Hand in Hand

Hmmm, what is this place? It stood before me like a giant tree jutting out of the Earth with great reverence. It wasn't a tree though. It was some kind of strange building. There was definitely a door that led inside; I could see it clear as day. No windows though. Why no windows? Did whoever owned this place not want anything looking in? Maybe they didn't want anything looking out? That thought scared me half to death for some reason. What could a person, or persons, be keeping inside some weird house in the woods, that they wouldn't want looking out? I mulled that thought over as I searched my backpack for the delicious sandwiches my wife had made me. There they were. Squashed at the bottom. Damnit! Who packed this bag? Was it me? Or was it that idiot son of mine, Jeff, or whatever his name was? Stupid kid. He was 38 going on 18. I looked over at him, standing there in the snow, staring at the house, mouth open, ready to catch flies and God knows what other woodland winged creatures.

"Oi!" I shouted at him.

He turned his head slowly, the rusted cogs of his neck straining to move after years of non-use. "Wha?" was all he could muster.

"You pack this bag?" I showed him the bag, and the squashed sandwiches.

"Me?"

"Yeah, you." I shook my head, already frustrated beyond all human belief. "Who else you think I'm talking to? The guy behind you?"

He spun his head around, the cogs all loose and free now. Obviously there was nobody there. He seemed surprised, and returned his gaze to me. "Err, yeah, I guess so."

I was angry now. "You GUESS so? What's that mean? Either you did or you didn't. It was only 5 hours ago. Has all the activity you've put your brain through since leaving home, been too much to handle, that you just forget that you packed this bag, and squashed my turkey sandwiches? Well? Answer me!"

He just carried on standing there, staring, mouth open again. I could tell that he wasn't going to make any attempt to answer me. I was going to just have to let it go. Then he smiled. A huge big grin. And burst into a fit of laughter. As did I.

"AAAAHHHHHH!" I bellowed. "Thought I had you there."

He was still laughing. "Yeah, real funny, father!" he managed between gasps of breath. "You know mum packed that bag for you. She does everything for you. You're useless."

I was shocked to my very core. How dare he? "How dare you?" I asked, all trace of humour gone.

His face calmed down, his eyes closed to tiny slits, and he stared at me. "No, you're right. You're the best thing that ever happened to her. She would be nowhere without you. You're the best husband and father ever."

"That's right," I said, simply, in agreement. "She knows wassup."

Truth is, I loved these little camping trips with my boy. Well, he was 26, as I said, but he was still my boy. Just me and him. A little fishing. A little exploring. A little banter. It was one of the few things I had left.

"See...?" Jeff said, piercing my day dream.

"What?"

"This place..." he continued, "I knew it could help you."

"You'd better not speak too soon, ya know. You don't know it's gonna help."

"Sure I do," he said, finally. "Come on. Let's go inside, and get things started."

I nodded, suddenly nervous. It had all been leading to this. All the trips back and forth to the doctors for over a year. The tests. The pills. The "therapy". None of it had helped. I had never been convinced that it would. I had always known I'd wind up here. It was the only way. Of course, the doctors had been forced to admit failure, and agree with me in the end. Nothing more we can do, they'd said. Exhausted all options. Just keep you comfortable when it gets too bad. Sod that! I was going out on MY terms. Nobody else's. Not theirs. Not God's. Not anybody's but mine. I was happy with the decision I'd made. But I still felt nervous about it.

"Come on, Dad," Jeff said, piercing my day dream once again. "Mum's inside."

I smiled. Oh yeah, I thought. She was already here. I'd forgotten. The thought made me happy again. And all the nervousness and fear dripped away immediately. I gave a little grunt of satisfaction at it all. Things were going to be ok. I had everything I needed with me. Wife. Son. Ham sandwiches. And a one way ticket through the tunnel. Yeah, everything was going to be all right.

I took out the squashed sandwiches, slung the bag over my shoulder, and followed my son into the strange house. Funny. It didn't look so strange now. It looked like a regular house. And where had all the trees gone? And the lake? I laughed again. These holidays were funny. I would take Jeff swimming later. He was only 7. He loved it.