The view from the hospital lounge takes me back, long back to summer holidays when I was a kid. I’ve been in hospital for 12 weeks, now. This is my second breakdown and I haven’t hit my mid thirties yet. My days are dark, lonely and long. My dreams - on the other hand - are short but awash with the summer and vivid imagery of past times. I see my friends around me with faces of not knowing life’s waiting. I see them arguing, laughing and enjoying summer adventures. I dream of Josh too. I miss him. I never got over him leaving me the way he did. I always loved him. He knew this from our closeness and moments together. And I knew, too, that he loved me ‘cos he said so in the message that he left me.  I don’t blame him. Things were hard for him. But things are hard for me too. Asleep is perhaps where I should be.

2.

Summer holidays – there is something about them that is just right. The July start, six weeks to get bored and into trouble, having fun, building life affirming friendships and fighting old enemies – especially the kids from the new estate.I was lucky where I lived. In our street there was a whole gang of us who would spend the summer building camps, making dams, putting up rope swings, stealing produce from the farmers fields and surrounding neighbourhood, having silly rituals and acting like grown ups.

James was the eldest and our appointed leader. He was of above average height, for his age, an all rounder on the sports field and well blessed in the Holy Grail department. He was also one side of a contrasting twin set. Rob his junior – by five minutes and five years in nouse – was a right asshole, with a menacing dark side.  Rob was rotund, significantly shorter than his brother, in more than one sense, and often found himself in James’ shadow. Apparently he followed his mom’s side. It was on account of this – we believed - he would always be the thorn in the side of the group. Always the one to disagree for the sake of disagreeing, the one who would always let you know when he’s been wronged. But he had natural ability for carpentry that came in use for when we were building our camps whether land based or tree based. And the group knew this.

The other members of the gang were me, Josh - my best mate - Brian and his brother Jason.

Out of all the gang my mom loved Josh the most. It used to get me mad to hear my mom go on about him all the time. She would always say, “Why can’t you be more like Josh, less selfish”. I just didn’t know how to, in truth. Josh was just different. He was different from the rest of us, in a beautiful and gentle kind of way that you couldn’t explain.  Through his scruffy demeanour he just radiated beauty. He eyes were like blue poppies, and his smile bestowed a serenity that put the world at ease. He had a slight stutter that revealed his vulnerable side and he was always caring about this and that, especially other kids. This always won him friends, especially amongst other kid’s parents. He didn’t go to the same school as the rest of us. His parents were practising Catholics and they ensured he had a Catholic education.

Brian and Jason on the other hand, well they lived at the top of the street with their mom – Angie. Their dad had left a while ago, now. He went out for fish and chips one night and never returned. At the time, I wasn’t too sure why my mom wasn’t that keen on Brian and Jason. I often thought it was ‘cos they appeared to be much more grown up than the rest of us in a semi-adult/ independent way. But I later learnt that it was Angie. Angie – how she liked to be called by the rest of us - had a particular thing for thigh high boots, trades men and vodka in the afternoon.

3.

It was two weeks into the holiday – after the industrial shut down – that we first met.

It was our chance to decide how we were all going to spend the rest of the summer break.

We planned to meet down the brook, under the ‘Corner Tree’ to decide the location of this year’s camp. I collected Josh, Brian and Jason on my way and we met James and Rob there.

For local kids the ‘Corner Tree’ was where teenage life was at. It was the centre of the brook. An eighty-foot high rites of passage that held the brook’s longest working rope swing. Its main trunk and branches read like a list of who's who and who fancied who in from over the years. Its canopy was dense and as wide as it was high.

It was 11 O’ clock when we had all arrived. Brian and Jason worked on getting the fire started, whilst James was busying himself finding a stick to direct proceedings.

We had all settled down, sitting in a circle, when James started the discussion about the location for this year’s camp. “Right, we need a hideout for this year’s den” said James. The brook ran from the edge of our local town and blended itself into the distant countryside. Nobody knew where it officially stopped and the where countryside began and nobody cared, either. It was the brook, and that’s the only thing that mattered. Brian shouted up, “how about next to the big bank?” Rob wasn’t impressed. “No, that’s a crap location”, he screeched in excitement. Rob suggested the back of the track. We had one there a couple of years ago, but it wasn’t a popular choice. I shouted out ‘The Pipe’. I talked about how we could have a choice of either a treehouse or a ground camp. “It’s not too far from the new houses, the cornfields and the potato fields are just behind us, what could be better”, I said excitedly. As it turned out ‘The Pipe’ location hadn’t been used in years. Previously it was considered one of the best places within the whole brook. I knew it wouldn’t take too much effort to knock it back into shape. Looking for approval, I turned to Josh who by this stage could see where I was coming from. The location was screened by eighty to ninety foot high oak trees. I knew this would tip the balance for Josh. With Josh on side Brian and Jason soon followed and before I knew it James was with me too. There was a real buzz about ‘The Pipe’ location so James put it up for the vote. He called for a show of hands and in return he got five outstretched and excited hands. It was agreed there and then that this year’s den would be built at ‘The Pipe’.

4.

Once we’d agreed the location of this year’s den, it was time for me go home. I was going out that evening to visit one of my aunts. She was my Dad’s younger sister and hadn’t been well since the death of her only child – he was fifteen. He was killed playing dare on an inner city railway track. I remember it being on the national television news.

Mom had asked what I had been up today. I told her about this year’s den location. She was kind of interested, but what she really wanted to know was whether Brian and Jason were hanging out with me for the rest of the summer.

And if so, could I minimise the time I spent around their house. This wasn’t going to be an issue as such as we all had our work cut out with getting the camp ready. It was only four weeks before we were all back at school.

We arrived at our aunts. The atmosphere was tense and nervous. Alan, her husband had been drinking and was trying to dress her wounds with fresh bandages. She had been released from hospital, but was under strict supervision. There couldn’t be any sharp objects, within her reach, and she should be watched closely to make sure she takes her medication. With Alan struggling to coordinate his efforts, my dad decided to lend a hand. He somehow empathized with Alan. He told my aunt, that he had spoken with their mom and that she wanted my aunt to live with her just until she was over the worst. My aunt had said, in retort, “You don’t get over something like this. It’s for life”. But he said, in response, “that what she meant was perhaps just four to six weeks.” It was late when we got home, that evening. My dad wanted to leave earlier, but he knew his sister didn’t want him to leave, so he hung as long as he could – without mom becoming agitated.

When we got home that evening my mom and dad started arguing. My mom had passed a comment about the number of hours he worked. She told him, “that he was a workaholic.” He said, angered by the insult,” I would rather be at work, taking the overtime, than here with you thumbing next season’s catalogue and planning your next diet.” Mom broke down crying. My folks always argued. I could never workout why they wouldn’t listen to one another.

5.

The following day I made my way to ‘The Pipe’, collecting Josh along the way.

He didn’t seem to be quite himself.  He was quiet and looked tired. He was limping too. I asked him if he was okay. He said, “I’ll be fine.  It’s just my dad. He was mad at me for dropping one of his stamp albums. It was the one with his penny black in it – his most expensive stamp. I can’t blame him really. It’s his most prized of all albums.  My folks were at church and I wanted to mess about with my Mecano set.  And I needed the dining table to work off. It was an accident. The stamps are only held in place by little pieces of gum paper. And when it fell, it landed face down creasing one of the pages and pulling some of the stamps from their purposely designed slot. You wouldn’t believe how he catalogues each and every stamp. Anyway, I tried to straighten the page and put the stamps back in their place. It didn’t work. It was pointless. I was shitting myself. When he got back he was furious. He took me to my bedroom, closed the door and removed my belt. He began hitting and screaming at me. I didn’t think he was going to stop. I tried to deflect the strikes with my hands, but it only made him more cross. When he finished, I climbed into bed and sobbed all evening. I kept on thinking how I wish he would die. As for him, he couldn’t even look at me. He just went downstairs for his tea.”

I looked at Josh with sympathy. In truth I didn’t know what to say or do. I just felt angry that an adult can do such a thing, and get away with it. I told Josh that I thought his dad was a complete bastard. “He has no right to do what he does” I said.

Having made it to camp, I was impressed by the progress that was made in an afternoon. The rest of the gang had cleared the whole area and had also managed to steel some scaffolding boards from the end of the building works on the new estate. Within ten minutes James and Rob had turned up. They were talking excitedly about treehouses, and how one of the trees across the brook had the perfect shape to support one. Telling the gang there was plenty more wood and nails at the building site there is no reason why we couldn’t have a treehouse by the end of the week.