Warning: Character Death
Disclaimer: Sea Patrol belongs to Channel Nine ect. Connor and Madeline belong to me
Two children stand side by side.
Their game of catch has been interrupted by a car door slamming. An old man, long white beard dripping down his face, has stepped onto the curb and they stare at him, head's angled to the side in surprise as the youngest mouth hangs open in astonishment. He's pretty sure he'll be gob smacked in a minute but that really depends on whether the old man comes towards him or goes to the creaking two storey mansion of a haunted house across from them. The old man hasn't been here in a while, not to their street, not since his wife died last summer and mummy and daddy dressed up in their black clothes. That was a sad day the eldest remembers. She and her brother weren't allowed outside that day; instead they had watched the stream of cars from the living room window, hidden behind the white lace of the curtains in their special spy corner. Lot's of people had dressed up like mummy and daddy, all in black and all looking far too serious for such a lovely bright day.
"Why are they in black?" asked her little brother and she'd told him because the man was really a spy like them except since he was bigger he had a special meeting with all the other big people in the street and they had to dress in black because they were pretending to be spy's like him, though she didn't know if that was true.
They haven't stopped staring at him yet and as he turns towards them, white beard sagging behind, he sneers at them nastily. The girl jumps back, gasping in surprise at being caught as the boy keeps staring. He can tell he's gob smacked now, he's yelling at his legs to move but they're stuck like glue and all he can do is wobble them like the red jelly daddy made last weekend that had stuck to the roof of his mouth. The man has picked his walking stick up and is waving at them forcibly; well as forcibly as an old man with a dripping white beard and bad knee's, a bad back, bad eyes and a nasty cough can.
He's given up on being mean now and is walking towards his old house, the house he was kicked out of when his laughing ballerina had left him last summer. That's what he'd called her when they had fallen in love. His beautiful laughing ballerina, while she danced around and around the kitchen table, singing and twirling as the wireless played softly in the background. Those kids across the road don't understand he sneered, stamping down to hard on the cracking concrete and sending a shooting pain up his back.
"Damn kids' he mumbles, continuing his snail's journey towards the front door while said kids continue to stare him down.
A front door slam's and they both spin in surprise. The girl gets it right and is facing her father while the boy over does it, landing instead to face the side hedge and a very curious, yellow eyed cat hiding beneath mummy's flower's. His mouth is opening in surprise, even raising his eyebrows, but his sister hit's him and he turns towards his father to. Both of them are staring in surprise now though his sister's shaking. He looks at her quickly, wondering if she's cold or sick before turning back to daddy and noticing the tears running down his stony face.
"Daddy" whisper's the girl quietly, taking a step towards him in horror. Daddy's aren't supposed to cry, not ever she remembers in fear. Only when they catch a whopper of a big one on the fishing boat like Uncle Spider did or when their cutting the onions for the barbeque and the Onion Queen squirts poison into their eyes because she can't see and thinks their evil men come to steal her Queendom. "Daddy' she whisper's again, this time louder as her own tears form and tumble down her cheeks. She doesn't know why she's crying, only that daddy is and that must mean the end of the world because their not on the fishing boat and unless daddy has some hidden in his pocket there's no onions either. Her daddy reaches one trembling arm out, grasping at the air before catching her shaking shoulder and pulling her roughly towards him. She's pressed against his chest tightly; her whole body is shaking from her own tears and the violent shudder of daddy as he cries's as well. Her brother's standing back, to afraid to go towards his father. He shakes his head no as his daddy calls to him, his voice not sounding like the daddy he's supposed to be.
"Please" he whisper's, so softly neither he nor his sister can tell if they imagined it or not.
Finally he let's his daddy grab his shoulder and pull him close as well. The two are squashed up against each other. The girl is crying though she doesn't know why and the boy is looking very unhappy. Their daddy's crying so loudly in the street, burying his head in both their shoulder's that not only is he leaving a wet patch on their clothes but the next door neighbours have come to find out what the racket is. The boy relaxes as Mrs from next door races towards him. She'll save them from this strange daddy he thinks happily, allowing his father to grab him tighter because it will be over in a minute.
They're both feeling extremely uncomfortable and daddy's showing no signs of stopping his terrible crying. Mrs. From next door is standing frazzled behind the clump of humans pressed together in front of her. She doesn't know what to make of it at all. The children look perfectly fine though the girl is shaking still. The boy looks extremely unhappy but not in any way hurt. Mr. though, well he was a complete mess! She'd never seen a grown man in such a state.
"She's gone" he manages to croak out, pulling the children tighter to him as a new wave of tears came. Mrs. From next door stands before the clump and suddenly feels like crying as well, tears already making themselves present in her eyes as she realises the impact of his words.
The little boy is very annoyed at this. It seems all the adults have lost their mind he thinks angrily! First the old dripping man who had waved his stick at them, then his daddy who he'd never seen in such a state before. His sister who had resumed her crying and shaking though she had no idea why. And finally Mrs from next door! She was supposed to save him from it all and make him a scone with sweet strawberry jam like she usually did when everything went wrong but instead she had started crying as well and all daddy had said was 'she's gone'!
"Who was gone?" he wonders in annoyance, suddenly very angry that no one had bothered to tell him what was going on! Maybe the lady from across the street that had been arguing with the man had gone? She never looked happy and he'd thought she could do with a holiday to Mickey Mouses house on the other side of the world where they where up side down and right side up all at once. Except why would Daddy, and his sister and Mrs. be crying if that lady had gone? He didn't even no her name! He was even more angry now, and pouted as a strange feeling built up in his chest. Something was bubbling up inside him and he was scared to let it go. It was coming closer and closer, up through his throat and he could hardly breathe. Almost there he thinks in horror, clamping his hands around his mouth to stop it escaping. Long, hot tears roll down his cheeks as the tugging inside of his heart explodes, sending pools of water down his face and dripping onto his new Bob the Builder shirt. Like his sister he doesn't know why he is crying, or why his daddy is upset, or who the lady was that was gone. All he knows is that something has changed. And he really doesn't like it!
That day had ended like the summer before. The street had shut down and cars had pulled up on the curb. People weren't wearing black, not yet, but they wore the same horrible expression that Daddy had plastered to his face. The clump hadn't moved until Mrs from next door had recovered and pried the teary eyed, shaking children away from their shattered father. He barely made it to the front door before he fell heavily against the frame, laying all his weight on it as his muscles gave out. The children hadn't slept that night, only wondered where mummy was and why she hadn't come home to read them their bed time story. The little boy almost felt like crying again as Mrs refused to let him ask daddy about mummy and after that he'd refused to talk to any one but his sister. And even that was only when he had to.
Four day's later they were promoted to big people and got to dress up in black clothes of their own as their aunty came around to get them dressed. Daddy wasn't feeling very well still, he had very red cheeks and sniffled when ever he saw them, and much to the children's horror mummy hadn't gotten home yet from her holiday even though she was supposed to have come on Monday. They shuffled in pain in their new shiny shoes to God's house down the street, where Father Jack had often given them biscuits, and their aunty had told them to sit in the front row until daddy came.
"Why are we here" whispered the boy to his sister, rubbing at where his new shoes where causing blisters. He tried to take them off but his sister hit him once more. "This is God's house" she reminded him "you can't take your shoes off at his house"
"Like at Catherine's house?" asked the boy in confusion. He didn't understand why he had to get new shoes that hurt and wasn't allowed to take them off.
"Exactly" nodded his sister, acting grown up even though he secretly knew she wasn't. He swung his feet quickly under the seat, counting how many times he could swing before hitting the chair in front of him. He looked around in boredom, asking any dressed up person when the visit would be over and he could go back home to play catching with his dog Tigger. Everyone just looked at him sadly before ruffling his head and telling him how sorry they were and that he was a brave boy. None of this made any sense to either child. They'd never met half the people so they had nothing to be sorry about and as far as they new neither had done anything particularly brave recently besides putting up with a broken father and neither understood what that meant. As Gods other visitors started coming into the room the boy noticed a giant box on wheels up near God's kitchen in front of him. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to the wooden contraption not two metres in front of them.
"It's a…giant cooking pot" nodded his sister "Obviously with all these people here God will need a big pot to cook lunch with" Her brother looked at her in disbelief but chose to say nothing, after all, it might be a big pot and if he'd said it wasn't and it was his sister would have teased him forever and a day.
He looked around the room once more, up at the colourful windows and the special writing on them, and as his eyes glanced down he saw is aunty walking towards him and his sister. He called out to her excitedly, waving his small arms over his head. He would have stood on the chair but something was telling him his sister would hit him if he did. His aunty smiled her special smile and he suddenly felt a lot better with her nearby.
"Are you two okay?" she asked ruffling his hair once more. He had to clamp down on his jaw to stop himself grizzling as after all, this was his aunty and if anyone was allowed to do that it was her. He thought about her question. He didn't feel particularly sick, but something didn't feel right. He was scared of his daddy. Not because he was being mean but because he looked so sad all the time. He hadn't cried since their fiasco on the lawn but he'd hardly spoken to them all week; only to tell the children how much he loved both he and his sister and that he'd keep them safe forever. In the little boy's opinion he hoped forever was soon because his daddy's bear hugs where beginning to hurt his chest and he had to where three different shirts a day because he kept getting tears on the others. The other thing worrying him was where mummy had gone. She'd promised him she'd be home to sing him a song before bed, but that had been five days ago and while he slightly remembered some one telling him she was lost he didn't remember much else.
Like with everything his sister beat him to the chase, asking their aunty if Mummy was coming today and if not when would she be home? Their aunty had looked at them in surprise, her mouth hanging open like the boy's did sometimes before she slowly sat down next to them. Taking both the children's hands in her own she'd tried to explain as simply as she could, though her voice kept breaking because she was crying so hard.
"Sweetheart, Mummy's not coming back, ever"
'Nooooooooooooooooooo' yelled a voice in the boys mind as his sister hiccuped into a trail of tears. He didn't even know what, what his aunty had just said meant but it all sounded horribly horrible if it meant his mummy was never coming back! The struggle in his chest broke out against him but this time he didn't bother fighting it, instead he let it all come out as he burst into tears loudly, letting them all fall down his cheeks freely. He vaguely remembered his aunty pulling him into a hug before his daddy arrived and he curled up in his lap. He refused to talk to anyone, and kept his eyes shut except for watching his sister shake once more as she cried, curled against daddy's side while he held her tight. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to ignore God's house and God's helper speaking up near the kitchen where the big pot that wasn't a pot stood and where in fact his mummy, who would never sing to him again and never play with him again and never ever hug him again, was lying. He kept his eyes shut all day and all afternoon though it was really only an hour. Even when daddy picked him up to go to the car he refused to move or open them. Suddenly it all became too much and he burst into to tears once more, sobbing against his daddy's black shoulder as the pairs tears mixed together.
"I want mummy" he sobbed, over and over again. He refused to open his eyes until she was back with him and his shaking sister and shattered daddy.
"I want mummy" he continued all the way through the car journey, wrapped up in a blanket against his daddy's side while the seat belt cut across his face leaving a strange pattern on his cheek.
It wasn't until they reached the big park with all the little concrete houses that he stopped crying. He had no more left so instead he sat sniffling in his daddy's arms, his blanket still wrapped around him warmly. His eyes were getting sore from being held so tightly but he didn't care. He wasn't opening them until some brought back his mummy, even if that took forever. He did how ever tug on his sister's sleeve to whisper to her while God's helper talked. "I don't like dress up spy games with the big people" he whispered solemnly "even if we do get to where black" and his sister nodded solemnly in agreement.
Two children stand side by side.
Their daddy's standing between them as he tries to stop the tears falling down his face.
Before them a little concrete house stands by a shady tree in the big park. The little girl looks towards the sky to where her mummy is watching her and smile's while her daddy places a bunch of beautiful flowers in front of the house. If the little boy would open his eyes he might decide that this is the perfect spot for his mummy, and one day he will, but right now he's waiting for a miracle before he opens his eyes and no one can persuade him otherwise.
Lt Commander Katline Jade Flynn (nee McGregor)
17 May 1979 23 September 2014
Beloved husband of Michael James Flynn and mother of Madeline Flynn and Connor Flynn
We love you Mummy
Forever
