Twenty or so Years

Australians get very attached to there homes however quirky they may be, or is it just the memories?

 

Twenty or so years                                Empiethree

 

It was a mildly chilly south east Queensland winter morning some time in June 2005 when retiree Jon Beakon woke up to his alarm clock. Jon glanced across at the empty space of his caravan that he had called home for the past twenty or so years. Before turning the alarm clock off Jon tumbled around for his glasses so that he could see. He found the glasses and put them on. As he turned his rather old fashioned alarm clock off he remembered that he had to tend to his garden for this was the only thing that kept him busy.

 

As he stood up and got out of bed the caravan moved as it always did. It was a cold morning so Jon put a kettle on straight away before he went outside. This was the kettle that he and his now past away wife were given as a wedding gift. Jon thought of his wife every time he used the kettle. Once he had turned the stove on he opened the door of the old caravan and it creaked the way it had for the past twenty or so years.

 

There was frost on the lawn in front of the caravan so Jon was sure to put his old shoes on before leaving the small one square meter concrete slab in front of the van. After this he removed his gardening gloves from where they were hanging on the side bars of his caravan and put them on his old frail hands.

 

Jon unraveled his old garden hose off an old spare wheel from his car that he and his wife drove but was re-possessed when Jon failed to renew his license. When the hose was finally unraveled he turned on the tap. Jon knew that it was sensible to water even when there was frost on the ground because that meant that it wasn’t hot enough for the water to evaporate. Jon always watered his daisy’s first. His daises thrived in an old terracotta water dish with the name “Spazza” on it. Spazza was Jon’s dog that he bought soon after his wife died however Jon outlived Spazza as well. After the daises Jon went on to water the tulips near his front picket fence that was as white as a cloud. Jon painted this fence every year with his neighbor and best mate, Makka until 1999 when Makka was diagnosed with cancer and passed away. When Jon noticed the length of his lawn he fixated the hose on a bracket attached to the fence and went to fetch his push rotary lawnmower.

 

After removing the lawnmower from his little shed attached to the side of the caravan he pushed it along the grass too and throw as busily as a beaver building a dam. When he was finished with the lawn he grabbed his garden weeder and began weeding around the little patch of cement at the front of his van that his father helped him lay. His father died shortly after his wife died though. Next Jon walked out through his picket gate and over to the front of the caravan park. He said G’Day to Larry who worked at the Kiosk and made his way to the large bank of letter boxes near the main road. He fidgeted around for his keys inside a pocket of his old pair of overalls, the same pair that he wore when he and his wife owned a car garage. When he found the keys he was looking for, he awquardly put one of the keys into the key hole of letter box forty and opened it up. Inside the letterbox was some junk mail as there usually was and beneath this was some window envelopes.

 

As always Jon opened the bank envelope up first and checked that he was receiving his pension. After this he opened up the second envelope. This one was from a building company called Perkins Building Company. Jon had never received a letter from them before so he double checked the receivers address. It was addressed to him so he continued to open it. He read the letter on the spot. The letter said that the land on which the caravan park was situated was sold off by the government to a private company six years ago and had recently been sold to a developer earlier in 2005. The letter went on to state that in order for building to commence later in the year everyone in the park would have to vacate. Jon read the sentence a few more times because he knew that his vision was going a bit dodgy in his old age. When Jon finally lifted his eyes from the letter, he glanced across at his little patch of paradise that he had called home for the past twenty or so years.

 

Tears welled in his eyes and he fell to his knees. Just as he did this a large white four wheel drive with black window tint tore past him and pulled up at the kiosk. Three men in black business suits climbed out off the vehicle. Jon felt sick as he walked back to his gate. He walked into the yard and didn’t wrap the hose back around the wheel. He wept more tears as he walked past the tulips and the dog water dish with the daises growing inside it. Jon was still crying as he opened the door to his van, whilst looking at his garden smiling back at him oblivious to the whole situation. When Jon got back inside he poured his tea and drank it in silence. After this he was so depressed that he went back to bed without reading the morning newspaper for the first time in twenty or so years.

 

The End

Author's Note

I wrote this for a year eleven english assignment two years ago. The assignment was about the students individual interpretation of the Australian dream. My interpretation was wrong! ie, this. Just because I didnt include a drover sitting at a billabong sipping on some VB with skippy randomly bounding past. I am Australian, so no english teacher should tell me my individual interpretation is wrong. It kind of defeats the purpose doesnt it.

Reviews

[Jake H.]

Given your description, it's still really sad.