Mistakes and Regrets

thethemeis: Let Down

theauthoris: LiamD

   So there’s this guy I used to know. Let’s say his name was John. That wasn’t his real name, but for the purposes of this story we’ll roll with it.

   John and I had known each other for a long time, definitely since our teens, possibly even longer than that. At school we were pretty much inseparable, we later lived together at uni and even after that, when I would hear from everyone we used to hang out with less and less often, we were constantly in touch. You might say he was the closest friend I’ve ever had. Literally, I mean; he was far from the best. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think he was a bad friend; his heart was mostly in the right place. But if there’s one key feature of his personality that I can remember (and I struggle to remember a great deal about him these days), it’s this: you could always rely on him to let you down.

   I don’t just mean the trivial things, like the countless times he’d get all excited about meeting up with the old gang and either pull out at the last minute with a poor excuse (‘My parents have gone out and I need to look after the cats.’ was a particularly memorable one) or fail to turn up without any warning at all. It was the big things too, he’d miss the special occasions. The many birthdays, weddings, once even a funeral. For what reason? Nothing more apparent than he couldn’t be bothered to crawl out of bed. I remember often speculating that he had problems at home, and maybe he did, but I also found myself wondering what possible troubles could justify his total lack of commitment to those of us he called friends.

   Please don’t misunderstand, I’m not pointing out John’s character flaws just for the sake of it, and I wouldn’t have stayed friends with him for all those years if he wasn’t fun to be around when I did see him. His chronic unreliability, though, is a large part of what this story is all about.

   I didn't see John for a good four years after our graduation in July 2008 (While it was true we were always in touch, we never actually met up in person). Doing so would have been largely impractical for either of us; following the bachelors degree, I stayed in Leeds to pursue a masters and later career in video game audio, while John journeyed the two hundred and forty odd miles back home to London and continued his specialised studies into differential geometry... Whatever the hell that is. 

   My own endeavours were reasonably successful. I managed to graduate from my masters with merit and six months after handing in my final project materials, I had landed myself a job in the games industry at Rockstar Leeds, if only in 'Quality Assurance' (the technical term for games testing). What followed were five years of drifting from development studio (Team 17) to development studio (Activision Leeds), as I would inevitably get laid off at the end of each product cycle. This isn't about me though; I won't go into too much detail. Suffice to say that a couple of those four years I spent in my early career appear to have been a complete waste of time, as many things tend to seem with the benefit of hindsight.

   Finally, in the early spring of 2012, I got my first job in game audio back home in London at Mind Candy. To celebrate, aside from moving all of my things back to my parents' house as quickly as I could, I organised a trip to the pub with friends I could no longer truthfully call close, but who were dear to me all the same. We had a lot of fun that night. I probably drank too much, as I often do on occasions of celebration, but the were no arguments and it was such a joy to once again be in the company of the kind-hearted and good-natured individuals I had grown up with. Of course, true to form and with his reputation somewhat preceding him, John didn't turn up. 

*

   The next day, after a long lie in and a cheeky Hair of the Dog, I made the considerable effort of the hour long bus journey to the bar that John had been working for part-time. By a sheer fluke, I arrived at the Rambler's Rest just as he was taking his mid-afternoon break. I bought him a drink, maybe to show that there were no hard feelings, though I doubt he saw any significance in the gesture. After we'd had a brief catch-up, talk turned to the previous night.

   'I'm sorry about last night, I really wanted to see everyone.' He stopped to sip his Carlsberg and I kept silent, wondering if there was an excuse to come. There was: 'I've been working hard on the thesis for my PhD. More recently I've found myself losing a lot of time because of it,' he explained. The PhD had been mentioned in passing during our catch-up. At the time, I couldn't even understand the title, let alone the subject matter.

   'Don't worry about it,' I told him. 'I know how time-consuming higher education can be, I struggled enough on the undergrad!' He chuckled briefly at this, a short laugh that sounded strangely deflated, then his face straightened. 

   'I do worry about it Liam, seriously... I have done for a long time.' I noticed he would no longer look me in the eye. I found his undisguised shame unnerving.

   'It was only a drink down the pub, mate. What does it matter if y-'

   'A drink down the pub, five birthdays, two weddings and a fucking funeral, of course it fucking matters!' He wasn't quite shouting, but a couple of people on the table next to us heard this outburst. They strategically walked over to the bar for another drink.

   'I know what you all think of me,' he continued, his usually dull brown eyes shining with tears. 'I don't blame you either, I'm an unreliable prick.'

   I had never seen him this upset. In fact, had you asked me the week before I would have told you he was entirely incapable of extreme emotions (and I only would have been half joking). I had no idea how badly this had been eating away at him. I was pretty speechless.

   'But I'm trying to change that, I will change it. After to-'

   'John, it's about that time again mate,' the barman called over. John wiped his face and nodded to him.

   'Sorry, I need to go back to work,' he explained. Something of a lifesaver from my point of view; this whole affair had been getting pretty awkward.

   'Look, before I go, we're having a barbecue on Saturday. The weather's supposed to be good and it's Mum's 50th next week. If you're really planning on turning over a new leaf, why don't you pop in and say 'hello'? I'll even do you a burger.' We knew each others parents fairly well, I reckoned Mum would've been happy to see John after such a long time.

   He grinned, eyes glinting. 'That would be perfect!' he exclaimed. 'My work will be finished by then, I'll be there!'

   'Ok, mate, but if you can't make it, it won't be a prob-'

   'Did you not hear what I said? My work will be done! I won't let you down!' He left me on that note to get back to his duties. I finished my drink pensively before saying my goodbyes and catching the bus back home.

*

   The week passed pretty quickly. After recovering from my pretty dire hangover, which seemed to have been exacerbated by the alcoholic top up at the Sailor's, I spent much of it indoors. Since most people I knew were in full-time work, I didn't have much options with my week between jobs other than sitting around playing my PS3 and watching the odd film. Not that I was complaining.

   In fact, by the time the barbecue came around on Saturday afternoon, I had forgotten all about inviting John over. At three o'clock, the food was ready for serving. Just as I had grabbed a burger and bap for myself, the doorbell rang. I remembered the guest I was expecting, though never really thought would turn up. From the garden I walked through the kitchen and hall, before opening the front door. The voice that accompanied the stranger's face at the door was oddly familiar.

   'I told you... I told you... I finished, I won't be a let down anymore!' At first I didn't comprehend what was happening.

   'Sorry mate, I think you've got the wrong house...' I began.

   'Liam... I told you, Liam... I said I'd be here. I didn't let you down!' Slowly I began to connect the dots. The defined jaw, the dull brown eyes, the prominent ears. But this man was forty years older than John, at least. This had to be some sort of bad joke. As I was trying to make sense of the situation, the grey haired, weather beaten stranger in front of me shuddered violently. He began coughing harshly, hacking up blood over the porch.

   'I... I didn't let... you down Liam... Did I?' he asked, between fits of choking.

   'No, John you didn't, you...' His whole body convulsed madly, stilled, then spasmed again for a further few seconds. This time when he stilled, he spoke no more. Bewildered, I felt for a pulse. There was nothing, this man was dead.

*

   Despite his ravings and our final exchange, it took me a long time to accept that the stranger was in fact John. After calling for the ambulance, I rang all of the phone numbers associated with him in my phone contacts, all of which went to answer phone or didn't connect at all. Six months on and I've still had no luck. Recently I've found more reason to worry.

   You may recall that I mentioned not having much memory of him these days. The thing is, up until a few months ago, I could have described John to the smallest detail. The clothes he wore, his hair style, his facial hair (or lack thereof). But now it's all a haze. You'll also remember that John wasn't his real name and that is part of this too; last week I forgot his name. Next week, who knows what else I won't remember. That's why I'm writing this all down, and hoping that I believe it all when I later come to read it, not just think it a mysterious tale.

   If I do forget it all, if I cast this writing aside, branding it dissatisfactory fiction, god knows what repercussions that could have. Which brings me to my point. I appeal to you, kind reader. If any part of this mad tale makes sense to you, I implore you to help me. Without you, I could leave one of the greatest mysteries, and potentially a great danger to mankind, undiscovered forever.

Liam Donnellan - 27th July 2012