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The Awakening
By
Ray
His eyes opened. The white
ceiling looked back at him… Where was he? …Who was he? …He had been walking…
walking... yes but to where? He had been on his way to work… No… he had been on
his way back home... Home... to whom…? From where? The work had been dirty. He
remembered that much… He lifted his hands… but they were clean.
How long had he been lying here? He heard voices outside… distant
mumbling voices that did not sound familiar… voices… who had said the fond
farewells to him as he went to work that morning... It was that morning that he
had gone to work… wasn’t it...?
He closed his eyes and the darkness enabled him to see more clearly. He
was walking along the old waggonway. It was all so familiar. He felt tired…. well
you would do after a twelve hour shift at the Dolly… The Dolly… That’s where he
had spent his last twelve hours… hewing coal and swallowing coal dust. He heard
a whistle from the other side of the hedge as the coal wagons from his efforts
were hauled towards the town by a panting black engine. Hannah would have his
tea ready when he returned. The bairns would be playing outside the front door.
It was much better in the summer when there were still a few hours of daylight
when he returned from work… How different in the winter when he left home early
in the morning in the darkness, worked for twelve hours in the darkness and
then returned home in the darkness. The darkness… oppressive…
He opened his eyes to rid himself of the darkness… He looked again at
the ceiling… He turned his head slowly to survey his situation and his neck
ached. It must have been a heavy shift. He usually didn’t suffer from aches and
pains. How old was he…? He was still a young man. Closing his eyes he
remembered that the Dolly had been his second pit. He had started as a putter
at the Peggy when he was fourteen. He had worked at that for about four years,
building up his stamina and insensitivity to the pain before he progressed to
the coal face as a hewer. He had met Hannah about the same time on a Sunday outing
organised by the Chapel… They had started walking out and it was not long
before they were being married in the same chapel... and only seven months
later that young Tom was being christened. It wouldn’t be long before Tom would
be going along with him on his first
shift. His life was mapped out for him but his sister Margaret’s was yet an
open book. The teacher at the village school had told them that she was clever,
but as a miner’s daughter what doors would be opened for her?
He heard a voice… He thought that the voice was talking about him… He
opened his eyes again and saw a man he did not know. He was young, tall and he
wore a white coat. He was talking to a nurse… He thought it was a nurse but the
white clad figure was wearing trousers… He looked at the figure and yes, the
shape was that of a woman. They were saying that he was stable and the police
would be coming soon to talk to him.
He wondered why the police would want to talk to him... He had never
crossed the boundaries of the law… apart from the odd poached rabbit.
He closed his eyes again to greet familiarity. He thought about popping
into the Three Horseshoes for a quick pint before his tea but walked on
realising that one pint would lead to three. It was a fine night and he
contemplated an hour on the allotment after his tea. He had a fine crop of
taties and carrots this year, and Hannah would soon be making good use of them
in the kitchen. He began to ache again and he opened his eyes. The room was
stark and clinical. The voices continued a little way off and he was alone. A
sudden thirst came over him. Looking around the room he saw a tap over a sink
and he moved to fill the empty glass that was beside his bed with some water.
He slipped out from beneath the sheet and taking the class he moved unsteadily
towards the sink. Filling the glass he raised it to his lips and looking into
the mirror he saw a man he did not know.