20/12/2020
The Fall of the Dice
It is a door, just an ordinary door!
The outside of the door has a painting,
A picture of a cat sitting in a window
beside a pot of sunflowers, but
There is no window in the door!
Inside the door are two hooks and
two jackets hang there;
In the pocket of one is a key
A key to the house, not the key to the door
This door has no key!
I am in his studio,
He worked here painting, sculpting and creating,
It was his escape, his retreat.
It is a small cell and even though
he is no longer here
It is filled with his presence.
When we first came here this place was a shell,
three sides of stone walls, no wall with windows,
no roof and no door!
Today it is not much used for creating,
it has become a kind of store house;
books, files, old tools now rusting away,
boxes of old clothes, too old to give away,
a step-ladder, a stool, a canvas garden chair,
a couch, a heavy wool blanket only used in the garden,
miscellaneous stores in plastic boxes and
mercifully, three bottles of water!
I open the window, yes it has a window now, and I gaze out
An autumn day of great beauty, sunny and warm,
The window is small, I lean out, wondering.
The studio, though only a few feet from the house
is at least sixty feet from the road
and there is a hedge, so when the cars pass,
I can only see the tops.
I go back to study the door.
I find a screwdriver and try to prize it
into the gap of the door -
But the door has no gap!
The panel inside covers the gap.
I return to the window.
I get a box and empty out some of the clothes,
put back the lid, then drop the box outside the window
I repeat with a second box,
I push, with a walking stick, to get them to steady,
one on top of the other,
I climb up the two steps of the step ladder
and manage to sit on the blanket,
I have thrown over the window cill.
Five, six times I attempt to get out of the window,
In between, every time a car passes,
I shout for help! No-one hears!
It is now, I think, about 4 o'clock and
I have been in here since 11 a.m.
I am not hungry or thirsty but decide
to drink some water,
I can hardly lift the bottle, and then
cannot unscrew the cap -
the water has been stored here some years;
I get a screwdriver and dig away at
the base of the cap and eventually I get it off.
I empty out a mug of its old pens,
wipe it clean with a tissue and
pour myself some water.
It is very dark now
There is no point in trying to shout for help
I plan for the night and assess my future.
It is lockdown,
no-one will call here until Thursday
when the district nurse is due to come,
and this is Monday
So, three days and three nights
before anyone will call!
Will I survive three days, three nights,
without food, without medication?
I feel very calm, I decide to write a note,
I don't want anyone to think I have committed su***de
I take some paper out of a file, and find a pen,
the pen is very dry, but I manage to write:
It is Monday November 2nd and
I cannot open the door, I am locked in!
I have tried to get out of the window, but failed.
The night is cooler now, but
there is an electric fire, so I plug it in
I cover myself with a blanket, and
lie down on the couch
I wonder if there is anyone I can contact by 'mind',
I know of only one, and he is dead
Still, I will focus on him!
Death is probably on the cards -
I have several illnesses, and I am 84!
I assume I will just get weaker as
the days pass, and go that way
I am very calm, and I sleep.
I wake Tuesday
It is another fine day!
I feel a bit weaker, but
often feel weak in the mornings
so don't panic
I drink some water,
No idea what time it is
I open the window and watch
the occasional car pass
up or down the lane,
Very few today.
A tractor with a front end loader goes
up the hill, very noisy!
Some time later, I hear a tractor in the distance
heading towards me down the hill,
I get my empty tin to bang and I yell for help!
The tractor passes and disappears,
but then I see it is reversing and
someone in the front of the cab is looking at me!
I shout again, and again!
He steps down and starts to walk
towards me across the garden -
'What is wrong?' he asks
I can't open the door!
He opens it! I am free!
I cannot believe my release,
the young man, my neighbour's son,
is covered in protective clothing and silege
but he is a God!
He asks if I need help to get to the house,
I say I am O.K. and he keeps his distance;
It is a miracle he heard me
He has saved my life!
It is indeed Thursday, before anyone calls.
Something of me is still there in the studio;
The fall of the dice that meant
no-one found me 'til Thursday!
I look into the studio, but
I am not there,
I step inside a short way, but
I do not shut the door!
Jacky Harrison Barnes
