Short Story No.6
The Picture
by
Ann Miller
Ed gazed out of his office window at the bleak, grey cityscape and wondered how on earth he had wound up here. On a nice sunny day the city could look quite attractive, he supposed, with the sun glinting on all the windows, but even then he still felt totally out of place. He acknowledged to himself that he has been dissatisfied with his life for a long time but lacked the gumption to do anything about it. He was here, doing a job he profoundly disliked, because it was just too much effort to not be here!
He was good at his job, a great success in fact, and earned a good salary. Even though he preferred to live simply, he could afford a really good standard of living if he wanted it but what benefit was that when he felt so dead inside. It was as if everything he did was by automatic pilot with no emotion involved at all. He worked all the hours he could and had no social life outside of work related events. In fact, he thought to himself, I have no life at all. He didn’t even have a girlfriend to lighten his life a bit. He didn’t think he could ever let anyone get that close to him again. He tried to put his finger on when he had become like this – when he had got the news about Josh maybe? Or was he already on the road to nowhere long before that dreadful day?
Turning back to his office, his attention was caught by the framed painting on the wall. It was the only patch of brightness in his grey, drab, self-imposed prison. It was a bright, sunny painting showing the back view of two boys standing on a beach facing the sea. He remembered the pleasure he had felt painting it, using an old holiday snap for inspiration. How, at one stage, he had thought that was what he was going to do with his life- paint! What a contrast that would have been with his life as it was now – a world of colour compared to a world that seemed devoid of it.
The original photo had been taken on one of their annual family holidays to the south coast. Although the boys were dressed identically in bright tee shirts and shorts, he knew exactly which was which. He was on the left, standing straight facing the sea while Josh was on the right, fiddling with his shorts and looking for something on the beach. Trouble, probably!
He had tried hard not to think about Josh in the last year. It hurt too much – like having half of himself torn away. It was a feeling that maybe only identical twins could relate to. But now he had started, he found he couldn’t stop and the memories came flooding back.
Perhaps because of the painting, most of the memories were of their holidays. He supposed it must have rained sometimes but, in his head, it was always sunny, always warm and they spent most of the time running wild on the beach. Everything seemed brighter then, from the sunshine yellow of their identical tee shirts to the rainbow coloured huts lined up at the top of the beach. He remembered how Josh was always the daring one, always looking for the next adventure, the next rock to climb, the next pool to search. Always pushing his luck. Ed had always been the cautious one, half afraid but half enthralled by Josh’s suggestions. Even then, Ed thought, Josh had the ability to inspire confidence and the ability to lead – even if he hadn’t always had the courage to follow.
Ed wished that last thought hadn’t come into his head but, now it had, he couldn’t get rid of it. It was as if a dam inside his head had broken and all the thoughts and feelings he had suppressed for the last year came rushing out. How he had felt when, after excelling at Uni and taking a couple of years out to travel the world, Josh had told his family he was joining the army. That confusing mixture of pride, fear and the wish that he was brave enough to do the same instead of settling for safe a job in finance straight from Uni. Even though Josh had invited him to join in his travels, he just hadn’t had the confidence in himself to do it.
He remembered the pride he had felt when Josh had quickly won promotion followed swiftly by the fear when he had first been posted to Afghanistan. The fear that receded over time, pushed to the back of his mind because how could anything bad happen to the bright star that was his brother Josh? And the tales Josh brought when he came home on leave reinforced this – tales of camaraderie, playing down the danger, full of self-confidence, carrying everyone who listened along with his self-belief and showing his very obvious dedication to his job and to his men.
Ed remembered exactly where he was when he heard the news, in an extremely important meeting with a potential client. He remembered that he had felt unsettled, shivery as if he was starting the flu or something, before he went into the meeting but had thought it was because it was such an important client and he was worried he wouldn’t live up to his boss’s confidence in him. He winced as he remembered how annoyed he had felt when the meeting was interrupted by a message for him to call home urgently. Everything after that had become a blur. There was the repatriation, the funeral, the speeches and then the awarding of the posthumous medal for outstanding bravery. All these had seemed to be happening behind frosted glass – blurred, indistinct and somehow unreal. As if he was dreaming it but, of course, he wasn’t so there was no relieved morning awakening. Only an overwhelming greyness, that seemed to have invaded every part of his life.
He looked at the picture again and wished they were back there. Young and carefree with no thought for the future – no worries except for a regular telling off from their parents about the dirt and ripped clothes they usually managed to accumulate. He walked over to his desk and picked up his briefcase. Maybe now was the time, he thought, maybe now he would be brave enough. Reaching into a side pocket he pulled out a crumpled letter – addressed to him in Josh’s untidy scrawl. It had been in his personal effects and had been passed to Ed after the funeral but he just hadn’t been able to face opening it until now.
As he opened the envelope, hands trembling, something fell out onto the floor. Picking it up, Ed saw that it was the actual photo he had used for the painting. On the back Josh had written – “Remember this?” The letter was fairly short – Josh never had been much of a hand at writing letters – but Ed could almost hear his voice as he read.
Bro
If you are reading this it means that I finally pushed my luck just that little bit too far. Don’t be too sad for too long – I loved my job and I loved my life and, of course, I loved you! But I always knew the risks, and, to be honest, I don’t think I could have lived a life without big risks!
Now for the nitty gritty – and you have to respect the advice as it is obviously my last request! Ha! Stop wasting your life, Ed, stop doing something you hate and start doing something you love. Something that makes your heart beat faster. Do something that makes your life worth living – even if that life turns out not to be a long one. (Although, of course, I hope it does!)
The picture you painted from the photo of us is amazing – and I know how you loved painting it. I know in your heart that is what you really want to do so get out there and do it! Don’t waste another second! Don’t sit there worrying about the future – get out there and live it.
Promise me Ed. Promise me.
J
Ed sat for a long time staring at the letter, ignoring his phone when it rang and taking no notice of the increasing stack of unanswered emails on his computer screen. Finally, he stood up, stretched and walked over to the painting. Carefully lifting it down from the wall, he propped it up against his over full in-tray and, taking a deep breath, he pulled his keyboard towards him and began to type his letter of resignation.