A short story. Young female doctoral student conducts interviews with a retired Captain from Australia for her PhD in Clinical Psychiatry.
The Thames Café (Barking, United Kingdom)
By: DeMaster Thomas
June 2008
...another day at the Thames Cafe...
Clacking keys:
Life that is always spent being examined, takes away from life that
could be spent living. While examination is important to personal health and
wellness, there is ample place and time for this purpose.
And so there I was standing in the middle of the desert on
the hottest day of the year, drowning in a pool of my own existence. What was
to become of me? How did I get here? Am I dead? If so, this is definitely hell.
If not, this is definitely hell or the divine’s idea of a sick joke. Either
way, in order to understand where I was going, I had to go back to the
beginning. I had to go back to where it all started. After all, it’s not about
where I’m going, it’s about where I want to end up.
This is my daily prayer…the Lord’s Prayer with ad-libitum, which in my temporal existence seemed remedial; a call for the rapture. Yes, only a one-minute period in infinite history; I had concluded humanity had reached its peak; its boiling point of no return and only an incredible art of unconditional fortitude could reprieve such a travesty. Even if I were correct in my so-called faulty logic, it appeared the only one left standing was I. Oh to loathe one’s own existence merely because fear and shame shadow excellence and the pursuit of greatness; is simply a life left crestfallen.
But enough about me-oh wait. This is about me. The only subject I know everything and nothing about. (He smiles and laughs to himself)
Oh don’t wither your nose at me. As if you are any better. I laugh out loud at the mere thought of such a thing. But I digress. Where was I? Oh yes. Where it all began. Well, let me see. I guess you could say I was an international bum. Born in Australia, educated in England and moved to the States on scholarship before most in their country can complete Secondary (eh, heh). Brilliant? Oh yes. I was brilliant alright. Brilliant enough to charm the skivvies off any lad who dared stare Mayfair in the eye without a quiver!
Sparkling chap, I was not. To say the least, my vanity was only; literally, only skin deep. Mind me no ugly duckling neither. I could dance, sing, folly with the most and courting was of little effort of somewhat gainful return. I’m only grinning devilishly because the memories are still fresh on my tongue. The perfumes of so many, the flesh of so much indulgence still gird my loins. My apologies I…I needed a moment. Where was I? Oh yes. The run of a scam to boot and butterscotch rum, sweetbread and a lil bit of 'how’s your father'. Ah yes. Those were the days. A legend in me own you say? No, not I, said the Captain. I am full! Full of pride! Full of gusto! Full of –
Captain was abruptly interrupted by his aging, nagging wife. Jealous of the student's time and beauty.
Oh shut-up you old goat! No one’s talkin’ to the likes of ya! Can’t you see I’m busy?
Ah, for the love of Pete. I tell you, that woman will be the
death of me. Excuse me for a moment. Please, help yourself to more crisps, cakes, chocs. There’s plenty, eh.
What! Who? What do they want? So what. Tell them
we don’t want any and to piss off! Can’t you…
Captain gets up, goes over to another table where his wife is sitting, chatting on her cell phone.
Give me the ringer. (He takes the phone from her hand)
Look. I told you a thousand times over we haven’t got your stinkin’ money so stop calling here and blow it your arse!
Oh yes. Yes. Thank you. Damn phone buzzes off the hook by golly. If it’s not the HMRC or a bailiff, it’s someone trying to sell you something. You mark my word the blooming idiot who invented tele-sales is sitting in hell right now getting bitch slapped by every passer of the gate you mark my word!
Right along with all of the pills of our so-called modern
society. Hmph. Donny, Harpo, Billy Buffet of sorts. What say you? His name is
Warren? Who cares. You get the point. I am merely speaking of those who I’ve
seen profit heavily from our hard-working citizens and give back what
apparently seems to be not enough. But I digress.
(The wife is ready to leave)
Oh, I can’t do this now. Let us meet in the morrow and we shall continue this foreboding fantasy ride into my past forthwith shall we? Okay runner off now. Good evening.
I said – good evening.
````
Understanding now that Captain was a fanatic of his own twopence worth, she was prepared to let him carry on without interruption this time. She continued her interview the next day as planned.
Clacking keys:
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