Eleven -Island Time - Excerpts from Ianto's Journal continued.
I love the future. They have solved the 'how to keep food fresh without it going icky' problem. To cut a long story short all fresh foods are wrapped in what looks like plastic-type foil which reminds me of the stuff you make helium novelty balloons out of. Anyway, the food is as fresh as the day it was picked and/or wrapped. Jack explained that he tried to get as much Earth equivalents as he could. Bananas in particular proved to be a bit of a challenge. I was intrigued to why he had gone to so much trouble and he just smiled.
Now I understand. Bevan is a banana monster. He loves and adores this fruit hence his self-declaration in the park. His first ever solid meal was mashed-up bananas. The look on his face as he took his first mouthful was a treat. He was sitting on Jack while we fed him. As he took the first spoonful his face lit up and then his legs started to move and it was clear he wanted more. He reached out for the bowl and made 'num num' noises as we loaded up the spoon. Once it was all gone we had to show him the empty bowl, and we both burst out laughing at the look of disappointment on his face. Now every meal has to have a starter of banana. You can see him watching our every move, his whole body is aquiver of impatience as we prepare. I love the way he gets his legs going when we move into position to feed him then opens his mouth even before the spoon is full.
After months of not eating I can't stop. The all-day gorging begins at breakfast with a bowl of cereal followed by four slices of toast dripping with butter, jam or honey. This is washed down with a large glass of juice followed by a top-up. Mid-morning I have a milk shake which interrupts my after-breakfast but before-lunch snacking. Lunch today was a large green leaf salad laden with chicken with skin, covered in dressing, topped with grated cheese and two bread rolls… alright, four bread rolls. Afters was several pieces of fruit including two bananas.
How I manage to get to dinner surviving on a few bit of fruits and biscuits because every day I nearly die of 'famation'. I need meat, real meat, red meat…answering my plight Jack cooked me a huge steak (leave the fat on man!), with fries, mushrooms and onions. Every mouthful was divine. I am a true carnivore and I licked the plate clean of all and any meat juices. This was followed by Jack's now famous double, triple ice cream chocolate thick shake with real strawberries.
It is the strangest feeling to be full, yet starving hungry. I am so demanding and impatient I've been banned from the kitchen as I get in the way. At times I want to sit at the table, knife and fork in each hand, banging the table. Jack tells me there is a lot of Bevan in me when it comes to impatience and food.
Being so hungry all the time has meant I have become hyper-aware of the fruit growing all around us. It is the legacy of a garden which has now gone wild which I daily give thanks for because I have become a fruit fanatic. In my defence I am hungry and the fruit just hangs there begging to be picked.
They are all delicious but one stands out over all the others as King of all fruit and that's 'Wongai' fruit. It's kind of oblong, and unripe it's blue and then goes deeper and deeper purple as it ripens. It has a tough slick outer skin and the easiest way to get into one is to bite the top off then squeeze the juice into my mouth. I spit out the seed to allow more trees to grow.
Using teeth and hands I rip each apart to get at the firmer pink flesh which I strip bare. The really ripe ones I roll around in my hand to loosen all the pulp; once you bite off the top you just squirt the thick juice out. Sometimes it comes out with a bit of a fizz and those ones are just on the turn. The overripe ones turn to red. I try to avoid those but eventually my greed may catch out me out because I just grab and eat. If the antics of the spider monkey squirrels are anything to go by overripe Wongai fruit cocktails come with one hell of a punch. The fruit swell up and will eventually explode scattering their contents so as long as I avoid all the red bloated ones I should be okay. I've made visiting each tree part of my daily routine. Some fruit is harder to reach so it has been great for upper body strength and stretching.
Jack suggested I should join 'Wongai Anonymous' because I have such an addiction. I replied I would never join as I don't have an addiction. Jack placed a ripe Wongai on the table and looked at his watch. Yes! Alright I admit it. 'Hello I am Ianto Jones and I'm a Wongaiholic'.
Another milestone today; Bevan finally flipped over. Jack and I sat for most of his playtime cheering him on as he almost made it several times then with a final push of effort he did it. On finding himself on his tummy he was so surprised he burst into tears. We both clapped and whooped at his achievement, picked him up and danced around the room. I sometimes wonder if other parents are as potty as we are, but as Jack pointed out this is a major milestone towards crawling. So we celebrated hard because it means he's hitting all his milestones just as he should.
Jack is so knowledgeable when it comes to small children again I am tempted to ask but on the other hand I don't want to go there. Yet part of me is deeply curious. Much of his past is so hidden, he never shared. On the other hand I didn't share my past either. With so much going on around us at TW we never really shared anything about our respective pasts. It was like we had this unwritten agreement that Jack wouldn't say and I wouldn't ask and vice versa. I was never sure if it was because he had something to hide or he just didn't want to share. My reticence came from his reluctance. This is getting heavy; my next sentence will be 'maybe he shared it with her'. Dysfunctional doesn't even being to describe the truly fucked up nature of whatever the fuck we had. I don't even want to begin to try and unravel the supreme monumental fuck-up our current situation represents. Enough, Bevan needs a bath.
Today was a riot. Just after we got here I had laid down a bet to Jack that involved catching one of the flying monkey squirrels. Well today Jack completed that challenge.
The small creatures find us endlessly fascinating and seem to spend an inordinate amount of time following us about. In fact one or two accompany us wherever we go. Jack's plan involved a great deal of patience. Every day Jack takes his breakfast on the steps. Stage one was to find out via several different tasty morsels what would temp them. This led to the discovery for a particular liking for honey. So for weeks Jack has been tossing small bits of honey-covered toast for them to enjoy. Each day the scene of temptation plays out with the small creatures desperate to gain the prize, but pretending to ignore events. You could almost hear the conversation going on.
"Oh look, I think he threw something," Monkey squirrel One notices a morsel landing by the foot of the tree then jerks its head away and looks towards the sea
Monkey squirrel Two examines its hand, pauses and looks down at the toast and moves down the bark of the tree a few inches. "Really, I'm not interested…I have no liking for honey."
"Oh, honey...is that what that is? It's sweet but oh so sticky." All the creatures follow the arc of another morsel of toast as it flies through the air. They chatter, and then looking upwards follows a bird that flies past them. Then almost as one they turn back to stare at the treats on the ground.
"I hadn't noticed. Is that toast? I don't care for toast." All the creatures look away except one whose gaze is transfixed on the morsel and so on.
This dance continues until one grabs one of the morsels and stuffs it into its mouth as quickly as possible. As one breaks they all descend to watch in awe at the brave or foolhardy one (I could never quite work out which) enjoys the prize.
Just recently the game has got even more interesting because as time passed along with the faux disinterest they get annoyed if Jack is late. If Jack is late they let out a particular cry to remind him they are ready and waiting. Each day one or two have been getting closer and closer. Yesterday one came right between Jack's legs and took the titbit from his hand.
Then today there was a flash of blue, a squawk, and Jack had one firmly in hand. He brought it in to show Bevan who was in my arms. He was fascinated. After a few moments Jack took it back outside and let it go.
As the creature re-joined its fellows the whole pack, which had become silent at the shocking turn of events, erupted into righteous indignation. They spent rest of the day following us about giving us a right telling off.
The one Jack caught was so annoyed that it sat in the tree opposite from where Jack sits. Every time Jack appears it hisses at him. Jack threw several pieces of fruit in an effort to gain forgiveness. This appeared to work but then once the fruit was eaten it was back to following Jack around. It's outside now, glowering at him, plotting blue monkey squirrel revenge.
Bevan loves being on the floor. He has gone from rolling from his back to his front and now can roll back to his tummy. Well today he demonstrated a brand new skill. He can push himself backwards. In moments he was across the floor, out the door, across the decking and over the steps.
Normally we are so careful; a moment's inattention and your son is out the house, fallen down four steps and become an object of intense interest to the local inhabitants.
Jack and I were both mortified at our carelessness. Bevan was not fazed at all and took it all in his stride. However Jack and I both nearly had a heart attack each, the first one from realising he was missing and the second from finding him at the bottom of the steps. Talk about panic. It means he must not be left on his own even for a second. As an added precaution Jack has made a sort of barrier across the door. While we recovered Bevan, demonstrated just how well he could move himself about and proceeded to push himself into every corner and wall.
Then it happened. He found if he bent his knees he could almost raise himself up. We celebrated by propping him up with cushions then giving him a small piece banana which he preceded to gob, maul, and smash into the floor.
The weather is getting so hot. I think I must have arrived here in winter, it was cooler anyway. The air is hot and muggy so I have got into the habit of wearing very little. Not absolute nakedness but mostly loose beach shorts, or wraps that just hang off the hips. I've forgone underwear altogether. It's just too hot.
This has not been any problem until eight days ago when I woke up with a raging hard on. Losing function was one of the side effects of the chemo as well as the debilitating effects of the disease itself. As I was dying sex was the last thing on my mind. The chances of my getting laid were zero anyway. I mean who wants to bed someone who looks like a walking cadaver?
My body however is fitter, has filled out which means function along with desire has returned with a vengeance. It's like this part of me has a mind of its own and keeps acting out in the most inopportune moments as if making up for lost time. Even the most basic stimulation and bam, embarrassing doesn't even begin to cover this.
And of course today is the day we decided to take Bevan for a swim. The difficulty is neither Jack nor I swim in clothes any more. I mean what the hell is the point?
I'm going to have to swim in shorts, and mentally will my penis not to move at any point including drying myself with the towel. Maybe I can drip dry!
Okay it all went well, my body actually behaved. Decided to be brave and went in as per normal. I think Jack noticed something was up (sorry about the pun) and by way of acknowledgement offered to take Bevan for a nice long walk tomorrow or whenever I felt like I needed a break or an extra-long shower.
Back to the swim. The water is so warm and the pair of us played ups and downs, splashing, and passing Bevan between us. He loved it and is a true water baby. Both Jack and I took turns having a swim. It's wonderful to just lay back and allow yourself to drift. The reef is a good swim out and full of fish. Unfortunately we have no way of taking a look. Jack did a brilliant job in setting all this up but diving gear never crossed his mind.
I realised today that Bevan has a new game. It's called the disappearing game. We have a highchair for him. He's sitting so well now, we put him there for a few moments while we tidy up and need both sets of hands free. We place a number of toys for him to chew to keep him entertained. One is quite large and has a sucker on the bottom. It's got all sorts of things on it that can make noises of which he takes no notice of whatsoever. What Bevan does is throw all his toys one by one on the floor. Each time he looks down to see where it falls. Jack and I, basically whoever is closest, will pick it up and within moments Bevan throws it down again.
I can't recall how many toys I picked up when I happened to turn and saw him give a great big smile then toss the toy. The three of us, not sure which is the biggest kid here, or who had the most fun; Bevan who is developing keen throwing skills or Jack and I for playing along. Jack then pointed out why Bevan didn't like the big toy; it was because he couldn't remove it and throw it on the floor.
Today I am recovering from an overabundance from the delights of the garden. Greed is a terrible mistress. The consequences are painful, smelly, noisy and frequent. I had a bad night so Jack has taken Bevan for a few hours so I can have the place to myself. My dignity cried out for some space but having time to think is not something I want.
In seven weeks our time here will come to an end. I know it sounds a lot, nearly two months, but then reality will come crashing down. Bevan has to be returned. There is no way around this fact. Time lines are fragile and some things cannot be changed.
And I thought dying was hard. Giving up a child you love and adore even with the knowledge that within hours Jack is bringing him back...
Once all I knew about him was represented by a small plastic dinosaur buried in sandpit. I observed him that day at the picnic aching inside for any kind of connection. Now I know everything about him I've held him in my arms, seen his first smile, and met his every need. I've kissed every finger and toe and the tiny birth mark on the small on his back. Had him sleep on my chest, his fingers caught in my chest hair. Bounced him on my knee, fed him bananas he's spread over his entire face. Helped him bring his first tooth into the world and eased his pain. Made him laugh, blown raspberries on his tummy, sang him songs, soothed his tummy upsets and grumbles. Having to give Bevan back is going to be the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I know he goes to good people ( I don't want to think about her) especially Rhys, and that he will be surrounded with love. He will be the centre of their attention but it won't be me.
I have this internal battle and every day it gets a little harder to not let this show. I don't want to dwell on this while Bevan is still here and ruin the time we have left. Every day has to count like it's the last. I wanted to give him a gift but he has given me far more than I could write in this journal. He has lifted my depression, and given me hope for the future. To get to that future I have to say goodbye to this slice of impossibility. An absurdity granted by a man who wrecked my life then has moved time to give me ten months. Confused doesn't begin to cover how I feel.
It's been my goal to walk around the island's entire circumference and today I finally achieved it. It took one hour and seven minutes if I don't count all the stops I took. This island is tear-shaped with a continuous beach. It's hard to believe that this is all a complete fabrication.
The home beach is white sand complete with overhanging palm-type trees. It has a lagoon which slopes away that allows for some great swims or just splashing about. It's like someone took a picture of the most ideal tropical paradise on Earth and replicated it perfectly. I walked, keeping the island to my left, and our usual gaggle of onlookers kept me company. We both had our eyes open for unexpected treasure (an undiscovered Wongai tree.) Soon I was at Jack's bay; I looked up and could just make out the sleep-out amongst the trees. Leaving this behind I set up a good pace until I figured I was halfway around.
I was just beginning to consider a swim when I saw a sliver of sliver cutting shallow channel down towards the sea. The stream disappeared deep into the undergrowth. Pushing my way through I followed and came to a spring bubbling up around several rocks creating a small pool. The light from the sun penetrated in deep shafts. The pattern of light on the water and the coolness of the shade lulled me into enjoying a moment of peace.
I was in no hurry to move on, because the purpose of my walk was to give Jack some time alone with Bevan. In less than a week Bevan will be gone. Our time here as a family will be over. I am handling this as I always have; I put a brave face on and bury my emotions.
I understand that Jack will bring Bevan back, but the relationship we have right now will be over. I will be a stranger, Jack will be Uncle Jack and not Daddy and I won't be Taddy. That special bond that we share will be lost.
Regardless of our terrible past, Jack is a wonderful father. I wouldn't be half the father I am if it wasn't for Jack's support or his advice. It's not just confidence in knowing what he's doing. Jack loves him, and I keep asking myself why Jack chose to give him up when every day I experience just how much he adores him. Why did Jack not tell me about him then go to all this trouble to create this bubble of time? Why did he save my life?
There is so much unresolved and unsaid. But to do so would break the spell of this place completely. I'm in love with the illusion - call it delusion - of us as a family.
Today was something I could give Jack before this all turns to shit. I know it will, we have both held ourselves in check. He knows it and I know it. There is so much to consider. One of the best things about dying is everything comes down to reducing your choices to a singularity. It sharpens the mind to what's truly important. Now that I'm most likely going to live, what now?
