PART 1.
My name is Martin Rhodes. The year is 2024. I’m typing this out on my desktop computer, from my home office. I’ve been contemplating the decision to put this all into words since I became an adult, but each time I’ve tried, I’ve had to stop. It’s hard to type this. But I’ve delayed for too long. I’m doing it today. With what’s coming, it just feels like the right time.
I’ll begin by bringing you back to the start of my life. I was born in England, in the village of Steeple Claydon, in 1987. The village lies in the county of Buckinghamshire. The South East of England, about two hours away from London, as a reference. That may sound close, but the village is fairly remote. The reasoning for the village name comes from two facts…The name Steeple derives from the village containing its own Steeple, and the name Claydon comes from the village being built upon a large clay deposit. Not relevant to the story, but just some history. The village is small. Really small. You could walk from one end to the other in about 30 minutes or less. When I was growing up there, it was even smaller, with less housing and buildings. Surrounding the village are acres of fields and woodland areas, for what seems like miles. As a kid, I used to walk through them with friends, and see how long it would take us before the village was completely out of sight. I miss those times. Innocent times.
My parents both worked jobs. My Mother worked in a local village shop. Well, the only shop. She worked minimal hours, so she mainly looked after me while my Father worked. He worked outside of the village as a mechanical engineer, in a town in Oxfordshire, the next county over. He used to drive an hour there and an hour back, every single day, apart from Saturday. He had that day off to spend with us. I had no siblings, so it was mainly just me and my Mum most days.
I attended the village primary school from the age of five to the age of eleven, which is where I made all of my childhood friends. Every kid who attended the school lived in the village, and I was friends with almost everybody in my class. There were two friends in particular that I was close to. Shaun Harper, and Jamie Glynn. We were a trio of boys who liked to think of ourselves as the village mystery gang. We all loved detective shows and novels, and we formed a group together to solve any mystery’s that may surface within the village’s bounds. Of course, no mystery ever did. Nothing interesting ever happened here in the village. But the fields, and the surrounding forestry…that’s where the excitement was. Exploring the depths of nature…it’s something that instinctively allures your young mind. The need to explore. It’s natural.
We would leave clues for ourselves and then follow our mapped out trails towards solving the final mystery. This became a weekly occurrence. We would sometimes have more fun planning the mysteries than actually solving them. We promised each other that if we ever left this place, we would become detectives for real. None of us ever did. One of us would never leave, and the other…
The year was 1995. I was 8 years old, and only two years away from finishing primary school, along with Shaun and Jamie. All three of us were planning our weekly mystery, and this was a good one. We had set up clues all around the surrounding woodlands towards the back end of the village. We called this area the planks, as it contained a small wooden plank bridge across a river connected to a treeline. The clues were pieces of chicken that I managed to scrape away from my dinner plate one night and keep in a sealed bag. I daren’t tell my Mum for fear of being scolded for wasting food. We had spread the chicken through the planks, which led to a wolf Halloween mask, propped up in some shrubbery. The idea was that we were on the trail of a werewolf, and the pieces of chicken were human meat, leading us to the creature. We had our toy guns and waistcoats at the ready. I also had a fedora, which I had recently been given for my birthday, but both Jamie and Shaun didn’t have theirs until later that year, so I would be the only one donning the hat at this time.
We were about to set off from my house on our grand mystery hunt, but as we got to the front door, my Dad stepped in. This was a rare occurrence. The day was Sunday, which meant he should have been at work. From behind him, appeared a man that I could faintly recognise, but whose identity I couldn’t recall. My Dad saw me, smiled, then cleared his throat.
“Martin,” he said softly. “Your Uncle Robert is here to stay for a few weeks.” That was it! My Uncle. I couldn’t remember ever seeing him in person, only in pictures. “It’s been a while, little Martin”. My Uncle stepped forward and smiled at me. He extended his hand. “God, you’ve grown so much.” I extended my hand and shook his. His hand was warm and soft. I remember liking my Uncle immediately. His demeanour seemed relaxed, and just from his leather jacket and tight black jeans, I could tell he was cooler than my Dad, despite looking older. My Dad, in comparison, looked tired. He was wearing a baggy shirt and overalls. The same ones he wore to work. My Dad was always tired. I didn’t realise at the time quite how many hours he spent working. Despite knowing he was at work, I guess I always figured he was spending time having fun, or doing what he loved. As I get older myself, I realise that this is the furthest thing from the truth. I was just a kid and my views on subjects were highly skewed. After the initial greeting, my Dad told me and my friends to be careful as we ventured into the forest.
On the way, the three of us were in deep discussion, roleplaying as our detectives. As we got nearer to the forest, Shaun suddenly stopped. He burst into tears. I was confused seeing this as an 8 year old boy. Seeing someone cry with no apparent reasoning made me feel strange. Me and Jamie gave each other a glance, then walked over to Shaun to ask what the issue was. Shaun wouldn’t say. He just kept shaking his head. Jamie looked as lost as I did. We were both helpless to our friend if we didn’t know the issue at hand.
Shaun suddenly choked out some words…”Mr-Mr Ryan.” Me and Jamie both frowned. “What about Mr Ryan?” I said. Mr Ryan was our year 5 school teacher. He was fairly new to the village, but people had taken to him well enough, and so had we. He was the “cool kind of teacher” that you would want as a kid. He was young, maybe late twenties, early thirties at most. We were around a quarter of the way through the school year, and we had thoroughly enjoyed being taught by him. He would bring in his playstation one console and let us play games on lunch breaks. He would show us his action men and rare transformer collections. He was the after school football teacher. He was like us, a kid. Nobody had an issue with Mr Ryan, least of all Shaun, who proclaimed in his first week of teaching, that he was the coolest teacher that any of us had ever had. So why, at this very moment, was he crying and saying his name?
Shaun ignored my question, so Jamie asked it again for me. “Oi, Shaun. What about Mr Ryan?” Shaun wiped a bead of snot from his nose with his waistcoat sleeve, and blinked his eyes several times, trying to clear the tears. He started to speak, but he looked unsure of how to say the words, like he wasn’t allowed.
“Do you want us to go and get your parents-” I started to say, before Shaun immediately cut me off. “No! Don’t say a word to them. I-I mean it Martin.” Shaun was scared. Completely and utterly terrified. And me and Jamie didn’t know why. Shaun seemed to compose himself and took a deep breath. “Let’s go detectives.” He was back in character in a matter of seconds, as he walked past me and Jamie towards the forest.
When I look back on this first incident, it makes me wonder how much would or would not have happened, had Shaun just told us. Had he not choked on the words, would we all be sitting here now…with our own detective agency, our own families…our own lives. So much could have been prevented, had he just told us.
We didn’t stay in the forest long. After Shaun’s outburst, we were all a little timid. The mood had been dampened, and I didn’t know about Jamie, but I couldn’t wait to just get home. We all said goodbye soon enough, and I returned to my house. My Dad was still there, in mid conversation with my Uncle. My Mum was in the kitchen, cooking dinner. I had school the next day, so I knew that I would be going to bed early. Maybe I could use my Uncle as an excuse to stay up later. It worked when my Grandma came around to visit. Maybe it will work this time.
As I entered the living room, my Dad and Uncle both turned to greet me. My Dad asked me how it went in the forest. This was strange as I never normally get asked questions like this by my Dad. He’s normally too tired or busy as he puts it to speak much to me. It’s work, dinner and then soon after, bed. “It was fine.” I replied. My Dad must have sensed a lack of authenticity in my voice, because he immediately followed up with “Are you sure?” I nodded, not wanting to have an awkward conversation about my friend crying. My Uncle leaned in and ruffled my hair. “Where did this come from, hey? Last time I saw you, you were bald as a baby’s bottom.” I thought this was a strange choice of words at the time. Then I realised, he must have last seen me when I was a baby, hence the connection. I just laughed and went along with the joke. Anything to delay my bedtime.
My wish was granted, as I went to bed a full two hours after my usual time. I overheard some of the conversations between my Uncle and Dad. Both were discussing jobs. Careers. My Dad made an offer to my Uncle several times, but my Uncle declined each one. With each rejection, my Dad would sigh loudly. At one point, I thought the two might argue, but it never happened.
When I was tucked into bed, my Mum came into my room to say goodnight. She told me that my Uncle would be staying for as long as he needed to, whilst he looked for another job. He had lost his last one, and needed somewhere to stay whilst he got back on his feet. I was ecstatic. The chance to go to bed late every night was a dream come true for a young kid. My Uncle being cool was just a bonus. I felt as though these next few months were going to be the best of my life. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
The next day at school, Shaun seemed off. I spoke to Jamie privately in the morning, asking if we should speak to him about what happened. Jamie was reluctant, and to be honest, so was I. When we sat down for class, the sight of Mr Ryan, for the very first time, left an empty feeling in my stomach. There was a reason that Shaun mentioned his name, but we didn’t know why, and that disturbed me for some reason. The day went as normal, and, after the usual daily routine of lessons, break, lessons, lunch, lessons and a final assembly, the empty feeling had, for the most part, subsided. Shaun however, was still not himself.
At the end of the day, as all three of us walked off together, I decided to reopen the subject. “Shaun.” I said. “Can you please tell us what happened yesterday? It really freaked us out. You just started…crying. Why? Is someone bullying you?” There had never been any bullies at our school. We were a friendly community, so even the thought of asking that question seemed stupid. “No.” Shaun shook his head. “No bullies.” “Then what?” Jamie asked. “You wouldn’t understand.” Shaun said. “Try us, then?” I said, just happy that Shaun was at least responding to our questions now. Shaun remained quiet for a moment. He froze suddenly, then quickly snapped his head to look behind him towards the school gates. We both followed his gaze. In the distance, there was an outline of a figure. I couldn’t make it out at first. One of the teachers? I focused my eyes on the outline. It was Mr Ryan. He raised his right arm to wave. I waved back, and so did Jamie. Shaun just…stared.
He turned his head around and made for a quick pace down the path. Me and Jamie quickened our own to keep up. “Shaun, what the hell is going on? Why are you running away-” I was cut off quickly. “Leave me alone! I don’t want to be your friend anymore, okay?! I don’t want to talk to any of you! I hate you both!” Me and Jamie were lost for words. Our lifelong friend, who suddenly hated us. The worst part was that we had done nothing wrong. I saw tears begin to leave Shaun’s eye ducts once more, and start to stream down his cheeks. He must have realised, as held his arm to his eyes and took off in a hurry. Jamie and I didn’t give chase this time. Neither of us wanted to admit it, but we both felt like crying too. Our best friend, who hates us…this situation seemed impossible just days ago.
We discussed it on the way back. “Maybe Mr Ryan scolded him in class?” Jamie suggested. I was unsure. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mr Ryan shout at anyone. Let alone Shaun.” I haven’t mentioned this yet, but Shaun was a grade-A student. Very smart, and very dedicated. He was a teacher’s dream. On top of that, he was an athlete. He loved sports, all of them. Me and Jamie were okay at football, but that was about it. Jamie was a little bit on the chubby side, and I was a little on the skinny. We weren’t built for contact sports. But Shaun was. Shaun was, by girls standards, reasonably handsome too. He had some freckles, but a lot of the girls had fawned over him in our village. We’d often call him “The Angel kid” as a joke. Shaun hated that. He just wanted to fit in with the rest of us. That’s why he was so close to me and Jamie, I think. We were different from him, but that made him comfortable. And that’s what friendship should be.
Me and Jamie separated once we passed Jamie’s road, and I continued towards my house. Shaun lived on the other side of the village, so any chance of seeing him on my way was slim. Once I dropped my bag off at the door, what had just happened suddenly hit me, and a wave of sadness overcame me. My Dad was back at work, and my Mum was in the kitchen. My Uncle, I assumed, was either upstairs or out looking for work.
“Hi, sweetheart,” my Mum said. “How was school?” I shrugged. My Mum stopped washing up and came over to sit with me at the table. She always knew when I wasn’t myself. Spending so much time around me, she had become wise to me in every way. She knew when I was lying, when I was embarrassed, and most importantly, when I was upset. “What happened?” I decided to tell my Mum the full story. I was at a loss with Shaun, and wondered if my Mum might be able to speak to Shaun’s Mum to resolve the situation. They were good friends, and sometimes, the parents really do know best. Once I had finished telling her the events of the past two days, I remembered the exact look on her face. It wasn’t one of concern. It wasn’t a look of empathy. It wasn’t even a look of frustration, having to deal with another childhood argument. I remember the look…it was fear. She just stared at me for several seconds after I finished, then immediately rose from the table to continue washing up. I asked her if she was okay, but she just told me “I’ll speak to Shaun’s mum as soon as I can.” That was a satisfying answer for me. I went up to my room, hopeful that by tomorrow, me, Shaun and Jamie would all be best friends again. But that didn’t happen. It never would. It never would, because Shaun took his own life that night.
END OF PART 1.