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GRANDY

K

Kate

Guest
“I REMEMBER”

“What about the beach, Grandy, tell me about the beach”, Jay pleaded with his great-grandfather. The old man and the boy sat in a garden room at the front of the family unit. Artificial lights enlivened the room and accented the ornate ceramic pots brimming with exotic blooms, which stood against one wall. The old man settled more comfortably on the soft cushioned couch, smiling indulgently at the little boy kneeling on the kangaroo skin at his feet. The skin had belonged to his father, a relic of another age.

“Every Christmas holidays, my mother and father took us kids to the caravan park at Lorne”, he began.

“What’s a caravan again, Grandy? And what is Christmas?

Ah lad, Christmas – that’s a story for another day. But a caravan? It’s like a little building on wheels, Jay. You could attach it to a vehicle that people used to drive and take it on holidays. A mate of my grandfather’s, Pop Kaisler, thought up the idea of a caravan in the 1920’s. My grandfather was only a kid and used to hang around Pop’s workshop. I still have a photograph of them together somewhere about. We had such fun on the beach.

“Did you build sandcastles, Grandy, and sail boats?”

“We did, Jay, castles just like we build in your little sandpit. My father had a motor boat and sometimes we’d go fishing and cook our catch right there on the beach.”

“What does fish taste like, Grandy? Is it like jelly?

“No, not quite like jelly, Jay”, the old man laughed. “It’s soft though and tastes very good.”

The old man took a large old book for the shelves beside him and opened it to Jay’s favourite pages – the beach.

“My sister Fiona and I surfed all day. We wore wetsuits and sunscreen and were quite safe because the sun wasn’t lethal like it is today. We could stay outside for hours without any problem. Then in the late afternoons we set up our wickets on the beach and played cricket until it got too dark to see the ball. Fiona was the best bowler in our street and I wasn’t too bad, if I say so myself. We cooked our meals and slept in the caravan. I wish I could take you to a beach like that Jay, but they’re all gone, all gone.”

The old man’s mind turned to the early 2000’s when the high tides bought on by global warming caused havoc on the beaches around the country. The sea gradually became a writhing stinking mass of weed, and succumbed to the polluted lifestyle of the urban dwellers and the landholders’ reckless use of pesticides to increase crop yields. Despite government regulations, industry continued to belch poisonous gases into the atmosphere, finally choking the sky and hiding the sun. The sun’s rays still seeped through, her touch increasingly deadly until finally it became impossible to withstand her heat without heavy protective suits or vehicles. There was no point in dreaming of surfing the waves today as he had done when he was a teenager. Now, in 2090 the world was a very different place. Sure, people lived to well over 100, as he had, medical science saw to that. He’d soon be celebrating – if you could call it that – his 130th birthday. The child at his feet made it all worthwhile though. He loved Jay to distraction.

Jay picked up the old book. It was called “Australia of Yesteryear.” He loved looking at the pictures of the golden beaches, the people frolicking in brief swimming suits and the clear blue sea and sky. The motor vehicles also fascinated the child, particularly the sports cars, as he had only travelled in the heavy trucks that protected people from the sun’s radiation and transported them from point A to point B, mostly from their family units to a pleasure dome for recreational breaks. The old man leaned back and closed his eyes, leaving the boy absorbed in the book.

The whole family had their last recreational break at the latest pleasure dome in their district. They were picked up at the door by protected transit vehicle (PTV) and were taken to a small igloo, air-conditioned and artificially lit, the windows a video screen of views of scenery long gone. The igloo was one of many, joined to the main dome by covered walkways like the spreading tentacles of a giant extinct octopus. Inside the dome entertainment was on offer to excite and amuse the whole family. Ski slopes, cliffs to climb, clear blue rock pools, mini rainforests complete with clones of long extinct wildlife to photograph and study and cool green pseudo grass to sit on and picnic under replicas of eucalypts and spreading acacias. There was even an animal vaguely reminiscent of a kangaroo, which the old man could remember roaming in great numbers throughout his grandfather’s grazing land. In fact, the numbers were so great that the animals had to be culled each year. If only they could have looked into the future, they would have wept. But Jay was as excited by the sight of a kangaroo clone with a joey in her pouch as he himself had been on first seeing the gigantic skeleton of a dinosaur in the city museum on a school trip so many years ago.

So life goes on, or at least it goes on for a dominant species such as man, the old man thought. Now Jay plays outdoors in the dark, starless nights, his playground lit by artificial lamps. He loved to watch Jay and his mates hover in mid air on their air skates, flipping and twisting, squealing with excitement just as he had done at the skateboard park on hot sunny afternoons. Some pleasures of life are still simple, but the old man’s eyes watered as he mused on what mankind had lost along the way through their arrogance, their ignorance, their stupidity.
 
Not a cheery tale but, as always, brilliantly written by Kate. A great use of imagery that is, sadly, all too likely to become reality.
 
As Paul says, a timely reminder to us all and well told
Reminds me of Ray Bradbury
 
A timely reminder Kate, beautifully written. :)

On the radio today there were two subjects discusssed, one was would you like to live to be a hundred, the other on how we can peruade people to become 'Greener'.............
 
Ta muchly folks, you are too kind. Actually I wrote it quite a while before tsunamis and only re-read it the other day. :)
 
Kate :-* Your lovely Schoolteacher daughter Emma would grade your story above as 4 F,s

Fabulous + Farsighted + Foreboding + FairDinkum :coolsmiley:

I would grade it 1 Star ,,,,,,,,,,,,,, because You are :) John
 
Sorry K8 - I missed this one too! :(

I will read it Monday morning cofee time...............and get back to ya
 
Very good K8

Reminded me a little of a cross between war of the world and bicentenial man.....like previous posters have said.........sad that it may not be far from the truth :(
 
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