Alex announced. He sprang up, grabbed Jim’s chair and started pushing it towards the door. “Lend a hand, please Frank. This bloke is every bit as heavy as he looks.” After struggling to transfer Jim onto his chair in the alcove near the front door, they returned to their respective units to collect their bags. Frank slipped his arms through the straps of his backpack and grabbed his bulging computer bag before taking one final look around. Then they locked their doors before silently hurrying out the front door. “This way,” Alex hissed as he tugged Frank’s arm. “We’ll follow the perimeter fence a short distance.” Without question, Frank followed Alex to the fence before asking, “Now what? How do we get out when the main gates are locked?” “Up there just a bit further, we go over the fence.” “Go over the fence…? It’s at least five feet high. I’m reasonably fit but, in case you haven't noticed, I’m not young anymore.” “Don’t worry. See up there, Mrs Weston’s mulberry tree’s branches reach over the fence. We’ll use the tree to help us go over.” Although minus a few bits of skin and puffing from the exertion, Frank felt no pain. He was outside Melaleuca Park and free… but not safe. The question Frank was about to ask evaporated when he looked over at Alex. His co-conspirator held a mobile phone to his ear. Residents of their unit block were not allowed phones. He waited until Alex switched off the phone. “Where did you get that?” he demanded, “And what happens now?” “I have ways and means… and a special friend who sends me gift baskets and hampers.” Alex replied as he started off along the outside of the fence. “A car is waiting for us a bit further up ahead. Just a short jog, Frank, and we will be away from here.” They threw their bags into the dark-coloured SUV and scrambled in after them. It raced away from the retirement village. After taking a few moments to get his breath back and his pulse rate under control, Frank asked, “So, Alex, what happens now?” “We are about to start our new lives. What do you want to know?” “Well, where we are going would be a good start, followed by what happens after we get there. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for everything so far, but I would like to know what to expect in my immediate future.” “Oh, did I neglect to explain all that to you? Never mind, it’s all straightforward from here. We are on our way to a house, a safe house, where we will grab a few hours of kip until morning. Then, after breakfast, you have an appointment with a solicitor.” “Why am I going to see a solicitor? I don’t want to go anywhere until I know my daughter’s whereabouts. Until I’m well away from here, the last thing I want is to bump into her again. And that goes for that obliging quack of hers as well.” “Don’t worry about the quack. He’s been struck off for his involvement in some unsavoury schemes, and is cooling his heels behind bars awaiting trial. He and your daughter became more than friends and she dumped her husband in favour of the quack. The authorities intended picking her up along with the doctor. Now, they’re asking the same question as you: where is she? It would appear she has disappeared.” “Do you mean she’s no longer likely to be in this district?” “I doubt she is hanging around anywhere close to here. So, relax. It’s also a fair bet she’s not at all interested in what’s happening with you at the moment. The solicitor you will see in the morning knows your story. He says it will be easy to reverse the situation created by your daughter and her friend. So, within a few days, or even hours, you again will be free to live your life however you wish, and once more to be spending your daughter’s inheritance.” It almost sounded too good to be true, but Frank was curious about Alex’s future as well. “It sounds as though I owe you an enormous debt of gratitude and we will discuss that sometime. What about you, Alex, what happens to you after breakfast tomorrow and into the future?” “Ah well, we probably won’t see each other again after you head off to the solicitor. Tomorrow, Alex Chapman disappears, and he begins a new life with a new name somewhere a long way from here… Somewhere my former employers don’t know about and where they won’t be able to get to me.” A myriad of questions ran through Frank’s mind but, before he could ask any, Alex ended their conversation. “Stay safe and enjoy your freedom. I know I will.” They proved the last words Frank ever heard from Alex – or whoever he became. The End
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