there they are
dad took us to see the film
only there was no real film
oh yes there was a screen
there was a screen with a sort of blurry moving painting
there was a story
but it wasn’t much of a story either
there was no story to be told
but dad said sssh its everyones story
its not my bloody story you whispered under your sweet breath
but then you realised yes it was your story
the story of you and every you ever
a meaningless dreamy miasma of your deepest souled lives
this then was us and everybody there even those not watching the screen
we realise we are not part of this as the audience
the film has jumped out of the screen and included us
thats made me feel strange dad… I said
sssh..! said dad can’t you two be quiet..?
we watch on as the dismal crackly film thing starts up
it is a sour English summer afternoon
only its not England
its somebody idea of England who’s never been there
a stupid made up England
with too much strange vegetation and recorded bird song
and the grey bitter sky for that summer afternoon
as the old professor and black cat trudge along
a lane hemmed in with old bricks bursting with bloom
old weary man his prime long ago carrying his suitcase
seen so much better days in a dreamlike past that never really happened
what did it all mean now..? as he trod the silent road to his next show
the black cat walked along at his side the size of a small panther
she was as tired as her old master too
and she half heartedly chased small woodland creatures away
what is it girl ? the professor would mutter
as they headed deeper into an unwelcoming afternoon
as they walked in a place that had no time
we had no more time now
oh I began to see
its good… dad said to us in a whisper
sssh… said someone behind us
I hope the cat can talk… you said to dad then
maybe she I can I don’t know of course not… said dad
sssh!… said someone in front of us
the old professor
professor of what..? I wondered
professor of something though anyway… the whole audience thought
yes he’s got the old black dusty suit and a crumpled hat
hey you..! I said… give me some of those chocolates..
give him some of the chocolates… dad hissed at you and I smiled
and then
please just watch the bloody film… he implored us
sssssh! said some behind us
oh shuttup.. said dad over his shoulder
meanwhile the old professor and his rather large cat trudged on towards wherever they were going
sometimes it seemed they were on some old train
or riding along on a horse drawn cart
but I rubbed my eyes…
hey wake up! dad said… you’re falling asleep
it didn’t seem to matter if you were awake or asleep for this film anyway
in my day dream I was the old professor and I had been walking along forever
sometimes I grumbled to the cat about things
that last bloody hotel, kitten
they doubled charged us for my tomato soup
I searched through my pockets for money
they were full of strange bits and pieces
little machines and diagrams and yes there was some money
but what a strange faded currency it was
the coins nearly worn smooth
the notes all wrinkled and ripped
who was that sad king staring out in shade of palest grey..?
well how about that..?
one minute im just a boy watching a film
next minute im the old professor walking along with the black cat
as I grumble the cat sits and listens and with her body she indicates agreement or disagreement
when I tell her ive lost my bloody glasses too
she walks away dismissively until groping my forehead oh no ha ha
I had them on all the time
my head is bursting with stuff
all the meaningless blah blah blah of mathematics and literature
all those stupid paintings and symphonies and architectural blueprints
all those flying machines and gas lamps and mechanical squeezers
what did any of it avail him now..?
the black cat the afternoon the road the hedge the wall the puddles
the beginning of a light cold rain
the cat runs into a graveyard at the side of the road
oh no kitten no come out of there… says the old professor
as the cat jumps between the weeds and cracked angels
all the faded names on the broken stones
the names of everyone watching the film
the camera dwells on all the names
how I envy the dead.. someone sighs
someone else says shhhh!
dad squeezed your hand
its only a film.. he said
they walk on down the road as the afternoon never changes
grumble grumble grumble
no they never fixed that hole up did they, kitten…?
and my goodness every time it rained well I got a letter from the library
it said that I never returned that book but I did
look I have the slip in my pocket don’t I …?
they just say anything and expect you to pay don’t they
they must think we were born yesterday.. he said
as he reached into his pockets looking for things
I was sure the film must be nearly over when they finally got to wherever it was they were going
when I thought about it later
I wasn’t sure if it was a stately little castle
or a rowdy inn full of beastly villains
or if it was a door in a tree
but there they were
here they are
no here we are
we sat down at a table and they brought us out some food
yes kitten yes I know you’re hungry too…as I popped a piece of cake into her mouth
the people in that place are weird and frightening dad…you whispered
yes well im sure they are supposed to be…dad whispered back
everyone in the place looked like some kind of animal
there were men who looked like goats and pigs
and disgusting spidery women
and the old lady that looked like a sheep plonked down a mug of dark ale
the old professor lets the black cat lick at the foam
yes yes you were a thirsty little cat weren’t you kitten he mutters
the cat looks up from her lapping
and for a moment her foamy whiskers make the old professor laugh
a laugh which turns into an awful wheezing cough
a big rough looking man with a jutting jaw sits down opposite
I’m you’re fuckin’ ‘ospitality manager he grunts unsmilingly
what animal is he supposed to be…you whispered
a bull I think I said
dad butted in …oh really I thought he was a kind of a camel
we both giggled at this
yet at the moment he just looked like some awful old man
eat your cakes drink your beer and then lets ‘ave some fuckin’ music please squire
the old professor scowled at the man
I certainly hope your piano is in tune sir… the old professor said in his most aloof accent
my fuckin’ piano (he pronounced it piana) is so in tune you won’t fuckin’ believe it.. said the man
anyway we’ve ‘ad much more popular acts play here than you and none of’ ’em complained
oh yes..? I said and the old professor said it at the same time as me
and which acts are you referring to that are more popular than us..?
‘ere you got tickets on yourself ‘avent you..said the man
but last week we had Lucy Crow appearing with the Birches
at this remark the cat hissed
and the old professor said in indignation
but surely sir that act is a juggling act and therefore does not use the piano
I didn’t say they used it..the man said
I said they never complained
there seemed little to be argued about
the old professor was defeated
all this way to be talked to like that …he said to the cat
who blinked her eyes and shook her head in agreement
this crowded miserable inn
in an inn and in and in muttered the old professor
alright he says and where is the artists changing rooms
im afraid the artist changing rooms are under renovation
and therefore you can just go straight on from here…said the man
airs and bloody graces …exclaims the man shaking his big rough head
I give you five minutes and on you go..! the man said and got up and walked away
the old professor sat there glumly sipping at his ale
with his other hand he stroked the cats head
bloody idiots the lot of them, kitten
I blame myself but they’re still all idiots
the black cat did not react but licked her paws and rubbed her face
I told the man who sold us our umbrella and he knew who I was
I mean who I am of course ha ha
his muttered rant is drowned in the din of the inn
but in my mind I can hear his voice go on and on
his list of grievances against the world at large
the price of butter
the shortness of breath
the long wait for summer and then rain
if only I could get properly warm
the damn nettles and the damn little stones in my shoe
and then
and then it was time to go on
a tiny little stage with an upright piano
and crimson worn out curtains
theres a table onstage with some gin and a vase of flowers
the cat sits behind the piano
we can’t see this clearly because of the film
but she can somehow play the piano
and she plays scales up and down and tries out little phrases
but it is the strangest music you have ever heard
I like it… I said
oh I don’t… you said
as the cat played the piano the old professor began to sing
and this was his song
oh snake in a ditch
elusive and rich
the loveliest venom which causes the twitch
and the worm and the toad that goad you to fold
the silence of rats that gnawed in the cold
(at this line the cat did a flourish and growled )
you feathery thing Im standing here singing for you
the blackberries thorns and the bunions and corns
the damp pulse of your heart
the wiry start to your flight
take me to where you hibernate
because im oh so tired and its oh so late
lost in a fog on a dog of an afternoon
(again the cat growled)
I dream of a stream with the life of a bream
close to the earth or deep in the ground
where all truth is to be found
the old professor left off singing and did a little dance
the cat played on with a kind of three four waltz
but the chords were never the ones you were expecting
and I felt breathless trying to keep up with whatever the music was supposed to be
but then you suddenly understood a few seconds later but it was too late
his dance was awkward and weird
he seemed out of sync with himself and the music
the audience cheered and roared and some seemed to turn into the animals they were
the old sheep lady walked around with her tray of beer
and she haggled with the drinkers in her bleating voice
when the song was over the audience exploded into applause
seems the idiots like us… the old professor muttered in the cats ear
she began the second song
oh but it went on for so long and before long I was hypnotised
the croaky voice of the old man
his words about eels and cranes and the rate at which red roses wilt
and the fields and the woods and the biggest city he’d ever seen
trees aflame in arctic nights
and falling stars that shot across your sleepy sky
the wonderful whirl of slumber
the bark of the oak the purr of the fir
the voice of the leaves that says your name in your dream
the song and film suddenly stop
the screen is a black oblong accompanied by the soft whirr of the projector
after about 10 seconds the old professor and the cat appear
the colour is different somehow and they both look a little changed
the old professor strokes the cats head
you’ve been such a good girl… he mumbles as he falls asleep
such a good such a good girl
the cat sits on the bed for awhile
before we see her jump out of the open window onto the rooftops and away
the credits roll
a sad orchestra crackle out a theme
the lights come on
dad just sits there in his seat
oh boy I fell asleep.. he says
it was the morning and they were leaving.. dad said
what happened then..?
we looked at each other
and we turned and followed him out of the cinema
