Beep.Beep.Beep

Robert awoke. He lay in bed with his face submerged in the pillow.

Awake. He thought.

As he lay there he adjusted himself to this now conscious state.

What time was it? 6? 7? No later than 7 surely. No, the house seemed quite dead. His wife, Jane, lay next to him gently inhaling and exhaling. Apart from that the house was quiet.

If it was 7 why was he so awake? It was the weekend and he had no set time to get up and yet here he was as if he’d been awake for hours. He even felt refreshed.

Something must have woken him.

Then he remembered.

A steady succession of three beeps had woken him. He knew it hadn’t been his alarm as it was a joyful Friday night ritual that meant he turned the alarm off before going to bed. Some nights he even unplugged it to make sure he had a decent lie in.

Where had the beeps come from then?

He moved his eyes slowly around in their sockets, scanning the room for anything that may have made the sound.

He could find nothing. So decided to close his eyes.

As soon as he did there they were again.

Beep.Beep.Beep.

He opened his eyes quickly and again scanned the room.

Nothing.

As a test he closed his eyes again.

The beeps re-appeared.

Beep.Beep.Beep.

This time however he kept his eyes shut.

The Beeps continued.

After the tenth beep his body started to go cold. He had a sense of sudden dread taking over his mind. It was as if he was being lowered into icy water. He could almost count down the temperature.

37º

36º

35º

His toes were starting to hurt, as were his fingers.

The dread increased.

34º

33º

32º

The beeps were slowing as well. It was now 3 seconds between each one.

Beep...Beep...Beep.

He could take it no more. His head was fire and his body was as cold as ice.

He forced his eyes open.

It stopped.

Silence resumed.

The heat in his brain had gone and the feeling returned to his body.

It’s stupid. He thought. I must be coming down with something.

He cleared his throat with a slight cough. There was no need. It was purely for effect. Maybe his wife would wake up.

But nothing stirred on the other side of the bed.

He was still for sometime.

He coughed again. This time with greater effort attached.

Still no movement.

Maybe she wasn’t there. Perhaps she’d left the bed earlier.

He suddenly felt very alone.

He thought he’d better move. He must have been lying here for half an hour and wanted to get to the bottom of this.

He first tried to move his legs.

Nothing.

No movement in his legs.

He then tried to move his fingers but nothing moved.

He tried to move his head up and out of the pillow, but still nothing.

Panic took over his mind and he started to sweat.

He visualized leaping out of bed and running from the room. Down the stairs and being greeted by his loving wife and children.

He was frozen stiff.

He was scared. For the first time in his adult life he was truly, deeply scared.

He became very conscious of every move he could make. He chest was heaving slightly under the strain and he could feel the hot breath on his face as it bounced off the pillow.

Blinking. He could still blink. He could also cough too. Maybe he could speak.

He forced himself to concentrate and he pushed all the air from his lungs up through his throat and out his mouth.

He managed a plaintive cry.

He relaxed and tried again. This time it was even fainter than before.

Whats the point. I’m only getting myself wound up. If I wait here long enough someone is bound to come in.

The children always came in at some point. Normally Christopher would be first in with his cars and challenge him at a race across the duvet. Sound effects played a big part and generally the cars would suddenly sprout weapons or wings. Which ever arrived first to Christopher’s mind.

Lucy was older and more sensible. She would wait patiently downstairs with Jane, sometimes baking or just sitting quietly with a book. The Sunday afternoon walk was her favorite time of the weekend.

The house however was silent still. No sound of cooking and no rocket powered cars in sight.

Something was wrong. Very wrong and he must work it out.

Robert decided to go backwards and try and remember what had happened the day before.

Yesterday he had been woken by his alarm at the normal time of 7. Jane had already left by then as she was needed at the hospital earlier on a Friday. He couldn’t remember feeling ill and so past on recounting the other morning routines.

Apart from breakfast. Maybe something different happened at breakfast. He remembered going into both the children’s rooms just before getting the cereal and bowls out.

Christopher was always the hardest to get ready for school. He would whine and moan every morning about getting ready. But once he was downstairs and tucking into his high sugar cereal he seemed to brighten.

Lucy would almost always be up and dressed before he even got to her room. She didn’t have an alarm clock in her room and Robert and Jane had often joked about her clairvoyant traits.

Nothing new there. Robert thought to himself and moved on to the rest of the day.

Next he had got all their lunches from the fridge. Jane always made them each their lunches before going to bed the night before. No matter how busy she was, every morning when Robert opened the fridge there would be three Tupperware boxes sealed and ready for the day.

Getting them in the car was fun as Christopher would want to play with the door. Luckily child locks were always firmly on, much to the annoyance of any adult passenger they ever needed to take places.

He’d driven them to school and dropped them off at the school gate with a kiss on both cheeks.

Then he had headed off to work and parked near the site and had put on his hard hat and entered through the huge wooden boards that protected the public from the building going on.

It was the first time he had been a project manager, building a new lavish library for the city, and was enjoying all the added pressures that came with it. It had been a really bright sunny day as he walked across the site to his cabin. The architect had been on site that day to go over some more thoughts on the construction.

He was pleased with what had been happening at the meeting stages as many council members hadn’t bothered to turn up and he and the architect had been able to work in peace. Recently, however, the council members were getting complaints that the building was taking too long to complete and so new plans had to be drawn to minimise the time that the project would take. Usually all of this would have been done at the consultation stage.

It had been a rough few weeks but nothing different had happen yesterday. He had worked until 5:30 then called it a day and driven home.

Nothing. It must be something else.

He mulled over the day again.

Wake.School.Work.Home

Again nothing came to mind.

Wake...School...Work...Home.

Something still didn’t sit right with him.

Wake.

He could remember the sound of the alarm waking him up. The sudden rush of blood to his legs as he swung them over the side and stood up. Even the twinge he got when brushing his teeth. A cavity was forming.

School.

He thought in more detail. Maybe there was something in the drive that was out of place. Something odd had happened and he could remember it clearly. He’d had to brake quite hard just before the school as an old woman, probably some kid’s grand parent, had stepped out unexpectantly. She was fine and had given him a grumpy expression. Her wrinkled face showing no grace for all its years. Christopher had been quite upset by the incident and he’d mentioned it to the teacher at the gate when he dropped them off. His sad little face as he walked away and got in the car to drive the short mile and a half to work.

Work.

The sun so bright in the sky. The hard uneven ground beneath his boots as he marched around the site. He thought hard and could see the plans in his head. The amass of black lines and scribbles that would soon become a library. A place where the whole area could come a learn. He could see the crane lifting the steel supports high above them and the architect's face looking at him with a worried expression.

Nothing new. Nothing different.

Home.

Home...

He’d found it. The big problem in his current situation.

He couldn’t remember driving home.

Robert knew that he should. The one part of the day that he was completely alone was the drive to and from work. A time were he could sing at the top of his lungs to his favorite CD or vocalize his opinions about what ever phone in show was on the radio.

Friday night’s drive drew a blank in his mind. No music or debate entered it.

He drifted back to his work. He floated over the building with its steel Jenga structures and its tall cranes lined up like matchsticks. He could see where he was standing.

This had been his world since he was a little boy. Construction had always been his life. He had left school at 15 and had become a laborer, picking up jobs around the city and nearby towns. He never minded what it was. Just to be involved was all he wanted as when he walked around the city now he was surrounded by memories and friendships. The city was his photograph album. His life.

Robert had skipped from job to job until this one day where something had prevented him from getting home.

Friday.

Again the architects face filled his mind. Why was this so important? Why was it that he had clung to this image? It must have meaning.

He tried to regain his surroundings. His room. His bed. This damned pillow in his face. Everything now was hazy. He must have been lying here for most of the morning. The house was still silent. No children. No wife.

That face was back. He remembered now how much he had studied it, when standing there on the site. How old he looked. He probably wasn’t more than 10 years older than Robert, but he had the appearance of a man much older.

How cruel everything is. Robert thought as the architects face beamed again. When did it happen? 30 or 40? It must have happened between those two. He had never been a melancholy man but now lying here with his actions stripped he could think of little else. Years of worrying he had suppressed now came to the surface. He was blessed with bright blue eyes and fair hair, neither of which had dulled as he aged. He had met and married his childhood sweetheart and within two years had a beautiful baby girl.

Lucy.

As Robert thought of her now a lump grew in his throat. His eyes began to sting and he felt his face contort under the strain of held emotions. He couldn’t keep it in any longer. He cried. He cried so much the pillow felt like a wet rag within seconds as pools of salty tears collected around his chin and ears. He made hardly a sound as he cried, he never had even as a child. He felt stupid letting all this get to him. He felt pathetic being unable to stop and unable to wipe the tears away.

The minutes rolled by...

Then all of a sudden he was back there. Standing on the site talking with the architect.

“...I mean that’s all well and good but they have to understand that it is not normal to work like this” the old man said

“I know and believe me I have told them again and again but they just do not listen...” It was Robert’s voice but he felt no movement in his mouth. The voice seemed to come behind him. It was loud in his ear as the voice continued...

“...all they see is targets and unhappy voters. It never normally stops them but for some reason this time it struck a chord. That’s why we have had to speed up progress on the project. That’s also why we have all these cranes here today. The main structure has to be finished by the end of next week. That means longer hours for me and more hassle...”

The words were not completely alien to Robert, but hearing them now as if emitting from a speaker he felt slightly embarrassed by what he sounded like. He reminded him of all those projects managers he’d met in the past. Saying nothing important apart from explaining procedure. He felt regret. The architects face had changed from an old man to an ancient tree. The architect knew all about procedure and yet here was Robert patronising him.

“...But such is life...” Robert hated this phrase, in fact he hated all phrases of this nature. There is was though. His voice sounding it off, summing up all of life’s problems in one handy bite sized nugget.

“...But such is life...”

Robert glanced away from the architect and down to his watch.

12:42PM. The blinking LED digits read.

Then he saw it and it all made sense.

The lunch box. A seemingly passive object contained the answers he sort.

“...Well I’m heading across for lunch now in my cabin. I’m late already and I fear that sky might turn to rain. You don’t mind if I let you escort yourself out today?”

“No, that’s fine. I’m sorry about all this and I’ll see you next week...” The man started to move away across the site when he turned back.

“Have a good weekend Robert. You’ll need it.” And with that sentiment he was gone. Out of Robert’s life for ever.

Robert, half smiling, then made the journey to his cabin on the other side of the site.

The sun was still shining brightly at the moment and he shielded his eyes by fixing them on the ground. He watched his shadow grow and shrink as he walked. His black boots coming in and out of view as they thumped forward.

No. Robert thought to himself. It was a painful cry in his brain but he could do nothing now. This was a movie and the final reel was being played. For now lying here in his bed he could witness these events for the second time. He now saw something he’d missed first.

As Robert walked the sun began blinking. Light followed dark in quick succession. Maybe it had been breaks in the cloud he had thought on that Friday. Here now he realized how wrong he had been.

The loud click of chains had not registered with him then but now their sound rang in his head like a bell. The gentle rush of air had merely ruffled the hairs on the back of his neck that day, but now made his whole body cold. A roaring sound filled his mind and he was plunged into the dark.

Silence...

Then he could hear something…

...Thump.Thump.Thump...

His heart was leaping about in his chest like an animal trying to free itself from a cage.

Thump.Thump.Thump

The burning sensation rushed over him and his brain ignited again.

Thump.Thump.Thump.

The tips of his fingers began to lose all feeling but this time it was not a shock. He knew what was coming.

The sun had not been affected by the clouds as he walked across the site for one last time. The strange blinking had been instead created by the snaking necks of the cranes that dotted the site.

If that old woman hadn’t have stepped out in the road then he would have got to work earlier and therefore gone for lunch earlier. Maybe if the time hadn’t been decreased on the project the cranes wouldn’t have been working longer. The stress and strain had snapped the chains that held a brace. A brace that was now resting on Robert.

He was peaceful now. In the dark. His body was numb and heat in his head had decreased to a dull glow. He could now just lie here and wait. Maybe they would move him and try and save what was left of Robert. He would feel nothing he thought. But he could hear that sound again.

Beep...Beep...Beep...

A sound that had for so long baffled him now was perfectly in sync with him.

Thump...Thump...Thump...

His heart beated slower now and his life was disappearing.

Beep.....Beep.....Beep.....

Thump.......Thump.......Thump.......

Strange as it was, one phrase came to haunt him. Creeping in like an old friend to wish him well. It held his hand and whispered to him.

“...But such is life...”

Beep..............Beep..............Beep..............

“...But such is life...”