Joshua

It was cold and getting colder. I looked out over the Dale and told Joshua that it was going to rain. He laughed it off but I didn’t have a winter coat. I had slept uncomfortably so my neck ached and I resented that he didn’t care. Our aims were set on the gap in the horizon. Joshua’s sister had told us that a cow had fallen over the waterfall. 

Joshua’s sister was what was called anorexic. That is when someone doesn’t eat as much as they’re meant to, because they want to be thin. I looked out for marks on her teeth when I was at his house, but Joshua said that she wouldn’t make herself sick because she wanted to have nice white shiny teeth. 

I felt sorry for Joshua and his sister. Their mother was uncompromisingly beautiful. She cut our hair and was subject to endless childhood fantasy. Each of the local boys felt they had a special intimate connection with her. I think this is why Joshua’s sister didn’t eat as much as everyone else did.

You walk too fast, Joshua said as he wiped his nose on the back of his wrist. There was a damp spot left at the end of his jumper sleeve.

That day there was a cough in my throat that would not leave, and I wondered why I never noticed when there was nothing wrong with me. I twisted my neck and it made a loud cracking sound.

We usually crossed the river by an old bridge, but upon arrival we discovered that the bridge had fallen. I rolled my trousers above my knees, but my jeans still got wet. When I got to the other side I used my socks to dry my legs and feet and sat and waited as Joshua crossed. I cupped my hands and blew on them. I had hidden a handful of macadamia nuts in my pocket. Joshua came and sat next to me in the grass by the side of the river and we ate the nuts. I got up and threw a rock into the water and watched it vanish. I said that we had to go because it was going to rain soon and we continued on our quest to the gap in the horizon.

At the top of a hill we stood facing away from the wind, catching our breath. Joshua pointed at something. We walked towards the black spot in the distance. It grew bigger and bigger until we saw that it was a man.  He was slumped in the grass with his head in his arms, making odd noises. It wasn’t until we were closer still that I heard, over the wind, that the odd sounds he was making were sobs.

I wasn’t sure if I recognized him. But I was sure I must have somehow vaguely known him. When we were younger, Joshua and I were caught by an old couple that found us throwing stones at a bird’s nest. They told us to stop and we didn’t and somehow the information found its way back to our parents. Everyone knows everyone. I must have known this old man and I didn’t like the idea of him sat alone in the grass crying to himself when I knew it was going to rain.

We stood listening and I thought for a very long time about it. Then I crouched and tried to put my arm around him and he sniffed to show that I helped. I told him it would be all right and that it would stop soon and after a while it did. 

He looked up at me. His eyes were swollen, his nose red. I told him it was too cold to be sat out here crying and he laughed and I offered him a macadamia and he said no, thanks though. I thought of asking him why he was crying but said why are you out here? He looked down as if he’d done something wrong.

He asks us what we were doing and I said that we were going to see a dead cow and I asked him if he wants to come and he said he doesn’t want to see a dead cow, why would anyone want to see a dead cow, and I shrugged.

It began to rain and Joshua said we better be off. My shadow crossed over the man as I stood up to leave. I watched the man getting smaller and smaller as we walked away. He never looked back at us. 

The rain was getting worse and the ground was becoming soft underfoot. Luckily, we came to an old barn. We stood in the downpour looking at the door. What do you think is in there? Joshua said. I don’t know, I replied.

I put my ear to the door and listened. Quiet. I whacked the door with the flat of my hand. It slowly swung open on its old hinges.

Once inside, I realized I’d been there before, with my sister. Together we had dug a hole in the corner and hidden some chocolates. I kicked at the earth where we had put them; half expecting them to still be there.

We stood in the open door like farm animals, looking out, waiting for the rain to stop. Joshua wiped his nose on his sleeve. There was a lingering stink of cow poo and the rain dripped through the roof into puddles on the floor. 

I looked out at the sky and played with a bit of nut that had broken off in my pocket. After a while the rain stopped and the wind shifted and there was almost silence. All I could hear was the waterfall near by.