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TORN CHAPTER THREE (PART 1)

by Joella 

Posted: 18 April 2010
Word Count: 1649
Summary: Ben has to overcome the trauma of what happened at school. Trying to put the events out of his mind, he focuses on his relationship with his mother and laments the loss of his father.


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CHAPTER 3 (Part 1)

Resting on the bed in the medical room, I closed my eyes. Sirens sounded. Police, fire and ambulance crews were now on site unraveling the true nature of the ‘emergency.’

Mr Dodds entered with a cup of tea, said Mrs Dyke was on her way, at which point she walked in through the door. Whilst I received first aid Mr Dodds said he’d ‘nip off to check on things.’ I received kind words and sympathy whilst Mrs Dyke examined my wound. I was warned the antiseptic cream would sting, but it didn’t animate the agony as much as the opening and closing of my fingers. Eyes smarted, she apologised, said it was a case of being cruel to be kind, which of course it was. As she left, commenting that she hoped this was the last time we met under such circumstances, Mr Dodds returned. Pulling up a chair, ‘Sorry, Ben,’ he said, solemnly.
‘For what?’
‘For not finding you sooner. It now appears that Mr Meadows was duped by Cappy into believing the toilet block was empty.’
‘It’s not your fault,’ I insisted. ‘How could you have known what Cappy was up to? As a matter of interest ... how did you suss it?’
‘Vince,’ he revealed, somewhat hesitantly. ‘He ummn ... found out about it.’
Drawing a breath, intending to probe his vague response, a sudden painful spasm diverted my attention. As I sucked in air through gritted teeth, a concerned Mr Dodds asked what he could do. With face contorted, I couldn’t speak. A few short sharp breaths later, back in control, I was quizzed about the injury to my hand. Discovering the identity of my tormenter, rendered Mr Dodds speechless.
‘He was drunk,’ I explained. ‘I’ve said before, the man’s an alcoholic. He lost the plot when I refused to apologise. It was madness to think I could play him at his own game. I should have walked away.’

The revelation rocked Mr Dodds perception of events. Visibly incensed, he said he’d investigate, promising that Potts wouldn’t get away with what he’d done. Up on his feet, he forced a smile then walked off, muttering under his breath. Relaxing back on the pillow, it came as great relief, to hear Mrs Dyke talking to the one person I most wanted to see. When grandpa’s eyes met with mine, his expression said everything. Mrs Dyke, reading his anguish, took him to one side for a quiet word, whilst I prepared to leave.

Grandpa and I were so well connected that each seemed to know when the other most needed silence and a comforting smile. The journey back to Merryfields was one such occasion. I was exhausted, grandpa was angry, but as always, my welfare was his primary concern. Home at last, standing in the hall, Grandpa embraced me, gently. Visibly upset, he said he was sorry, but I immediately contested that the apology was mine: I should have taken his advice.

I needed time, needed my own space and retired to the sanctuary of my room. Reclining on the bed, I blocked all images of the day’s events and gave no thought to their consequences. What was done, was done and I had no regret.

Drawn to the photograph beside my bed, I buried all anguish by focusing upon the lost memory of my father. Here we were sat astride his Vincent Black Shadow motorbike. His untimely death was lamentable, but what I wouldn’t have given to jealously conjure a memory to complement the framed image.

I came across the photo whilst rummaging in an under stairs cupboard, a year or so ago. Sadly, further searches met with disappointment because my mother was vehemently opposed to the mention of my father’s name and forbid the display of photographs or trinkets that bore any connection with him. I refused to give up the photo I’d found, promising to keep it concealed in my room. My mother conceded, but still her attitude caused bitter resentment for I longed to embrace my father’s memory.

I dozed for a while, regaining consciousness when grandpa arrived to sit in the chair beside the window. I smiled, mind reflecting upon those early days at Merryfields. It was no less comforting then than it was now, to hear a kindly greeting from a man who cared much more for my welfare than he did his own.
‘Are you okay, son?’ he asked softly.
‘Yeah. I’ll be fine,’ I replied, faking a confidence.
‘Do you want me to phone mum?’
‘No. What’s the point? Besides, she’ll be home tomorrow.’
He nodded in agreement, stood to stretch his legs, winked, then left to prepare lunch.

Languishing, a while longer, my mother came to mind. Despite everything, I loved her, of course, but we weren’t close. I didn’t feel welcome in her world and there were times when I felt responsible for her melancholy existence. We never enjoyed physical affection: I had no recollection of her ever giving me a kiss or cuddle. There were times when I thought she wanted to, but just couldn’t bring herself to do it. With so little in common, it was difficult to engage in meaningful conversation. She loved me though, I never doubted that she loved me, just wished she could find a way to show it.

Grandpa called and I responded by joining him in the kitchen. The casserole had been lovingly prepared, but I had no appetite. Picking over chunky vegetables and beef, I asked grandpa what we should tell mum?
‘The truth,’ he replied, earnestly. ‘We’ll have to tell her the truth.’
‘Will you talk to her, Grandpa? Could you talk to her before she sees me?’
‘I could, but I think you should, son. She won’t be angry, she’ll want to help you.’ My sour expression, had him add, ‘Don’t be hard on your mother, Ben. People handle bereavement in different ways. Maybe one day you’ll come to understand her better.’
‘Mmn,’ I mused, forking a piece of carrot. ‘If I had a son, I’d never ignore him. I’d love him. Let him know that I loved him. Be a father to him...’
‘Your mother’s lost a husband she loved ...’ he reminded, sternly.
‘And I lost a father, I never really knew... ‘ I replied, bitterly.
Our eyes met in a fragile moment of poignant reflection. Grandpa had lost a much loved son. The atmosphere fragmented, words were difficult, but I had an overwhelming urge to say, ‘Sorry’. The apology had barely left my lips, when grandpa was on his feet. I stood up too, receiving a warm embrace and the confession that he was sorry too. Neither had a dry eye, such was our respective sorrow and regret. Faith restored, grandpa returned to sit at the table, whilst I busied myself making a pot of tea.
‘I should have told you about the bullying, a long time ago,’ I said, setting down two cups on the table. ‘Mum won’t understand why I didn’t.’
‘She will,’ he insisted. ‘Your mother will know, and in life you will learn, son, that there are times when you hide things, even lie, because the truth is too painful. Sometimes you’re not even conscious of it, but believe me, it always catches up with you in the end.’

I was mulling over what he’d said when the phone rang. It was Mr Dodds, eager to know how I was. He informed me that an emergency meeting of the Manor’s Governing body had been called and wanted me to clarify what happened in the Deputy Head’s office. I recalled details as I remembered them and he promised everything would be sorted, reiterating how sorry he was for what had happened.

Whilst grandpa napped in a fireside chair, I returned to rest in my room. My eyes slid along a shelf of books. My love of literature is something else grandpa instilled in me. In my younger years, he always read me a bedtime story, though I loved more the ones he made up. I’m a real fan of classic works, studied English literature at school, became an avid reader, then there were times when there was little else to do. I invested much time and energy riding and schooling my horse. There was always much preparation before competitions and in the menage, grandpa was always there to offer advice and encouragement. Riding was something I did as often as I could. Increasingly these days however, I rode alone. Grandpa, now past three score years and ten, said his bones were getting too old and rarely had the energy for such sport. I respected that, of course, but wished I had someone with whom I could share my passion. The farm was isolated. I often felt lonely as apart from Roxanne, I had no real friends to call upon. As Selby Smith’s number one target, I was effectively, the school’s prohibition. Favour or friendship with me came at a price few were willing to pay, and who could blame them?

Returning down stairs, I found Grandpa preparing to drive into the village. I accepted the offer to tag along, as it would soon to be Valentine’s Day. Though in previous years the occasion hadn’t seemed to merit sending Roxanne a card, my feelings for her had changed. She was often on my mind, always in my dreams and I couldn’t imagine a life without her. In the Spar Grandpa bought a few groceries whilst I selected a card, more witty than soppy, though the sentiment remained the same.

When Roxanne failed to ring in the evening, I called her. She was full of apology. Said she’d been a hectic shopping trip with her mother and it slipped her mind. I refused to report what happened at school, using it as a ploy to lure her over.










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Comments by other Members



jim60 at 18:41 on 19 April 2010  Report this post
Hi Joella, I thought this was excellent, I loved the atmosphere between Ben and Grandpa, it really felt so warm between them.
The dialogue between them was just as warm, I was taken by what you'd written and the other thing that stuck with me was Ben and his memories of his dad, very touching.
I don't know what more I can say but I now wait for the next part.
All the best,
Jim.




Demonqueen at 19:00 on 19 April 2010  Report this post
Hi Joella,

I just spent an hour reviewing this only to find my comments got wiped when the site asked me to login -Grrr!!! So, you'll excuse me if I get straight to the point!

I didn't find your writing as strong as previous sections. I think the main resons for this are:

Compounding of important milestones
- there seems to be a lot of backstory in here that seems to just be skipped over. His father's death and the effect it has on his relationship with his mother are both key points in his history. As the beginning chapters are so full on, it might pay to slow things down a little here and concentrate on exploiting these two events as much as possible. Also, saying his father's death is 'lamentable' seems too detached. This is a teenage boy who would be upset about losing his dad (relationship or not), and we should be too. Make me cry!! (ok a slap round the chops would be quicker and easier but, hey, we're writers; we don't do easy!) Anyway, you may not want to reveal too much about these two relationships at this point, but perhaps consider focussing on them more in this section.

Voice - isn't this meant to be a teenage narrator? It's been a long while since I read chap 1 so I don't remember if we are using an adult looking back on his teenage years or from the POV of the young lad, so forgive me if I've got it wrong. It seems to me that a well educated and experienced adult is telling the tale with phrases such as 'Three score and ten' (even that seems old fashioned for the narrator's age in the prologue) and 'his father's death was lamentable'. Also, I'm not sure if this sentence: ‘If I had a son, I’d never ignore him. I’d love him. Let him know that I loved him. Be a father to him...’ even sounds boylike - would a sulky, testosterone-filled boy say this, even if they are close? - perhaps using subtext here might be appropriate. Anyway, it doesn't sound like a teenager talking, if that was your intention. If that wasn't your intention, maybe consider roughing up his dialogue to sound younger so that the lines between the two differing ages are less blurred?

Telling how people feel - Mr Dodds was rendered speechless and then rocked out of his perceptions (what were his perceptions BTW?) and Grandpa was angry. How do these people react to what's going on? Mr Dodds seems important as he is the only sympathiser with your MC at the school, so I would say we need to get to know him a little better as well. E.G. when he talks of his mother: I remembered the school sports day when I won three races - even though I knew she loved me, she still couldn't give me a hug and share in my moment, or something like that just by way of example. Actions speak louder than words, as they say.

And a couple of other niggles, but of less importance -
‘He was drunk,’ I explained. ‘I’ve said before, the man’s an alcoholic.
Wouldn't Mr D know that already, seeing as he works with Mr P?
but what I wouldn’t have given to jealously conjure a memory to complement the framed image.
I didn't understand that sentence.


Anyway, sorry if it seems a harsh crit, but I'm a little pushed (bedtime for the LO coming up). I hope these comments are taken the way they are intended.

All the best,
Charlie

Joella at 19:31 on 19 April 2010  Report this post
Hi Jim and thank you for reviewing my work - again! I'm glad you liked it. Much calmer and slower than the previous two chapters, but I suppose that's to be expected. I had hoped the relationship between Ben and his grandpas would feel warm, so your comment was much appreciated. Thanks again and kind regards, Joella.

Joella at 20:29 on 19 April 2010  Report this post
Hi Charlie, just to say I lost a comment once, exactly as you did and it was most frustrating. I'd like to thank you for your perseverance.

Let me answer some of your questions and comments to see if you feel any different. If you don't, I know you'll let me know. I truly appreciate your honesty. You've given me many reasons to change things and for that I am very grateful.

Have you read the prologue? In this you discover that Ben has lost the will to live. He's lost his son and takes an overdose. Prior to the pills and alcohol, he finds a 1974 school photo. This is the year the story begins and it's narrated by a mid twenty year old man in a drunken stupor.

You're right that the relationship with his mother and death of his father are key points. The prologue reveals Ben's father died when he was 5 and that he was brought up on a farm by his mother and grandpa. The phrase three score years and ten, was copied from his grandpa. Relying upon the companionship of his grandpa and occasionally Roxanne, Ben is not your 'normal' teenage boy. He has respect for those who warrant it and a strong sense of justice. The values and morals of his grandpa are imprinted on him and again, in the prologue, he says he owes much of who he is to his grandpa.

As the story progresses, Ben learns much more about the man his father was. There is a dedicated chapter, which enables Ben to understand why his mother has found it hard to show her affection and the tragedy of his father's death. That's why ch3 doesn't disclose too much.

At the time Ben is narrating the story he is well educated. He was an English teacher with a specialism in Literature.
The phrase about being a father to a child if he were to have one, was out of the bitterness he felt towards his mother. She of course, has her reasons.

Dialogue - Ben's dialoge at home is not the same as he uses with the bullies at school, which I think was demonstrated in previous chapters.

You say - ' Mr Dodds was rendered speechless and then rocked out of his perceptions (what were his perceptions BTW?)
- Mr Dodds assumed Cappy inflicted the wound in Ben's hand. When he learned it was the Deputy Headteacher, he was shocked. You do get to know Mr Dodds in subsequent chapters - discover why he is like he is towards Ben.

In answer to : Wouldn't Mr D know that already, seeing as he works with Mr P?
- Ben had said it before. It is likely all staff knew, but nothing was done. This was the case when I was at school, which is where the idea came from. On the day Ben received the injury he was having a breakdown.

'...but what I wouldn’t have given to jealously conjure a memory to complement the framed image'.

- Ben is looking at a photo (framed image) of him with his father, sat astride his motorbike.
He can see the two of them, but has no recollection of the moment because he was so young when he lost his father. He would have given anything to have been able to vividly recall in his mind the moment the two of them were captured on camera.
Does it make sense now? If not, maybe I'll have to rethink it.


Okay, Charlie, has this answered the questions. Do you feel any different about the story now? I accept the writing style's different, not so punchy, but I don't think it can all be written with the same intensity. Ben's troubles aren't over, but it's quieter for a while. In this period I explore other relationships and the agony of falling in love...

Thanks again. You are so thorough and I am very appreciative!!

Kindest regards, Joella.


Demonqueen at 08:14 on 20 April 2010  Report this post
Morning!!

Yes, I did say I couldn't remember the beginning so well i.e. if we were in a teenagers POV or an adults. If it's him as an adult then forget what I said! But with his dialogue, yes, you do speak differently when you talk to your parents, but I still wouldn't overlook the fact that he is a teenager and that would still come through, too. Also just for the fact that it doesn't make the teenager sound the same as the narrator, who is quite a lot older. Does that makes sense? :s

You say - ' Mr Dodds was rendered speechless and then rocked out of his perceptions (what were his perceptions BTW?)
- Mr Dodds assumed Cappy inflicted the wound in Ben's hand. When he learned it was the Deputy Headteacher, he was shocked. You do get to know Mr Dodds in subsequent chapters - discover why he is like he is towards Ben.


Okay, you may want to let us know that's what he thought, because many assumptions could be made and, this is for you to decide of course, it seems it might be important to know what people outside of the situation think is going on. Of course, this may come over clearly if I were to read all the chapters within a few days of each other it's so difficult when you read chapters weeks,even months, apart! I'm just trying to say that when you're involved in a long piece of work, it's easy to think you've got your reader along for the ride only to find they've slipped off the back of the saddle!

I totally agree you can't write the whole book in the intensity you started out with. I think What I'm trying to say is that your bullying scenes are well depicted and reasonably lengthy but here are some important issues that don't seem to have quite the same attention to detail and exploring them a little more here might pay off. I Know they are referred to in the prologue, but, again, they are mentioned, not explored. Obviously that's something you will have to consider with your insider knowlege of where the story is going perhaps you have plans to do this much later on?

'...but what I wouldn’t have given to jealously conjure a memory to complement the framed image'.

- Ben is looking at a photo (framed image) of him with his father, sat astride his motorbike.
He can see the two of them, but has no recollection of the moment because he was so young when he lost his father. He would have given anything to have been able to vividly recall in his mind the moment the two of them were captured on camera.
Does it make sense now? If not, maybe I'll have to rethink it.


It still doesn't make sense to me! Sorry. So you mean to 'vividly recall' then? 'Jealously' doesn't fit. Who's he jealous of? You shouldn't need to give this explanation; the sentence should say it on its own. Vividly makes much more sense...

Anyway, I hope that helps.

All the best

Charlie

Joella at 08:34 on 20 April 2010  Report this post
Good morning, Charlie.

Thank you so much for responding again. Diligent indeed! I've taken on board what you've said and will give it due consideration. I just want to say that by the word 'jealously' I meant that Ben wants to remember the moment he and his father sat together on his bike and keep it to himself. I'll be interested to see if anyone else picks up on it. I did have some reservation when I wrote it. Good thing you picked it out.

You most certainly help. Much appreciated. Regards, Joella.

adLIB at 09:56 on 22 April 2010  Report this post
Good morning Joella (and everyone.) My attempt at a response here is as much a learning curve for me, as it is likely to be a useful offering to you, Joella. I say this, as I have no idea how to write, or how to give constructive feedback; but hey, if I don't have a bash at it, I won't learn!....

So just to say, I had only read just this piece (not any other previous ones you submitted) because of my current concentration levels. And I also had found myself wondering about the age of the MC (main character?) I thought he must be an adult who works at the school; your explanation of context helped, and makes me want to read more of your story.

I liked the feel of the story very much, and did hear something of the voice of a young person who was seeing the world from a very individual perspective, despite age. I thought that the "jealousy" reference implied that he was jealous of those who could vividly conjure the images or clear memories of lost loved ones.

‘She will,’ he insisted. ‘Your mother will know, and in life you will learn, son, that there are times when you hide things, even lie, because the truth is too painful. Sometimes you’re not even conscious of it, but believe me, it always catches up with you in the end.’


This was the only passage that sidetracked me a bit, as this was where I wasn't sure of the voice of Grandpa. The phrasing of it sounded like a much younger, more contemporary voice, and not of his generation?"
But Grandpa's wisdom and patience is there to be heard, and I also think the warmth of the relationship between them is lovely.
Makes me want to read more, which I will.
adLIB


Joella at 10:12 on 22 April 2010  Report this post
Good morning to you adLIB and thank you so much for reviewing my work. You wrote a very good crit. Made some good points and assumptions, which takes a bit of courage. I was pretty hopeless when I first joined. But it's true, the more you get involved the easier it gets, even the writing. I'm not particularly confident when it comes to writing. I enjoy it, just wished my level of passion for the written word would equate with ability and success. Still never mind, we persevere and with that comes confidence and a degree of satisfaction. After your first few tentative steps into the WW world, you'll learn how it all works, make a few friends and think it was money well spent. All the best and thanks again, Joella.

Jemsie at 13:06 on 25 April 2010  Report this post

Hi Joella - I've enjoyed reading and studying this piece. I think you've taken on a difficult task with 1st person POV and the big time gap, and the jump from childhood to adulthood which effectively makes it two characters.

Please take the following as constructive criticism and if I've misunderstood then I apologise. I read advice somewhere to give characters' names which are disimilar to help the reader distinguish. When I came up against Dyke, Dodds and Potts early in the piece, I struggled a bit as they are similar, same letter count, similar sounds.

The following has received a lot of attention.

'but what I wouldn’t have given to jealously conjure a memory to complement the framed image.'

I understood it in the context of 'cherishing' something like 'Had I only a memory of being in this framed image, a memory I could cherish.'

Something like the above. This seems to be an important sentence in the piece, and it says a lot about the character's desire to live in the past. It would benefit tidying up a bit as it's a bit clunky, and as the posts suggest, prone to being misunderstood.

I agree with Charlie, that the voice, in places loses credibility. 'Lamentable' doesn't carry enough emotional weight. Same on the three-score years and ten sentence, I think there's incongruence here as the sentence starts with the child-like term 'grandpa'. I've read your comments about why the narrator would use this, but I can't 'hear' the character say it if you see what I mean?

The bond between narrator and grandfather may be overstated a little. I think there's plenty that shows their attachment without the need to tell the reader. For example I'm shown that there's this close bond by something as subtle as the narrator saying he 'dozed for a while...' around the grandfather, coming out of sleep, comforted by the others presence. This is powerful showing as far as I'm concerned, and gives a remarkable resonance to this piece. Phrases such as 'lovingly prepared', 'warmly embraced' are not necessary. Similarly, the bit where they make eye contact, I'd understate this too.

What I think is the strong point is the dialogue and knowing when to use use these in dramtic scenes rather than narration. The dialogue bits, as I say, Seem to be well chosen. On the dialogue tags, he said, she said etc. I think they'd benefit from being without the adverbs 'earnestly' 'sternly' 'bitterly' 'solemnly' etc. Similarly, the adjectives 'angry' 'sour' are doing too much telling rather than showing.

I think with telling and showing the difference is that the good stuff - showing is done intuitively for much of the time, whereas the not so good, telling, is the author wrestling with the piece. I think it's good but will benefit from stripping it down a bit.

Good luck Joella

Regards Jemsie








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