The Worlds of Gail
- Alone in the World
The first time I saw Gail was at the orphanage: we were both in the unhappy position of having been orphaned at a particularly young age, and had ended up here in this big, foreboding house that once was a stately home, but now was used as a house-cum-school for around a hundred young kids like me and her, between the ages of four and ten. I was nine, I suppose she was a little younger.
I was walking along outside when I heard some girls laughing behind me. But they weren’t giggling at me, instead they were pointing at another girl walking at right angles to us: I heard one of them call out in a mischievous stage whisper,
’look… It’s G-G-G-Gail.’
I’d not seen her before; I imagined she was fairly new here. She was a skinny girl, somewhat shorter than me, with just the first suggestions of adult femininity about her. She wore the usual rather drab knee-length dress and her short blonde hair in a cute bob. And, as you may have guessed, she wore glasses. Small metal-framed ones, with lenses about half an inch thick sticking out everywhere, certainly past her metal frames. She turned her head glared at us briefly. It was then I noticed that she wore an opaque white eye patch over her left lens, held in place by her frames. That instantly caught my attention: her glare was certainly one-eyed! Her usable eye flung daggers at the gaggle of girls teasing her, then she turned away, ignoring both them and me.
- Princess
The next day I sat in one of the school rooms, and in walked Gail. There was no other space in the classroom, so she was obliged to sit next to me, sharing my table: she said nothing. I tried to lose myself in her thick lensed gaze, but it wasn’t so easy being as she kept looking out of the window and squinting a little: not the sort of full-blooded squint I was to see later, but as if her lens was almost but not quite right for her, as if the minus 10 (or so I estimated) of correction wasn’t enough. That didn’t surprise me, since this place could and did supply glasses for those in its care, but much less often than that recommended in the outside world.
The teacher gave us the task of writing a story: I got on with it avidly enough, but then I saw Gail had broken her pencil. She tried writing with it; a plainly hopeless endeavour, so I asked,
‘do you want to borrow my pencil sharpener?’
She looked at me rather warily and shyly, and said
‘Y-Y-Y…’
And then nodded.
I gave her the sharpener, and while she got on with using it, I realised that she had other problems other than myopia and a patched eye: she had a really bad stutter. I had, in my limited experiences up to then never heard one that bad, and only a few since then worse than hers. She handed it back with a little smile, and said to me
‘Th… Th…’
Someone giggled at the back of the class, and I heard a soft
‘G-G-G…’
Followed by a giggle. Gail went red in the face and looked away. The teacher told us all to be quiet and get on with it, so we did.
I looked up from writing, and saw Gail gazing out of the window again - she was daydreaming…
…The Princess swept along, scattering courtiers in her wake as she walked toward her throne. Although it was not as splendid as that of her father the King, it was certainly well provided with luxury and comfort. She turned and sat. One of the courtiers announced,
‘the Princess Gail is now in court!’
And so she was, dressed in white silk robes of finest design and manufacture, soft and yet so opulent, a small tiara stuffed full of diamonds on her fair head. And on her face another type of jewelry: her glasses, complete with patched lens: behind the unpatched thick right lens her eye imperiously watched her court doing her bidding… Some young, handsome men were ushered in, dressed in colourful, expensive clothing, even more so than those of the court, yet perhaps not matching hers in splendour: these were hopeful suitors, wishing to claim her hand in marriage. Princess Gail surveyed them with an indulgent eye, and began to decide which one was the best…
- Hello Cruel World
Abruptly Princess Gail heard her voice being called
‘Gail! Gail! Pay attention to me, you stupid girl!’
I saw Gail’s eye blink with surprise, and she saw the teacher glaring at her. She called out again
‘Gail!’
She realised what was going on: she was being scolded for not paying attention. The old schoolmistress did not listen to Gail’s typically stuttered apology and the explanation that she got nowhere with. Poor Gail was told to stay behind at the end of the lesson. She got laughed at cruelly for her troubles, and that was not all.
I waited outside for her, and I thought I heard the schoolmistress shouting at her and calling her stupid again. And then came the worst part: I heard the sound of a cane being whipped around, then a series of whacks and little cries of pain and anguish, mounting in volume and duration after each strike. There were six in all. I thought I heard the schoolmistress say firmly,
’let that be a lesson to you! Get out!’
The door opened, and I went to hide. Gail came out first, tears running down her cheeks, followed by the schoolmistress. I was hiding because I had no wish on the list for a caning! Cowardice perhaps, but then I was only a child.
- Starblade
Gail sat reading in the library a few days later: she read quickly and easily, devouring works of children’s fiction. The latest book, a sort of space adventure, lay open in front of her. She sat with her chin in her hands, staring into space…
… A gleaming point of light sped effortlessly through space: we went closer to inspect it: it was a ship, a silver-grey dart of power and grace that caressed the eye with some of the beauty belonging to a fairy tale castle, and terrified with the implications of the might held in check within it. We went still closer, and saw the name on the side of the ship: “Starblade”…
… Aboard the ship, a “Red Alert” siren sounded, thus people in steel-grey uniforms walked with purpose to their posts. Walking confidently around a corner was a tall, slim woman, with a blaze of blonde hair and wearing a spectacularly figure-hugging gold and silver uniform - and glasses: she was quite a myopic woman, around the minus 12 mark. She paused briefly to talk with another officer who had saluted her, then addressed her
‘Lyra, there is another Xaran Battlecruiser in range, in sector T-1: those guys just never give up.’
Lyra replied in her usual uplifting manner,
‘don’t worry, we’ll soon send them packing!’
He didn’t really need to worry, for this was the famous Lyra Starfire: leader of this ship’s Astrofighter squadrons and the greatest space pilot the Earth Confederation possessed. Minutes later a gleaming squadron of Astrofighters surged toward the enemy ship, leaping forward in anticipation of a kill, one of them piloted by Lyra, her blonde hair falling around her shoulders, lights from her cockpit reflecting off her plano-fronted lenses sharply and rather more diffusely from her flight suit. The ugly black ship turned to face them and begun to defend itself with clumsy and indiscriminate violence: beams of energy cleaved the silence and darkness of space. Lyra ducked and wove her small craft between them, before her finger pressed the red fire-button on her joystick, and thus hard, searing orange bolts of energy spewed forth from the nose of her ship in staccato reply…
- Meeting of Worlds
Two of Gail’s tormenters came up behind her: as she was lost in thought, she didn’t see them, but she certainly heard what one of them said
‘G-G-G-Gail!’
Then the two of them collapsed into helpless laughter. At that moment I walked in, hearing their laughter. I soon realised who they were, and who they were laughing at: the bemused and unhappy Gail. She looked as if she’d just woken from a dream. I shrugged and went to search for a suitable book to read.
Moments later I heard
‘L-L-L….’
followed by more giggles. One of them asked, tauntingly,
‘what are you trying to say, Gail? Legs? Long? Lazy?’
Yet more giggles followed.
I couldn’t stand and watch it any longer, being as Gail looked as if she was about to burst into tears. I walked over and said firmly,
’leave her alone!’
The girls abruptly stopped laughing and glared at me as one. One of them looked at me with a derisive sneer and snapped,
‘Get out of here, Puffin!’
But it was these two pests who left, not me. The other girl poked her friend in the side and whispered,
‘maybe we’d best not….’
I wasn’t such an easy target as Gail: they then wandered off in search of someone else to annoy.
I turned to Gail; she looked up at me for a long moment, her single visible eye blinking back tears. She smiled gently, and said
‘Th-th-th…’
I replied,
’that’s OK.’
And started to walk off.
I heard her call after me
‘P-P-P-Puf…’
I turned back to look at her, and saw that she was waving me over to sit with her! I walked over and sat at the table at right angles to her, and we started to talk. Actually it was quite unlike talking, because her stutter prevented her making much sense, at least at first: I was obliged to guess what she was saying. After a some time, she seemed to relax a little, so her stutter became somewhat more comprehensible, albeit still pretty bad. She explained that she was very lonely and unhappy here, and had no friends at all. Then she got up and walked to the door, beckoning me to follow her, saying as best as she could render
‘G-G-G-Go…. Ou-Ou-Ou..Out’
The words were still catching in her throat, but I realised she wanted me to go outside with her. Fair enough, I thought.
We went out into the playing field, and toward a corner that I’d not been to much before: it seemed as if this was Gail’s hiding place. She sat on the grass, and pointed at the grass next to her, thus indicating that I was to sit next to her, so I did. She then produced a book from her satchel which she invariably carried around with her. This she opened and showed it to me, pointing at a particular page: it didn’t seem like the regular work that we studied. It was a story, written in immaculate handwriting: she was far neater than me, even considering that I was a boy and she a girl!
I started reading the story, entitled “The Universal Eye”. It was a little fragmentary, but the gist of it was very interesting…
- The Universal Eye
…There was a shadow of a head on the wall of the temple: a shadow wearing a hat. Then it moved, and we heard a woman’s voice softly cursing, then the owner of the voice entered the Vault of Secrets. Could it be…? No, it was definitely a young woman, in her low twenties, tall and lithe, dressed in rather well-used sand-coloured shirt and trousers. She was looking down at the floor at the moment, thus we saw the battered and patched fedora that once had belonged to her father. For this was none other than Idaho Jane, daughter of the famous adventurer…
….She lifted her head and looked up at the walls, and in doing so the flickering light of the lighted brand she held revealed her face, her plastic-framed glasses glittering in that uncertain light…
…She walked over to the wall and started examining a certain spot, and then pressed at it. There was a distinct “click”, then with a soft grinding noise, a door opened, previously invisible in its stony workmanship. When it was open, Jane stepped in, her bespectacled gaze alert for danger. This was why this Vault was so-called: it held the fabled “Universal Eye”, a diamond of such size and clarity…
….Jane entered the small chamber containing the jewel, set upon a pedestal, shining brightly in the sunlight which came through a hole far above. She stepped forward to take it, first checking carefully for any booby-traps. There appeared to be none, so she took the fist-sized diamond in her hands and held it up to the ray of light. This diamond was almost unnaturally clear, and looking through it she realised that she could see slightly more clearly than before. Quickly she pulled off her glasses and looked again through just the diamond at the wall beyond. It was true! This diamond really was aptly named, for the myopic Jane, with minus 11 in each eye, could see perfectly clearly through the “Universal Eye”, even more so than with glasses…
….She carefully but quickly wrapped and stored the diamond in her bag, then stepped back out into the Vault of Secrets; once there she heard another rumbling sound. She looked around, and saw that the door she’d found wasn’t closing, as had happened the last time she’d heard that sound. Suddenly the main door to the Vault slammed shut and locked tight despite her pushing and hammering…
- Some Kindness in the World
I was amazed and not a little pleased to read this: I was amazed that someone could have such ideas and put them into some sense of order, and very pleased that she’d shared this with me. I had to admit I liked what I’d read and also that I also liked to write stories. I told her
‘Gail, I like to write stories like this.’
‘R-R-Really?’
‘Yes: I have a story about a princess with glasses who was very lonely, a story about this girl in a wheelchair who likes to do archery, oh, there’s a story about a nurse I met once who couldn’t see too well but got on OK with her job, and a story about this girl who loses her glasses…’
Softly Gail pushed hers back onto her face and smiled gently. Then she asked
‘D-D-D….D-Do you l-like g-g-girls who w-w-wear glasses?’
I nodded rather solemnly, to which she gave a lovely big smile and touched her glasses again. She seemed to have momentarily forgotten she could only see out of one lens. I asked,
‘how long have your worn the patch on your lens?’
‘T-Two years. I d-d-dont like it.’
She looked rather displeased, being that she had yet to meet a boy, or anyone else, who did not mind her appearance nor her stuttering. But it rather galled her that she had to be wearing a stupid eyepatch at the time. God only knew what she looked like, she thought to herself glumly. That thought reflected on her face, and I guessed rightly she was far from keen on the eyepatching. I just said,
‘perhaps it will be taken off sometime soon.’
She shrugged, and looked rather more unhappy. I blurted out rather unceremoniously,
‘you look cute in your patched glasses.’
She smiled a little smile, tried to say something, but her throat grabbed hold of it and it was gone.
- Looking for the Key
Presently we started back for indoors, and Gail started telling me more about herself, about how her parents had been killed in a road accident and none of her nearby relatives were willing or able to take her on. That sounded so familiar to me. She told me that she dreamt of her parents being alive, maybe in some other world not so far away from our own, and maybe she could reach out to them. It seemed a bit of a heroic and desperate wish, but also one that seemed to be highly unlikely, being only possible in one’s imagination.
We went back indoors, and she guided me down some stairs and into a part of the building I’d never been to before. She took me down a corridor I never knew existed, and in the dim light I saw a small patch of light at the end. She pointed and said
‘H-H-Head’s O-O-Office.’
I understood what she meant: this was a peephole into the Office belonging to the Headmistress. How she had found it I did not know, being as children were never meant to be down here. She held her finger against her lips and led me down the corridor. The peephole turned out to be jammed right against the end wall of the corridor; despite being less than half an inch wide, through it I could see glimpses of whatever the Head’s Office contained. Then I noticed some scrapes against the end wall of the corridor, level with the hole but a few inches back. I wondered how they had got there, but Gail quickly provided me with the answer to that.
She walked right up to the hole, stood on tip-toes then put her left eye and lens to the hole. Alas, that was the lens that had the patch over it, and thus quite obviously she could see nothing. So she then started trying to twist her head around to look through her unpatched right lens, and in doing so dug a few more furrows in the wood next to the peephole. Try as she might, she could not get her right eye into a suitable position to see very much at all. Her last resort was to take off her glasses: she didn’t trust herself to remove and replace the patch, so she tried peeking bareeyed into the Head’s Office. Getting her head into a suitable position was now no problem, but actually seeing clearly was a non-starter. She said nothing during this whole performance, but it was obvious she needed me to help her.
I asked,
‘what are you looking for?’
‘T-Th-The k-k-key rack.’
She explained in her staccato fashion that the keys for the front gate were kept here. I was amazed at what this implied. I asked,
‘you mean - you wish to escape?’
She nodded, and I agreed with her. I then asked,
‘what do you want to know?’
She wanted to know if there was more than one set of keys for the gate: if so, they might be taken and not noticed. If she was lucky.
I immediately put my left eye to the hole and looked around. There were the usual things anyone would keep in an office, and on the wall by the door, the key rack that Gail had wanted to see so badly. I told her
’there seems to be three keys for it. And some others that look very similar hanging below it.’
I paused, and then said,
‘perhaps we can switch one of the gate keys for a similar set.’
I turned and met her one-eyed gaze. She asked,
‘you - c-come too?’
I nodded, and she smiled. I asked when she planned to try it, and she replied
‘T-t-t-tonight.’
We crept around to the Head’s Office and into there from the door I’d seen from the peephole. That it was was unlocked didn’t really concern me much: I doubt that the Headmistress really considered that any of us escaping was a serious possibility. Within a few minutes we were headed back to our rooms, with the key firmly in Gail’s possession.
- The World Beyond the Gate
That same night I crept out of bed, took my small bag of supplies and my few worthwhile possessions, climbed out the window and went to find Gail. I cautiously walked up the drive to the main gate, looking for Gail. I was getting nearer and nearer, and worried that perhaps she hadn’t come, when I heard a whispered
‘P-Puffin!’
I turned then saw a little white face and a little light gleaming off her unpatched plano fronted right lens. She smiled, and emerged from the trees to my left.
With a suitable mix of speed and caution we got ourselves to the gate, and I took the key from Gail’s hand, and thus unlocked the gate. It was heavy for two children to push open, but we did it anyway because we’d really had enough of the place. Once on the outside, I locked the gate, then we scampered across the road, pushed our way through a hedge and ran across the field beyond.
Gail couldn’t keep up with me, so I slowed for her, and as she was panting heavily, I headed for the nearest clump of trees, not the bigger darker one further away. I sprinted in; she followed me panting and labouring, and sat next to me amongst some bushes. Her breathing filled my ears as she recovered. Then she said
‘I-I-Im slow. S-S-Sorry.’
‘That’s OK.’
She leant over and patted me on the back.
We had to move, because we needed to put distance between us and the house. But Gail was a bit slower than I’d anticipated, so we didn’t dash quite as fast over the next field. After a while we’d both given up running as it was too tiring, instead resorting to walking. After a while we rested in a small copse: Gail then said
‘Pl-p-please… We c-c-can st-st-stay h-here?
She wanted to sleep a while, so we settled down for the night, huddled up closer than I’d ever been to a girl. I felt her hand grasp mine, and after I’d shut my eyes, a little wet kiss on my cheek!
The next morning we awoke bright and early: there did not seem to be any sign of pursuit yet, so we could relax a little. But it would be a journey of many days and some months before they forgot about us. Alas after four days we were “caught,” after a fashion. We had unknowingly encroached on the land belonging to a rich landowner: a gamekeeper had been stalking us for some hours, before catching us then forcing us to follow him to the main house. Thankfully we were many miles away from the house we’d escaped from, and he nor the landowner had heard of our escape.
He was rather surprised to see us: two rather dirty and scrawny ragamuffins. But something caught his eye, because he took us in and was very kind to us. This man was in his late forties and unmarried, his name was Mr Jenkinson. We stayed in this house for most of the rest of our lives, because in due course he adopted us as his children. After a few months Gail got her lens patch removed, and was thus able to see two-eyed for the first time in nearly three years.
We grew up as nominal brother and sister, each helping and encouraging each other to think of and write lovely and imaginative stories. As Gail hit her early teens, the inevitable happened: her myopia started to increase dramatically, and she started needing thicker and thicker glasses in order to see clearly, eventually progressing to minus 19 by the time she was eighteen, and myodiscs became a necessity. It was some weeks after her twentieth birthday when we stopped being brother and sister, and I could gaze into her eyes and think of her as my wife instead, because of course in reality we were completely unrelated. And so I wrote this story in honour of my lovely young high-myope wife, who could just about see as clearly as I could in good daylight, but at night, well she really struggled. But in her mind’s eye, she saw as clearly as I did.