The Unheard words of new writers...

Episode 1: Keys At Dawn; character featured: Evoke

The drawn curtains disguised morning’s light. A bedroom hung with darkness. And beneath the covers of a double bed, a young woman lay slumped in slumber on her front, head to one side propped up by a pillow. Inside her mind a dreamscape reigned. ‘The key is yours.’ An old woman, representative perhaps of wisdom, spoke these words. And, She wanted the key for some reason, she was keen to get the key. So, she reached out for it and just as she felt pleased to have hold of it the clock/ radio/ alarm heralded consciousness.
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Episode 2: Universal Language; character featured: Self

“Where you from?” He asked a woman who moments earlier had been on a mobile phone speaking Italian. “Rome.” She replied, in response to his friendly smile. “I love Italy.” He said. “I love Tuscany passionately.” Where Tuscany could have been her name and the passion of which he spoke could have been for her. She may not have understood him entirely but her expression, complete with raised eyebrows, an audible intake of breath followed by a chuckle and ending in a pleasant smile, made for universal language. He spoke universally, and they struck up a conversation.
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Episode 3: Past Goals; character featured: Self

He was on the train to Paris, leaving London at 06:29 and he'd slept badly the night and morning before. It was another business trip but that didn’t give him any cause for concern. He was lost in the past. He was back in school days, calling Micks. ‘Put it at my feet. Put it at my feet!’ And, the leather sphere came flying in on him, curving whilst spinning through the air, it had zeroed in on his right foot, which he angled to tame the ball but somehow met impressively with it and sent it off at a right angle over Tony’s head, between the posts (which were discarded sweat shirts and jumpers). ‘Nar.’ Patrick was shouting, whilst the others looked on. ‘Bad.’ Micks was shouting, shouting in amazement and celebration of the amazing goal.
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Episode 4: Gregory’s Lyrics; character featured: Evoke

‘What a day.’ She thought as she flicked her keys around to find the one for the lower front door lock. ‘I gave her back the key to her...’ Gregory’s lyrics tapped through her mind. Then, as she pushed the second key into the upper lock she remembered something else. ‘Where’d she seen that woman?’ A face had occurred to her, fleeting through her mind. ‘On TV? The film she’d recently watched - "Sunshine State" - was it?’ But, she couldn’t remember. It was something to do with a key she recalled. ‘The key.’ She withdrew the key - ‘the key’, she thought - and pushed open the door to her home.
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Episode 5: Simple Yet Significant; character featured: Evoke

Richard was like a big child. Not in that he was small of stature, prone to be intensely concerned with single issues or stubborn, more that he seemed simplistic in his thinking. Life seemed more and more complex to her. You upheld friendships, yet, you let friendships lapse to make more time for your significant other. You wanted independence and yet you wanted to be cared for, caressed and pampered. You were feminine, feminist, attractive, assertive. You loved children and all the same you pursued a career path that would eventually see you working 8 ‘til late, still keeping it social - partying late ‘til 8. You were a race role model, a designer fashion model, a male’s glamour model. And, you loved and were passionate about what you wanted to do. Yet, probably had to spend much of your time subverting this energy into that which you had practically to do.
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Episode 6: Simple Yet Significant(2); character featured: Evoke

Richard was untroubled by such contradictions and tensions of opposition. He was timeless in his attitude - he’d have said ‘classic’, as in, ‘this suit is a classic’ or ‘my car is a classic’. She reflected for a split second, ‘she’d have said classical’, as in, ‘that attitude you have towards women is classical.’ He believed, you got on with it. You saw it and you went for it or you went aggressively against it. He was a man. Men liked women. The world comprised workers and layabouts. It was about having money, making money and if neither of these applied you were highly likely - even if highly likeable - to be a loser. And, wider than this: Politics for instance, he thought was about talking about doing; whilst, planning was about thinking about doing. Which in the end meant the only real way forward was what he advocated most strongly - doing. ‘Simple really’ or really simplistic. And so, in this way, she thought Richard was like a child.
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Episode 7: Can We Go To Spain; characters featured: Self; Junior

He was on the phone to his son.

“And, this boy, James. Oh, do you know James?” His son asked.
“A-ha.” He responded autopilot like.
“He was saying.” Pause. “How do you know James?” His son asked in surprise.
“A-ha.” Again, responding on autopilot.
“Dad!” Pause.

“Yeah.”
“How do you know James? James Thomas.”
“Er, I don’t.” Pause. “I thought you were talking about someone else. Another one of your friends.”
“Oh. Yeah, well James, right. He said Adam, that’s his brother, younger brother. Yeah, well James said Adam, right.”
“A-ha.”
“Adam kept chasing after dogs and trying to pull their tails. Then, one of the dogs, right, bit him.”

“Bit James?”
“No, Adam. And, they had to call out a special doctor and everthing.”
“Did his parents have to call out an ambulance?”
“Na, they had to get a Spanish doctor ‘cause he was crying so much and everything.”
“A Spanish doctor?”
“Yeah. ‘Cause they were on holiday in Spain.”

Seconds of silence, and then. “Can we go to Spain Dad? That would be really cool. Can we Dad? Can we go to Spain?”
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Episode 8: Can We Go To Spain(2); character featured: Self

This is when it all got very difficult. This was when he had to pay more attention and stop responding in the affirmative grunt, ‘a-ha’. When the truth of the remote, as in Father who doesn’t live with their child, was exposed. He scrambled for the right words in his head. Could they go away to Spain? Could who go away to Spain - him, Junior and Junior’s mother. Or him, Junior and 'a n other' female acquaintance.
“We. We can go away Junior. We can go somewhere at some point. But, I can’t say Spain and I can’t say when.”
And, here it became painful, when his son stopped talking and the real distance between them became apparent. What did one say now? How did you recover from this.

Soon after, he was saying ‘bye’ to his son. “Take care Junior, I’ll try to speak to you later in the week.”
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Episode 9: Decide and Act; characters featured: Evoke, Monica

Her mother had said she shouldn’t and her father had said she must do what ever she had a mind to do; he always did. And so they had. Her and Monica took a break and found themselves in Andalucia, located in a little Spanish village near to the coast. The beach close by was that featured in many a brochure promising ‘the hidden Spain’. Long, broad of sand, sparsely populated. Monica had been easy about the trip, as she had been "between assignments" - in her own words.

She on the other hand, had turned up for work on Monday and pulled out of work the following Friday, and flown out the very next day. This was how to do it, she thought. Never mind the repercussions to be faced on return to the office. Once you decided, you had to act. Of course, none of this was like her, and she wasn’t entirely sure why she was so possessed. But, as they played witness to the tide's march inland, towards dusk, following what had been another warm, relaxing seaside day, she felt free of care.
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Episode 10: Dreams of Bush Men; character featured: Self

The ball strobed black and white as it rolled across the patchy grass. It has been delivered so perfectly to him and he stops the ball with the sole of his Adidas Jean clad foot. The take on the trainers was slow-mo, they looked ‘barrd’, the washed out blue of his stonewashed jeans - overlong and cut at the seams - draped over the laces of the light blue Jean trainers. The lingering was interrupted by someone calling his name - it was his mother. He looked up and saw he was in the garden. It was a small area, with a wall to his right and a fence to his left. The wall was old and a whole section had previously given way, leaving exposed brick work, like an old wall in construction. The fence was low and brown. His attention was drawn to the wooden boards, their ends triangular cut, which resulted in a strange effect of acceleration when animated by scanning eyes. The grass in between the two barriers was interspersed with dry brown mud. Again, he heard his name. He caught sight of some one he took to be his younger brother - who had just played him the ball - standing at the bottom of the garden. “Yeah mum.” He turned his back on the natural light of the garden and entered the house through a back door which led into a dimly lit hall. There was no electric light and this made the length of red patterned rug over which he now walked, and the dull green grey wallpaper which he now passed, seem dull.
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Episode 11: Dreams of Bush Men(2); character featured: Self

“Terry!” Strange, his name had changed, but it didn’t seem to matter. There was someone at the door for him, someone had been knocking for him, that’s what his mother or the mother of someone else was calling him about. “Yeaa, ok!” He called back, in the lazy untroubled way in which Terry spoke. He walked from the rear to the front of the house, passing the kitchen, the stairs and two other rooms along the way. He walked towards a front door which had four rectangular coloured glass panes inset as panels two top, two bottom. Above there was a fanlight, the pieces of glass within this pane formed a central circle (yellowish), and from this radiated tapering shards (reddish and greenish). It depicts the sun, he thought as he turned the catch and let daylight in.
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Episode 12: Dreams of Bush Men(3); character featured: Self

“Music, dread.” A man cried, his face jutting forward, a big face the matt black colour of potting soil. His presence, arms stretched out, palms open, thin fingers like twigs splayed, and with legs astride, occupied the porch. “Music, seen.”

Who was this? One of Terry’s spars. Terry’s older brother’s spar? Have I got his music? These feelings were disconcerting and made him feel uncomfortable for the first time. But, Terry was unconcerned he thought as Terry spoke. “Yo! Bush man, what music do I ‘ave?" He looked into the youths red eyes and smirked as Terry would have, the gesture of disrespect completed by the summoning of a lazy cut eye, his head tilting to oneside.

“Move from me sight na liccle man.” The bush man dismissed him with a laugh striking loud and diminishing quickly, seemingly brushing him aside with a jangling wave of his right hand.

Who is this? He was asking himself - that was the most obvious and intriguing question. But, he also remembered Terry’s size - he was relatively short he recalled - perhaps this was part of the reason for his bitterness, the spiteful vicious sarcasm, an anger compact. Terry unleashed himself. “And who is you! Tinking bush man, turning up at my ‘ouse, fee ya music. Move mun.” He felt emboldened as he sensed his older brother stirring up stairs, doubtless getting ready to join in the onslaught on the rude boy bush man.

“Music I !” Proclaimed the bush man. His voice deep and mature seemingly beyond his years.

He heard his - Terry’s older brother - rounding on the stairs. Terry raised his voice and spat out the words. “Come owt-a-‘ere Bush man. Move you Sasquach foot from me door step.” He heard his brother coming down, drawing closer, soon, he felt sure, to physically enforce his words.

The bush man who had not previously raised a rant against the abuse suddenly drew a hand to his waistband and as suddenly, appeared to have a flick-knife with which he struck out towards Terry - toward him! “Killer music dread.” His voice a deep vibration.

Terry! He drew breath. Terry! He could not draw in any more breath. And, as the surface of dreams was broken, he found himself in the dark of his bedroom.

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Episode 13: Dreams of Bush Men(4); character featured: Self

Terry Churchill had been someone he’d known at secondary school. Not a friend in his main group of friends (one of his set) but an associate from his Maths or English class. He hadn’t liked Terry, who was always so snearing, sarcastic, so acidic in his responses. Not so much loud mouthed and direct with his put downs. Terry's style was to undermine by aspersion, questioning your beliefs and values (for what they were worth at 13 or 14 years of age). Churchill wasn’t a fighter either, so that wasn’t the concern. To protect him in the playground he had the legend that was the full-sized, fully respected Churchill, his older brother. Loads of people seemed to know his brother. The older boys often passing by and intruding on their gathering to say. “Your little Churchill enit?” As if to ingratiate themselves. Terry would simply smile and they’d say. “Yeah, nice man, nice.”

Since that time he’d become aware that Terry had been stabbed to death on the doorstep of his parent's house. When ever this update on events crossed his mind he felt guilty. To remember first your dislike of someone from boyhood acquaintance, ahead of the sympathy you should surely feel about their tragic death in early manhood, that wasn’t right. But, the sympathy wouldn’t replace the distain - Terry’s bitterness, his sneering half laugh, the crushing bulldog-like bite of his sarcasm.

“Terry man.” He whispered. “I bear no ill will towards you man.”
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Episode 14: Cross Purposes; characters featured: Evoke, Richard

"I’m trying to find a slot to fly out to the states." He paused. "Perhaps you want a get-me-out-of-here-quick clause from work on that one too." He smiled in her direction but she remained impassive. "Stein’s saying, Bright House are interested in putting some capital in." He looked her way. She did not look back. "They’re talking about a session on terms taking place in four to six weeks, so I’m trying to push back the project council so that I’m clearer on the deal before I sit down formally with Tré."

"Get them over here." She suddenly demanded.

"Your flat’s a bit small for the conference Seas." He smiled in her direction once more. No response. "They’ve seen the script and my plans for the council financing this end, so I’ve got to go over."

He was mapping out the route to formal initiation of his next project, even as he talked, revisiting and refining plans. It was important to follow through.

She had been back at work for four days but truthfully she was still in Andalucia, a small town high up in the hills called Medina Sedonia.

He needed to arrange for the meetings to take place on consecutive weeks, that would save at least a month in the whole scheme of things.

She didn’t want to be unemployed exactly, she was too young for that. But, she did want to be employed when she chose to be. And, her hope was that the brief periods of ‘have to do’ occupation would not necessitate where she had to live.

He checked his watch, six o’clock, he needed to be in Camberwell by seven. He looked ok now, he confirmed, adjusting the knot in his tie as a final gesture and consulting his reflection one last time. Credibility is as credibility does.

She remembered walking through narrow streets (practically impassable by cars) sandwiched between rows of white walled buildings, with small decorative, plant filled courtyards.

"Got to go Salty." He smiled and lent over to kiss her where she lay, still in her bed.

Episode 15: Trying To Chirps Me?; character featured: Evoke

“Ight!” He says.
“Alright.” She says.
Then he says, “So what’s happenin?” But, she doesn’t answer. “Your on ten ain’t you.” He prompts. “I’ve seen you up there with the high-up people like.” He prompts again. “So, wha’s it like up dem way dere?” He asks, becoming desperate now.
She looks at him blankly and then suddenly becomes animated. “Are you trying to chirps, chirps me?” She asks suddenly.
And, for a moment he looks blank and finally dejected.
But, she smiles, a buoy of rescue.
“Chirps.” He repeats, shrugging his shoulders and nodding his head.
“Hey, don’t ask me, I thought you’d know what it means. The other day on the bus…” She begins but he interrupts. “The bus!” Sounding disgusted.
“Yeah,” she continues undeterred, “these young girls were talking about some one chirps-in-them - I didn’t understand it but I got their drift and I suddenly thought that’s what you were trying to do to me.”
His protestation was mild. “No way. Just chattin, you know, passing…”

But, she’d disengaged now and his words became background, like the other noises of the street on which they stood. She was thinking about Richard, somehow this guy reminded her of him. Not style ‘like’. Not words ‘you get me’. Something she couldn’t tie a label on to. All the same he'd have to go, of that she was sure. And, then the words of the man before her returned, slightly after he had said them maybe or as he was about to say them - “…to get a key that…” - is what she thought she heard him say.
© editor@unheardwords.com, 2004 (all rights reserved)

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