Continuing The Lockwood Echo’s series ‘Then There Was That Time…….’
A reflection on the mishaps, mayhem and ‘well who’d have thought its’ that have peppered my life.
Although I by no means have the monopoly on ‘Ummm, that was odd’, it is true to say the jinxed path I stumble down has navigated me into situations that you couldn’t make up. For example…….
THEN THERE WAS THAT TIME I WOKE UP WITH A SECOND DEGREE BURN
An ordinary evening. And as far as I was aware, an ordinary night. I sleep fitfully, I have more than my fair share of peculiar dreams. But I do think the following would have left some trace in my memory had some external force not prevented it.
I woke up to find a second degree burn on my wrist.
A couple of inches across. Deep. Nasty and blistered. Unexpected after a night’s sleep. If you could just take your kinky heads out of the gutter for a second, you may find yourself concerned at how it is possible I gained a deep burn in the Land Of Nod with no knowledge of it happening. I ruled out any kind of delayed reaction, alcohol, I’ve never walked in my sleep. My partner could shed no light on the mystery. Our cat would’ve alerted us to a Mary. (A Mary is a ghost. All ghosts are called Mary. In the same way that all seagulls are called Graham and why I’m rather enthusiastically on board and anticipating the foundation of The Church Of The Latter Day Steves. Looking at you Rhubarb Swank).
There was no other plausible cause.
There was only one explanation;
When you see stories about Alien Abduction, where some poor soul is recounting their terrifying tale of how they were tortured and experimented on and dropped in a corn field miles from home. That’s not Abduction. If those Aliens brought you back, that’s Rejection. Alien Rejection is what you’ve experienced. And so it was for me. Scarred me for life, rejected me and didn’t even have the decency to leave some intergalactic salve to soothe my bubbling skin.
It’s a scar I bear to this day.
For the sceptics out there who don’t believe in Alien Life, let alone their cruel Abductions and harsher Rejections, let me recount a childhood tale;
One holiday back in the ’70s, I was travelling by car with my parents. We noticed a hitch-hiking couple. They had a lovely hippie vibe about them and the lady was on crutches, so we offered them a lift. I can’t remember if there was any chat in the car, but after a few miles they asked to be dropped off, thanked us for our kindness and we carried on with our journey. After some time of quiet thought, one of my parents commented on the drop-off location. It was in the middle of nowhere. Why? Where were they going? On crutches. WHO WERE THEY? The penny then dropped that we’d picked them up IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE!
There was only one explanation.
Over the years I’ve often thought about that day and it’s become obvious they must’ve been Aliens awaiting their Mothership. But not being use to our planet, its magnetic field or intricate criss-cross of English ‘A’ roads, they’d become disorientated and fucked up the rendezvous, necessitating a re-calculation of co-ordinates, a believable disguise and a crash course in Afghan waistcoats. Of course my heart went out to the two poor half-naked hippies left bewildered in some countryside ditch, having been disrobed by creatures from Outer Space. Hard to imagine how that went down. Let’s hope they had partaken of some acid and thought the whole thing a crazy drug-induced trip.
You don’t just wake up with a second degree burn. When weird shit happens, you can bet some weird shit caused it. They walk amongst us. They’re here. They’re touching you. That unexplained bruise? Those people at the bar you’ve never seen before that smell like potatoes? That weed in the garden that you just can’t seem to kill?
They see you.
They hear you.
And they’re ready to reject you.
This particular Graham we met whilst on a trip to celebrate our 10th Anniversary in 2014.
He came for breakfast every morning.