Paradise

Paradise

This is the house that Jack built. Jack, that's me. Used to be a builder in the old days and pretty successful too. That's why me and the missus, that's Debbie to you, decided we'd build a little holiday cabin. The kids were small then. I built it with the help of some mates, and Debbie decorated it. She did a damn good job too.

Mind you the place looks a bit different now from when it was first built. We added bits and pieces over the years. After it was first finished, it became our home away from home every holiday. Oh it was so long ago when we arrived the first time. But we stepped out of our overloaded car and into paradise. You could smell the salt air and hear the motion of the waves as they gently moved onto the beach. Trees all around, birds singing, and no traffic. No surfing either. Just a nice little spot where the kids could swim in safety and we could do a spot of fishing.

Well, to be honest we didn't all fish. Deb really never took to it. She hated baiting the hook and felt bad about bringing in the fish if she was ever lucky enough to get one. Now, our Emily, our youngest was the total opposite. She loved to fish and gave her two brothers a run for their money. We would take our catch home, I'd clean them up and Deb would turn them into a meal fit for a king. Didn't like to catch 'em, but didn't mind turning them into a meal. Even when we relied on that smelly, noisy generator for our electricity, she could still turn out a great meal. Funny, the smell of diesel still reminds me of those days. Yet I hated that cantankerous old thing. Had a bloody mind of its own, it did.

Nah. I'd often take the kids out in the tinny so we could fish, and Deb would be content to go into her little den at the back of the house and work miracles with bits of material. There would be a square of stuff when we left in the morning but by the time we go home she had turned it into the cutest little dress for Emily, or shorts and shirts for Ben and David. And how did she do it? On an old treadle machine her mum had left her. Deb would sit there for hours, her feet and legs working away on the treadle. It sounded like a miniature train, clicking and clacking as it moved over the material.

On the days when the weather wasn't good enough for fishing or swimming, we'd sit around the table and play games. Mostly, I'd let the kids win, but just now and then, Deb and I would have a win. Just to keep the kids from becoming big-headed. They would complain if it rained, but Deb and me, we just loved the sound of the rain on the roof, and the wind moving through the trees. Me mates and their wives would be going overseas to places like Bali and Fiji for their holidays. But me and Deb we just loved our own little piece of paradise.

Huh memories. What got me started on that? Oh yes, it was those blokes who came calling this morning. If that's what you call walking into my house without knocking. Pretty rude they were. Looked at the place as if was a rat hole. Although one bloke did say whoever build the place knew what they were doing. I was just about to throw something at them, but changed me mind when he said that. They did harp on about the place being a bit eerie. Like someone else was there. Silly drongos. It's me, I told them, Jack. The guy who built the place. But they just didn't get it.

See, I've been looking after this place full time for a while now. Happened after I had the heart attack back in the 80s. One minute I was at my other home and the next I'm here. I saw Deb, Ben, David and Emily walking down to the beach. Deb was carrying a box. I thought it was a strange that I wasn't with them. Whatever was in the box was light because when the emptied it, the wind picked it up and sprayed it over the water before it fell and sank.

"Goodbye Jack". "Goodbye dad." And they were crying! All of them. Even the boys who were all grown up were crying. And then it hit me. They were scattering my ashes. And Deb was saying "see ya Jack". And the kids were saying "happy fishing dad". It was confusing at the time, but not any more. So here I am, just waiting and looking after my place.

Remember that Eagle's song? What was it? Oh yeah "The Last Resort". They sang "you call a place paradise, kiss it goodbye" I know what they mean. Ben, me oldest, finally gave into the developers. Those wankers came this morning just to have a sticky at the last place standing before they knock it down to replace it with yet another concrete monstrosity. Breaks your bloody heart it does.

Well, we had some wonderful times here. It's not hard to leave now, 'cos Deb keeps calling for me. I don't want to keep her waiting. It's taken her a while, but now we can be together again.