Plenty of Time

Martin and Rubber were sitting on Martin’s back porch.  It was a hot summer’s day and they were sipping ice cold drinks.  They watched Martin’s B’s humming around their hives.

“So,” Rubber said after a while “how did you like your holiday in the Big City?”

 

“I enjoyed it very much.” answered Martin.  “The City is a great place to visit, but I do not think I could live there.”

 

“Really?  How so?”

 

“Well,” Martin began “There were many things to see.”

 

“Yes.” said Rubber, taking out his pipe.

 

“…and there were many, many things to do.”

 

“Indeed.” said Rubber, packing his pipe with tobacco.

 

“…and so many people to meet…” Martin continued.

 

“That there were…” said Rubber, lighting his pipe with a match.

 

“Of course, there was all the different food, and more donuts than I have ever seen in my life!”  Martin’s eyes glazed over for a moment, recalling the multicoloured ranks of donuts in one bakery Rubber had taken him to.  It had been like a morning in heaven.

 

“But I think there was too much of everything.”  Martin said suddenly, coming back to the present.

 

“Ah…” Rubber said. He puffed on his pipe, and waited.

 

“People had so much food that most of them had forgotten how hard it is to grow it.  They no longer know how valuable it is.  Did you know, so many times it seemed people there would rather throw perfectly good food in the garbage than use it to feed someone who did not have enough?”

 

“That is true.” agreed Rubber “I have seen that myself.”

 

“…and there are so many things to have there that many people no longer knew the difference between ‘need’ and ‘want’.  Everywhere there were signs telling them how much they needed things.  Silly things.  That was very strange.  People wound up having so many things that they had to look after, find a home for, repair or replace.  It seemed like a full time job!” Martin concluded.

 

“Really?  You think so?” Rubber’s pipe had gone out.  He lit another match.

 

“I do.  And you know?  It was the same with the things to do!  Everyone had so many things to do and they worked so hard to do them that even the things that were supposed to be fun just made them stress.  Something is wrong when you have to play so many games that none of them are any fun.  That is very weird.  Do you know the worst thing though?”  Martin asked.

 

Rubber looked up, puffing his newly lit pipe and shaking out his match “Tell me the worst thing.” He said.

 

Martin leaned toward him and said quietly “It is the same with the people.”

 

“Whatever do you mean?” asked Rubber innocently.

 

“It is the same with the people.” Martin repeated.  “There are so many people there that most of them seem to have lost the value of people.  Hardly anyone seemed to know how valuable or hard a real friendship is.  They had so many people to choose from that someone could just pick a friend, and if there was some tiny, tiny little thing that went wrong, they just discarded that friend and tried to find another one.  They never fixed anything!  They never mended clothes.  They just threw them out and bought some more.  They never fixed broken things.  They just threw them out and bought some more.  If they found out a friend was broken, they just threw them out and tried to find another.  And everyone is a little bit broken.  No wonder so many of them seemed lonely.”

 

The two friends sat quietly.  Martin drank his drink, listening to his B’s.  Rubber puffed away on his pipe and leaned his head on the wall.  The sun was hot on his face.  He closed his eyes.  The air smelled of hay.

 

“There was one thing the City people did not have enough of though.”  Martin said eventually.  Rubber turned his head and opened his eyes.

 

“Oh yes?  What was that then?”

 

“Time.” answered Martin.  “Did you know, they have so little time that everyone is given a little Time Sharing Machine?  They called it a TSM.  If ever they want to do something, they have to type it into the TSM and the TSM would tell them if they can do at and when they can do it.  I asked lots of people if they wanted to have a donut and some coffee with me.  They would ask their TSM and then say ‘Sorry, I don’t have the time.’.  It would be very sad to have a machine tell you what you can and cannot do all the time.”

 

“It would.” Rubber agreed.  “And speaking of time…”  Rubber tapped his pipe on the step to empty the old tobacco “…it is time for me to go home.  Tahoma and I are going to cook up a big batch of C food.  Would you like to come over?  I have an old bottle of Port we could open after dinner…”

 

“Well…” began Martin “…I am not a very important person.  I do not have gold taps in my bathroom.  I do not have an important career meeting to go to.  I do not have lots of money and I do not own a million Things To Do.  But I do have plenty of time.”

 

Rubber laughed and slapped Martin on the back “That’s all we need!”

 

And so the two old friends strolled down the path to Rubber’s house, spending their time together…

 

 

 

 

Martin and the Wordsmith

 

Martin stood in his backyard.  He was watching words mill around in a pen he had built for them.  He had brought them all back from a trip to the City he made last year.

“I really cannot think of a use for any of these words.” He said aloud.

He took a box and carefully rounded up the stray words.

“Off to the Wordsmith we go.” Marin told them “Maybe he can make something of you.”

 

Martin set off to town, carrying his box of words. It was early in the autumn.  Trees alongside the road were turning colour.  There were yellows, browns and reds of all shades. 

 

In town, Martin headed for the Wordsmith’s Forge. Skrabel, the Wordsmith greeted him with a loud “Hello there Martin!”  He was a huge, strong man – well used to wrestling with difficult grammar and hammering out rough punctuation.  With his muscles, skills and tools he could straighten out the most twisted phrases.  He would surely know what to do with Martin’s City words!

 

“I have these for you, Skrabel.” Said Martin, sitting his box of words of the rough old counter.  “What can you make of them?”

“Hmmm…” rumbled Skrabel the Wordsmith.  “They’re a funny lot aren’t they…”

He pulled one of the smaller ones out. “LONELY…”  well, this one is easy.  A little work should make this one just Lovely…”

 

He reached for another.  “PETTY?  That’s rather small is it not?”  He laid it carefully aside.

“And what are these?” Skrabel cried as he tugged at two long ones “MANDATORY REDUNDANCY?”

“Those two are always together.” Martin commented, trying to be helpful.

“Well!” boomed Skrabel “I will have to do something with the first one, but I think I already have one of the others.  I will see what I can do.”

 

Skrabel emptied the box of words onto his counter.  “UNATTRACTIVE…” he observed, laying the last one down.  “Hmmm…  I think I can knock a couple of letters off him and he will be much better looking.  You leave these with me young Martin.  I’ll have some words you can really use when you come back.”

 

Later that day, Martin came by the Smithy.  He could hear Skrabel hammering away in his forge, giving some un-known word better definition.

“Hi!  Skrabel!” Martin called.

The hammering stopped and the enormous Wordsmith emerged from the red heat of his forge.  “Ah!  Martin!” he boomed.  “I have something for you!”

Skrabel lifted a big bunch of words onto the counter.

“These ought to be more use to you!”

 

Martin looked over the words.  They were, indeed, much better than those he had brought back from the City.

“Thank you” said Martin “these are great!”

“Just wait.”  Skrabel held up a huge, stubby finger “I have one more for you…”

Carefully Skrabel lifted one more word, quite long, onto the counter.

“That is beautiful!” Martin observed.

“Correct!” said Skrabel with a grin.

 

Martin looked at the word thoughtfully “I think this should go to a Certain Someone.” He said to himself.

“Ah, and we all know who that Certain Someone is, do we not?” Skrabel said, overhearing.

Martin went a little red.  “Maybe.” was all he said.

“Well, you say Hello to the young lass for me when you see her.  On your way, young Martin!”  Skrabel waved one massive hand as he disappeared back into his forge.

 

Martin collected his words and went on his way.

 

“Oh, hello Martin.” Said Rebecca when she answered a knock at her door “Are you coming in?”

“Hello Rebecca. Yes I am.” Martin answered, and he came in.

Onyx the cat jumped lazily from a window sill and rubbed first against Rebecca’s leg, then against Martin’s.  Then he padded over to a patch of sun and curled up on the floor.

 

“What have you got there?” Rebecca asked, indicating Martin’s box of words.

“Oh, these are some words that Skrabel the Wordsmith made up for me.” Martin put the box on the kitchen table.  Rebecca moved to peek inside.  Sunlight rippled over her long red hair.  It reminded Martin of the autumn leaves on the trees.

 

He quickly covered the box.  “There is a surprise.” He explained.

Martin carefully opened the box while Rebecca tried to peek.

“I thought I would give this one to you.” He told her as he pulled out a long-ish word.

“Oh, it is beautiful!” Rebecca’s eyes shone.

“Correct!” said Martin happily.

 

Rebecca tried it on.

 

“It is you.” Was all Martin had to say.

 

“Thank you Martin,” Rebecca began “but I have nothing to give you in return.”

“Oh, that is okay.” Martin waved a dismissive hand “If I was supposed to get something in return it would not be a present, it would be a trade.  And this is a present.”

 

Rebecca smiled “You are a lovely man Martin.” She said as she walked around the table to him “So here is a present to you, from me.”

Standing on her toes, Rebecca gave Martin a kiss.  For a long moment, Martin’s whole world was the warmth of her against him, the smell of her hair and her skin, and the taste of her mouth.

 

And for that, Martin had absolutely no words at all.

Martin and the City God

One day, Martin the B Keeper and his good friend Rubber the E Raiser were in the city.

“Let’s go and visit the City God!” said Rubber.

“Really?” asked Martin, his voice muffled by a mouthful of hot jam donut.  “You can really visit a god here?”

“Yes, you can.” Said Rubber.  “He lives in that building at the end of the street.”

The building at the end of the street was the tallest in the whole city.  Martin was sure the top of it touched the clouds.

 

They walked together to the end of the street.  Martin stood at the base of the huge building and looked straight up.

“It looks like it is falling over!”  He cried.

“That is just an optical illusion.” Rubber reassured him.  “All tall buildings do that.”

“Oh.” Said Martin.

 

They walked through the enormous glass doors that opened all by themselves.  Inside it was very quiet.

“What is this god’s name?” whispered Martin as they walked on a white marble floor between rows of tall pink marble columns.  Their footsteps ticked and echoed in the quiet.

“His name is Share X. Change.” Rubber whispered back. 

“What’s the ‘X’ stand for?”

“Shhh.  We are coming to the Inner Sanctum.  You will see him speak.”

They went on in awed silence, and entered the Inner Sanctum.

 

Many people were there, but all you could hear was the occasional shuffling of feet.  Everyone stood.  There were no chairs or seats.  They were staring at a huge screen.  Martin stared too, watching the great god Share X Change speak.

 

Share made no sound when he spoke.  His words flowed across the big black screen in glowing red letters and numbers.  Martin could not understand any of it but he watched all the same, fascinated to see what a god might say.

 

After a time, Rubber tapped Martin on the elbow, and they turned and strolled quietly back down the colonnade.  Both seemed sunk in their own thoughts.

 

 

“Rubber…” Martin began, after they had found a café and bought hot coffee and iced donuts (for there is nothing in the world Martin loved more than donuts).

“Mmm?” said Rubber, sipping coffee through a mouthful.

“What does the god Share X Change do?  Is it like his name?  Does he share?”

Rubber thought for some time.  “Sort of.” He said finally.

 

“People bring to the god their money.  They will sell their belongings and bring the god the money they make.  They bring to him their hopes and their dreams and their families and they ask him to make them rich with things.”

 

“And is that what he does?” asked Martin.

“Sort of.  It is not that simple.” Rubber answered.

“Why not?”

“Well.” began Rubber “First you must learn the language Share speaks.  It is a code.  If you do not know how to read what he says, Share will take all you give him.

“Then you must learn to interpret what Share has said.  If you do not know exactly how and when to give him your money, Share will take all you give him.”

 

“Oh.” Said Martin.  “Is he always like that?”

“Oh no” said Rubber.  “Sometimes, when he is Riding the Bull, Share is generous with everyone, and gives to everyone who comes to him.  But sometimes he is Riding the Bull and it Crashes, and he must Ride the Bear.  Then he takes from everyone who comes anywhere near him.”

“Then why doesn’t everyone come to him when they see him on the bull?” Martin asked.

“Ah!  That is because no-one can actually see the great god Share riding the bull.  They can only tell if he is riding the Bull when he begins giving money to everyone.  They can only tell if he has crashed the Bull and is Riding the Bear when he takes money away from everyone.”

 

“So, you could bring everything you have to this god and give it to him and he might just take it all away or he might be very generous and you can never really know what he will do even if you learn the language he speaks and learn what he means when he speaks it?

“Doesn’t sound like a very fair god to me.” Martin decided.  “I do not think I will offer any of my money to this god.”

 

“No, nor will I.” said Rubber before muttering quietly “…ever again…”

 

And the two old friends ate their donuts and sipped their coffee, comfortably sunk in their own thoughts...

 

The River Picnic

 

The great river tracked its way along the valley floor, flowing between ranks of thick, lush trees and, briefly, between the old stone buildings that made up a small village.  There it donated the tiniest fraction of its power to an ancient waterwheel.  In truth, the river did not even notice the loss.  It glittered like snake scales under the bright sun, shimmering in silvers and blues and greens.

 

Fed from the mountains, it was deep and fast.  It was always cold, no matter how hot the weather, and today was a very hot day.  In the middle of the afternoon, the town was dozing lethargically, baking in a hot summer oven.

 

A little further downstream the river curled around a cluster of huge old willows.  Thick grass grew on the banks.

 

There was a blanket.

 

There were the remains of a picnic on and around it.

 

People lay around in various states of repose…

 

Maring and Rebecca lay on the grass in the sunshine.  Their bodies were still damp and tingling after a dip in the freezing cold river.  Their clothes felt like they had been sitting in the baker’s ovens while they swam.

 

Rubber the E Raiser and his wife Tahoma sat at the river’s edge, dangling their feet in the water and staring idly at the glimmering ripples around their legs.

 

Scrabble the Wordsmith was a gently snoring mountain of well-fed belly in the dappled shade of an old willow.

 

Serif, Rubber and Tahoma’s son who minded his P’s and Q’s on a farm over the hill from his parents, sat against the old willow’s trunk, whittling at a piece of old wood.

 

“Oh, this really is the life…” sighed Rebecca, stretching languidly in the soft warm grass.

“Right you are Miss Becky.” Agreed Rubber, who smiled and nudged Tahoma with his shoulder.  “Nout to do but sit and make sure the river gets watched for the afternoon…”

“Aye!” Tahoma piped up “…and kill the fish with your smelly old feet!”.

“Yours may smell my dear” began Rubber in a well rehearsed retort “but my feet are clean and pure as the snow.”

“Hah!” Tahoma tried, almost successfully, to push Rubber into the river.

 

 

“There was never anything like this in the city.” Rebecca said to Martin as Rubber and Tahoma descended into the good natured bickering they were famous for.

 

“No?  Why not?” Martin asked

“Never any time.  You could never just lie around doing nothing.  You couldn’t just recklessly spend time like this.  It was far too ‘valuable’.”

 

Martin was quiet for a while.  Then he pushed himself up on one elbow.

 

“’Becc?” he began, eventually “What did you do in the City?”

“Haven’t I said?” she asked after a short pause.

“No.”

“Oh.” Another pause. “I was in the… hospitality industry.” She said finally.

“Okay.” Said Martin “Is that something you might do here?”

“No.” Rebecca said quickly.  “No, I will find something else to do here.”

“Fair enough.” Said Martin, guessing correctly that it was time to change the subject.

“Well, in the meantime you can just spend time…”

“Yes.” Rebecca agreed, feeling relieved.

“…and maybe sometime you would like to help me with my B’s?”

“Yes, I would like that.”

 

Martin lay back on the grass and covered his eyes against the sun’s glare, feeling very content.  Rebecca lounged next ho him and sighed, relaxing.  He could feel her shoulder just touching his.

 

Under the huge old willow, Scrabble regarded the pair with one open eye for a few more seconds, then shifted to a more comfortable position and drifted thoughtfully back to sleep.

 

They all lazed around the river for the whole afternoon, making sure it was watched properly.

 

Just spending time.

Catching Z's

 It was late in the summer.  The day was hot and humid and heavy, like living in an old oven.  Even Martin’s Bs were quiet.  There was nothing to do.

 

Martin was bored.

 

He closed all his curtains to keep out some of the heat.  It made his house warm and dim.  Then we wandered out the front door and down the lane to the house of his friend Rubber the E Raiser.

 

Rubber’s house was very quiet.  Martin tapped softly on the door.  There was no answer.  He padded quietly around the back and peeked into the living room.  Rubber and his wife Tahoma were fast asleep in their chairs.

 

Martin left them to their snoozing and headed up the trail by the river.  Just outside the town, Martin tapped on the door of a small cottage.  There was no answer.  Peering through the kitchen window, Martin spied Onyx, the owner’s black cat, sleeping in a shadowy corner of the kitchen floor.

 

No-one else was home.

 

Martin sighed and decided to walk home across Rubber’s fields of Es, which were not far away.

 

Along the way Martin passed a huge shady tree.  There was a figure lying on the cool green grass in the tree’s vast shade.  Martin wandered curiously over the see who it might be.  The figure turned out to be a girl with long red hair, lying on her back, hands clasped over her stomach, her eyes closed.  Martin knew that when they were open, they were of the deepest blue.  He wondered briefly if anyone in the world looked so pretty.

 

The girl opened her eyes.  “Oh, hello Martin.” She said sleepily.  “I was just catching some Z’s.”

 

“Hello Rebecca.” Said Martin.  “I told you this was a fine place to catch them!”

 

“Mmm, yes.  You were right.”

 

“May I catch some Z’s with you?” Martin asked.

 

“Certainly you may.” Rebecca said, patting the grass next to her.  “There are plenty to go ‘round!”

 

Martin lay down next to Rebecca and closed his eyes.  He folded his hands over his stomach.  His shoulder touched hers.  It was lovely and warm.

 

“What do you do with the Z’s after you catch them?” Martin asked eventually.

 

“I put them in jars for my friends in the City.”  Rebecca answered, her eyes closed again.  “They never have enough time to catch their own.  Their TSMs never allow it.”

 

“Their Time Sharing Machines?” said Martin.  “I know what they are.  The little machines that tell the City people what they must do and when they must do it.”

 

“Sometimes they are called Organisers.” Rebecca added.  “When I came up here I threw mine away.  It did not like that at all.”

 

“I have never had an Organiser.” Said Martin.

 

“You are very lucky.” Rebecca informed him.

 

The two new friends lay on the warm grass under the shade of the huge tree and spent a lazy afternoon, eyes closed, hands folded over their stomachs and shoulders touching (for this is the best way for catching Z’s).

 

 

Martin Meets Someone

 It was a very hot summer’s day.  Martin had been in his backyard, building a new hive for his B’s.  Soon after he came inside for a drink, there was a knock on the door.

 

Martin strolled to the door and opened it.  A very pretty girl he did not know was standing in the sun.  Her long straight hair was very red.

 

“Hello, I am Martin.” Said Martin.

 

“Hello, I am Rebecca.” Said the girl.  “I have been walking and it is very hot.  May I have a glass of water?”

 

“Of course.” Said Martin.  “Come in.”

 

Rebecca followed Martin into his kitchen.  He poured her a glass of cold water and put in some ice.  Then he made another for himself.

“We can sit on the back step if you like.  It is cooler there.” He suggested.  Rebecca agreed.  They sat on the back step.

 

“What are they?” asked Rebecca, pointing out Marin’s B hives.

 

“Oh, they are my B hives.” He answered.  “They are for my B’s.”

 

“Oh.” Said Rebecca.  She sipped her drink.

 

“Where are you from?” asked Martin, after he had crunched an ice block.

 

“I am from the City,” Rebecca answered “but I have moved here.  I live just outside the town with Onyx.  He is my cat.  He is black.”

 

“I have been to the City!” Said Martin “I went with my friend Rubber.  He is an E raiser.  We went to the market and to the beach and to Share X. Change the City God and I ate a lot of donuts.”

 

Rebecca laughed.  Martin thought he would do anything to hear that sound again.  “Yes, I am sure you did.” She said, her corn-flower blue eyes bright with amusement.

 

“Why did you move here?” Martin asked, mainly to make her talk again so he could listen to her voice some more.

 

Rebecca sighed “I wanted to catch some Z’s.” she said.  “There is never enough time to do that in the City.  I got so tired doing everything I had to do there and all I wanted to do for ages was catch some Z’s.  So here I am.”

 

“I know some great places to catch a few Z’s.  I could show them one day if you like.” Martin offered.

 

Rebecca smiled “That would be lovely.”

 

They sat on the back step and talked some more.  Martin fetched more iced water.  Rebecca talked about the City.  Martin told her all about the little town, and Rubber’s farm, and his Bs.  Sometimes they just sat quietly, drinking their drinks and listening to the hum of the Bs.

 

The sun began to fade.

 

Rebecca stood up and stretched.  “I must go home and feed Onyx.” She said.

 

Martin stood as well and they went inside.

“Thank you for the drinks and for a lovely afternoon.” She said when they reached the front door.

 

All at once Martin spoke “Did you know that once a butterfly landed in my hand?  It was very beautiful.  It rained a bit so I held a hand over it and then the wind blew I held my hand next to it so it was sheltered and could stay as long as it liked but I didn’t hold it too tightly to make it stay or I would have crumpled it and then it would not be beautiful anymore and that was the whole reason I wanted it to stay so I was sad when it flew away but happy because it had stayed as long as it liked…”

 

Rebecca cocked her head to one side.  Her hair fell over one eye.  The other looked at him quizzically.  Martin went red.  “Um, This afternoon has been a bit like that…” he said, suddenly embarrassed.

 

Rebecca smiled.  “You are a very sweet man,” she said “but I am not like your butterfly.”

 

“Oh.” Said Martin, cursing himself for having said something so silly.

 

Then Rebecca gave him a quick kiss on his cheek.  She smelled of orange and vanilla.  “Unlike your butterfly, I did not get to stay as long as I liked.” She said.  She walked to the front gate, waved once, then headed back toward the town.  The sun was setting fast.  To Martin it seemed she was taking the light and the colour away with her.

 

Martin sat on his back step in the warm dusk, listening to his Bs settle down for the night.  With his head full of the afternoon he had spent with Rebecca, Martin ate a whole box of donuts, but none of them tasted as good as her name…

 

Martin and the Beach

 

It was a warm night. 

 

Outside, the air smelled like Spring.  Martin the B Keeper and Rubber the E Raiser were feeling restless.  They decided to go for a walk.

“Let’s walk to the beach!” said Martin.

“Lead the way Martin.” Said Rubber.

 

They took Rubber’s dog, Wingdings.

 

They walked down the main street of town to the beach.  After all the lights of the street the beach seemed dark and cool.  Martin and Rubber walked along the sand, right next to the water so they could hear the waves lapping near their feet.  Wingdings ran off ahead, sniffing at everything.

 

Martin and Rubber walked until they came to the docks.  The docks were lit up, bright as day.  An old, narrow pier ran out to sea near the docks.  They wandered out to the end.

 

They could see a huge ship from there, all red and white in the flood lights.  Its nose was raised high, and trucks drove in and out of its mouth on its long metal tongue.  People were standing around on the decks.  Sometimes Martin and Rubber could hear them talking, but it was too far away to know what they were saying.

 

Rubber took his old pipe out of his coat pocket, stuffed it with tobacco, lit it and leaned on the piers rickety railing.  Soon sweet pipe smoke mixed with the smell of salt and sea.

 

Martin watched the ship.  “I wonder where it is going?” he said, mostly to himself.

“Could be anywhere.” Said Rubber, puffing on his pipe.

They both watched the ship, thinking about the exotic, far away places it might be going.

 

“Maybe it is going to Casablanca.” Rubber said after a while.

“Where is Casablanca?” asked Martin, tasting the new word on his tongue.  It tasted warm, like spice.

“Morocco, I think.”

“Morocco…” Martin thought that word tasted like coffee.  Coffee and spice. An exotic place indeed!

 

The two friends stood at the end of the old pier and watched the ship in silence, thinking their own thoughts.  Rubber refilled his pipe and puffed away.

 

In time, the trucks stopped driving in and out of the big ship.  Crewmen shouted orders, and machinery creaked and hummed.  The ship pulled its tongue into its mouth and its nose came down.  There was a deep rumbling as the engines started and, with three loud blasts of its foghorn, the ship left the dock and began turning out to sea.

 

People on the decks waved.  Martin and Rubber waved back, and watched until ship became a little bundle of lights in the darkness.  Then they called Wingdings and walked back along the beach, and home.

 

Back at the house Martin, Rubber and Rubber’s wife Tahoma sat in big old armchairs and drank hot chocolates.  Rubber talked about all the different places he had been to before he became an E Raiser.

 

Later, Martin drifted off to sleep in his bed, and dreamed of coffee and spices and places far, far away…