Yes, and I think that if we really appreciated just how fragile it was, then we would spend less time being bad and more time being good to one another. One minute you're here, and the next minute you are...well...nowhere. It's over. Nothing. El Blotto.
It just so happens that now and again we are given a wake-up call when something truly awful happens. Jolted back into cold reality. We do not like it. Death is bad news. We treat it as if it doesn't exist. And one day, bang! We are face to face with it. And we flounder breathlessly, helplessly, like live fish cast onto a river bank.
And it can happen any time, and as human beings we understandably shy away from this fact, because constant reminders of it would drive us insane.
So prepare yourselves for one such startling, life changing encounter with death that I am now going to tell you about. But don't worry, I'll be gentle with you. I promise.
Some years ago I worked at an exclusive girls' boarding school. It was run by a good and honest God-fearing staff of women teachers and house mistresses. Every summer there were many events, trips and outings, functions and fetes. Extra hands were needed to supervise these enjoyable occasions, so university students from overseas were often invited over. They were given board and lodging and enough money to go and see the tourist attractions, so everyone was happy. We all liked them, and meeting anyone from foreign lands is always stimulating.
One summer we invited over a half dozen of these girl students, in their late teens. They came from various parts of the USA and Canada. Lovely girls, full of the joys of life and living it to the full, as is right and proper. They worked hard, assisting staff with the summer events and looking after our boarders. In the evening they would return to their lodgings a mile away, a big, multi-bedroomed house owned by the school, and, rather unimaginatively called The Lodge.
One weekend these girls from abroad planned a little private event of their own, a small party at the lodge. A bit of music. Some dancing. Nothing that would disturb the neighbours. They were responsible, grown-up young ladies who had been working hard and they deserved time to chill out.
So after work that evening, to save time, they asked if I could drop them to their lodgings in the school bus. A short journey, but very enjoyable. They were looking forward to the little party, confiding to me that they had met a couple of lads in town whom they had invited as a means of livening up the proceedings. It seemed reasonable. They lived with each other day and night and needed a couple of fresh faces around.
As we drove along, I remember one of the girls, Jeanette, seeing a banner for a local amateur production of Oklahoma, and she began singing "O-o-o-o-aklahoma, where the wind comes sweepin' down the plains!" Another girl, Ruby, was worried that they might not have enough bottles of white wine. A lot of laughter and giggles, asking if I would join them, and getting a regretful 'no thanks' as I didn't think it would be appropriate.
Exotic little songbirds, brimming over with excitement and loving life, eyes sparkling, rosy cheeked and smiling. I was captivated, my spirits lifting after a long and tiring day, even in that short mile to The Lodge.
When we were there, they got off the school bus just as Matt and David arrived, the two local lads they'd invited.
Now these two guys----well, they seemed kind of okay, but I wasn't too sure. You didn't notice anything if you just glanced at them. But if your glance the lingered it was impossible to deny something vaguely furtive and worrying taking place behind their eyes. As if they were going over some secret agenda. I said "hi", and then looked away, frowning. The girls didn't notice and thanked me amid peals of laughter, now that the party could get started.
I drove away, still on a high after sharing a mile in the school bus with a group of girls who had made me happy to be alive. But still, I remember a vague unease deep down in my heart. Matt and David. Surely the girls could handle just two guys. They outnumbered them at least two to one!
I parked the school bus and went straight to bed.
It was a warm night, and I had trouble getting to sleep. Besides, I was still uneasy. Then, around 6am all hell broke loose.
A woman was screaming outside. Always on call for any emergency, I was into my clothes and out the door in under 2 minutes.
Miss Prendergast, one of our cooks, had stumbled out of her car down the driveway. She was on the ground, seemingly unaware of the gravel digging painfully into her hands and knees, her face a terrified mask of anguish.
I reached her just as the headmistress appeared.
'They're dead,' gasped Miss Prendergast. 'Lying out the front of the lodge.....call the police...please...help!'
She was hysterical, collapsing in a heap and sobbing in huge convulsions. I looked at the headmistress. We both knew we wouldn't get any sense out of Miss Prendergast. With shaking fingers the headmistress pulled her cell-phone from her dressing gown pocket and called the police.
I stumbled to the grass and sat down heavily, my mind numb with grief. What had happened? Those poor girls. I should have stayed with them, gone to that party. I knew those two guys hadn't looked right and I had ignored my gut feelings and done nothing. It was something I was going to have to live with for the rest of my life.
'John.... John....'
The headmistress seemed to be calling me from a long distance away. I looked up in a daze. I had no idea how much time had come by. The headmistress was staring at me. She knew I'd dropped the girls off the previous evening, and now she wanted some answers.
House staff were pouring out into the early morning light. Pale oval faces were peering through the bedroom windows. I struggled to my feet just as two police cars, blue lights flashing, pulled up. Two grim faced officers got out. One of them nodded.
'We got 'em,' he said. I just stood frozen while the headmistress talked in low tones to the two policemen as the staff crowded around to listen.
The minutes ticked by. I still couldn't move. It was all my fault. I should never have left them. Now, what was going on? The staff were looking....not shocked any more. But angry. Miss Prendergast was still curled up in a tightly heaving ball on the driveway. Who were they angry with? Me? I had to know. I walked towards them. A couple of faces turned towards me---and then swung away.
The headmistress looked around. 'Ah... John. There you are....feeling better?'
Then she began talking to me as the officers studied my tense demeanour with curiosity. Gradually my stiff limbs relaxed---and I, too, began to look angry.
Well, I'm glad to say Miss Prendergast had got it wrong, but it wasn't her fault. Driving past the lodge that morning, she had seen two sprawled and lifeless bodies, one draped over a handrail and another lying headfirst down some steps. Mark and David, the local lads whom I hadn't liked the look of the night before. After drinking all the white wine they had started misbehaving so much, coming on to the girls and being generally obnoxious, that in the end they had been ejected from The Lodge by their hosts. So drunk that they couldn't make it anywhere, they had simply passed out outside.
Sadly those really nice girls whom I had come to like were packed off home in disgrace. Too much fuss had been created. It wasn't good for the image of the school. "Dead" people in the driveway of school property---whatever next!
Oh, the newspapers didn't get hold of it. Everything was hushed up. Many of the parents of the boarders were very important people.
It might have turned into something of a joke in the end---but for the fact that death had been brought into the picture. No one had been prepared for that. It couldn't be forgiven. Somebody had to pay.
I drove the girls to the airport in the school bus the next day for their journey home. It was a far cry from the jolly time we had all had on the drive to the party.
Death. No one likes it. Go away, death. You're not welcome.
Well, I did promise I'd be gentle with you, didn't I......
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