A Ghost of a Chance!
Roger Chance missed his brother who had died suddenly a long time ago and he wanted to be reminded how much he enjoyed his brother’s company and how they enjoyed playing their made up games in the garden.
Roger’s wife Patricia often found him staring into space and would say ‘Roger. You’re dreaming again.’
Roger would have another rummage in the attic, he knew there was an old fashioned film projector and loads of films. His dad used to take films of them while they played and those quieter moments like walking sensibly in the park. Roger remembered dad would take the opportunity of filming them every waking moment. He said it would be something to remind him of what it was like to live with two growing boys and the bedlam they caused even though the film was silent.
‘Tomorrow!’ said Roger. ‘I’m going to clear some of the rubbish we have in the attic.’
Patricia raised one eyebrow saying. ‘Where have I heard that before?’
‘I mean it.’ Roger replied.
‘I can’t see that happening.’ Patricia said.
‘You’ll see!’ Roger managed to say just before Patricia rolled over and shut her eyes and pretended to drop off to sleep. Not wanting to get involved in another episode of Roger’s tantrums where he insists he was the one that caused his brother’s untimely death.
Patricia awoke to the thumping and banging and the scraping of a heavy box being dragged across the attic floor. She looked at the clock. It was half past four. Patricia winced and squinted at the clock again, making sure it was the time she had thought it was. She sighed, her usual heavy sigh and stared at the ceiling.
Roger was triumphant. He had found what he had been searching for, for the past 18 years, the elusive reel to reel projector. It was still intact although rather thick with dust. He searched further into the box and found seven reels of film and the reel that would accept the film when it ran through the machine. He set up the projector and then blowing noisily on the machine and seeing plumes of thick dust rising and swirling around like a ghostly apparition.
Everything was in place and although the screen had been nibbled in five different places and the once all white screen had turned brown with age, plus the wire supports had been bent the wrong way, which he had managed to straighten out and slot them in the correct holes. He threaded the first film with shaking fingers. Eventually he was ready to go. He plugged in the projector and switched on. Nothing happened. Roger swore under his breath ‘Damn it!’ he leaned forward and his sleeve cuff touched something and the projector started up. Roger was elated as he stared at the screen spellbound by the images of himself and his brother playing together. It was a magical moment! He played all seven of the films and he was able to witness his growing up process, but he did notice that in the seventh reel his brother was missing and right at the end of that reel was a run of pictures that portrayed his dad talking to him in a rather serious manner. Roger was able to lip-read from the movement of his dad’s mouth. Roger shouted out ‘I remember.’ ‘I remember now.’ Roger started to cry and a hole appeared in the film that had stopped moving, then the projector stopped completely. Roger could smell the acrid fumes of film that lingered in the air.
‘What do you remember Roger.’ Patricia had climbed the ladder and her head appeared above the trap-door and she was staring at him.=
‘I’ve just seen all seven reels of these films dad took when we, my brother Robert and I were young, playing and growing up. I had nothing to do with Robert’s – well, you know.’
Patricia said ‘I don’t know how you could have, the projector you dropped from your bedroom window and has never work from that day to this and besides there is no electricity to the power points you installed. Remember you only did the lighting and you remember how I kept on at you to finish the job and you never did!’ Patricia took a deep breath and carried on. ‘Roger!’ ‘Are you coming down for your breakfast?’
Patricia disappeared from view.
Roger murmured to himself ‘Must have dreamt it all.’ Roger moved to the projector and his fingers brushed against the lamp and he withdrew them quickly, it was very hot and one of his finger’s began to hurt and he placed it in his mouth and sucked on it.
Roger sat back on his haunches. ‘I did see.’ ‘But how was that possible.’
A disembodied voice said. ‘If you wish hard enough – you will see what you want to see and ‘Son! Your mum, me and your brother are together and we’re okay and we’ll be waiting for you when your time comes.’
