Phyllis McKenna

         FALL

|First thing I have to tell you, Folks is that my dentist is actually in Romania. Bucharest to be exact and No I’m not having retractable fangs inserted. It was the cheapest place for implants and I was going to my brother’s dentist so no fear of any mishaps. Lordy! My other two siblings, wives and kids were heading to the Black sea coast where my brother had a holiday home. They were all on holiday, except me. I was headed for the dentist so couldn’t go with them. Sun, sand and sea for them. Drills, fillings and pain for me. So having waved them off, I settled myself in my friend’s comfy flat. It wasn’t so bad. I walked a lot, not being far from Bucharest town. I got to see and know the sights when one morning I spotted the fancy hotel. The Bucharest Hilton. I discovered that you could actually use the fitness suite, sauna and pool for a small price for the day. So a few days later in I went. Now considering I couldn’t really swim at the time, I was learning at home, if I remember rightly the Hilton pool wasn’t too deep. Off I swum up and down, quite happy with my progress.

        After all that exertion, five minutes, I was feeling tired out, climbed out of the pool and proceeded to walk to my deck chair. One minute I was walking, the next I was lying flat out on the floor, feeling so clumsy and embarrassed, especially when a gentleman came over to assist me. I thanked him, insisting I was fine and sat down, lifted my book and began to read. Was I ever so wrong!

  A few minutes later, I realised something was not quite right. My right arm was shaking and refused to do my bidding. What the Hell was wrong? At that point no pain whatsoever. Adrenaline probably kicking in. I called the lifeguard over and tried to explain what it felt like. I don’t speak Romanian but the lady was good at English. I really don’t remember when the pain started. It must have been at that moment because the lady immediately called for an ambulance.

Oh! Lordy! Pain! Never felt anything like it. Well, maybe childbirth comes in there somewhere above it.  Think it was a man who decided that childbirth pain was the easiest forgotten after holding the beautiful  ne born in your arms. Forget that! Yes, my kids were beautiful and still are but the memory of pain remains. I was transported to hospital and deposited in a cubicle, already occupied, may I add , by a lady on a bed and husband, I presume. Only the lady in the bed! The husband sitting beside her. Now remembering I was still wearing my swimsuit with hotel dressing gown over it and a pair of their slippers. I was greatly taken aback when after divesting myself of the dressing gown I was then asked to remove my swimsuit. What? Were they joking? Had they forgotten  there was a man over there. I refused quite definitely until said gentleman left the room. He was not too pleased to be leaving his sick wife but I was not flaunting myself in front of a stranger. Not that I have much to flaunt! Examination over, I was trussed up like a chicken and transported back to the flat. The leisure centre lady was very good. She collected my pain killers for me from the chemist  but then requested I return the dressing gown and slippers. But after seeing my distressed face she relented.

   So there was I, all alone in the flat, feeling so sorry for myself, while the rest of my family enjoyed the sun, sand and sea of the Black Sea Coast. I could hear folks outside laughing and having fun, even smell the barbeques. I couldn’t get outside the door. Too many locks, handles and such, couldn’t turn them. I lived on crackers and juice for a few days because bending and trying to reach stuff was quite uncomfortable. Alcohol and crackers would have been better but sure you can’t have everything. No point in ringing my family, spoiling their holiday. What could they do? Just sympathise with me? I waited until they were returning and I rang. Conversation went something like this.

 “Hmmm! How are you all? Sunned, sanded and swum.”

“Yeah! Had a great time. Beautiful here. You should have come with us.”

“ You know I think you could be right. I had a little adventure of my own. I broke my shoulder.”

Well, the silence on the other end of the line was deafening. Until I heard the shocked voice of my brother Tony:

“Good God!”

Explanations given and arrival time estimated we hung up. My trials were not yet over. At Bucharest airport I was brought into a small room to be searched. Security must have thought I was faking the injury and was carrying drugs, rifles, bottles of tuica, the beautiful tasting Romanian brandy. They were set on removing my bandage. Please don’t, I silently begged. It really hurts. I eventually boarded the plane for home, the painkillers knocking me out for the whole journey.

My son picked me up from  the station and drove me to his house. I stayed with the family for a while because I couldn’t really do anything for myself. I couldn’t even fasten my bra which was no loss. As I said before, there wasn’t much to protect.

  Two really stupid things I whinged  to my son.

“I won’t be able to get arrested now.”

“Why would you want to get arrested, Mum?”

“I don’t” I answered.” It’s just I wouldn’t be able to get my arm round my back.”

“ You can always get handcuffed round the front, you know.” And he just shook his head at his crazy Mum.

“Also, I won’t be able to do Auld Lang Syne.” Not that I ever wanted to.

Aaron just shook his head again and said exasperatedly:

“ Take your painkillers, Mum,” probably hoping they would knock me out for a while.

“ I think they’re affecting your brain.”

  The doctor’s diagnosis was that my shoulder resembled a boiled sweet that someone had taken a hammer to. After weeks of physio at home and in the hospital I regained most of the movement in my arm. It will never be the same again but I can swim and dive now. How about that?

Fire arrives in many forms. Good and bad. It’s a constant source of heat when needed even if it can’t be seen. We depend on it for our home, work and leisure pursuits. Fire is a colourful ,crazy  and cruel if used in a demonic and devious way. Oh! There you go! What’s worse than a devilish hell  and all consuming fire waiting for us maybe when we shrug off this mortal coil.

I’m sure my Mum, who passed away a few years go went to the Good Place, where fire is not seen but warmth certainly felt. O.K I’m getting carried away by religious nonsense. What I’m trying to say is that fire is not always visible. I have fire in my heart for Elvis but it can’t be seen. So lets get back to Mum. She had dementia and wasn’t herself at the end. She had been living with my brother and sister-in-law in Dublin and that’s where she passed away. Mum’s remains arrived in Andersonstown before my brother and I got there. Courtesy of the undertakers! Mum didn’t make her own way up. It was a very cold February night and we were glad of the heat when we entered the house. Everything had been prepared.  The central heating was turned up to ensure visitors were warm and toasty when they came to pay their respects. And there were a fair amount of visitors. And the heat was kept on. Mum would have had a fit at the expense. As the night drew on everyone settled down. Now in some religions there is a practice of not allowing the remains to be left alone. Not sure of the meaning. Was it because the person might rise up and escape before the Devil with his fires of Hell came and claimed the body. If they arrived first you were doomed. Or was it just a nice gesture to keep your loved one company and prevent this catastrophe.

My brother Joseph and I decided we would keep the vigil, me on the sofa, Joseph on a bedside chair. Now remember the heat was still on. Getting as warm as a fiery furnace in the house. I swear my brother had only just put his head on the pillow when all Hell broke loose. (Fire again!) The most Godawful noises started to emanate from my bro. I really thought the Devil had got in somehow and my Mum was going to be dragged to the flames of the Damned. Now I blame the fiery heat (Fire again!) But according to Angela, his wife, the next day, that was usual for Joseph. How did the poor girl stick it! I pushed him, shoved him, shouted at him, to no avail.

I stayed as long as I could. If I had stayed any longer there would have been two bodies in the living room. I lifted my bed and left. Of course when he woke up the next morning he found himself alone and the heat was still going.

Now I know you’re all thinking what has this got to do with fire. Let me explain. Well, isn’t central heating a type of fire, caused by a spark and a flame igniting  the furnace in the boiler.

So to the best part of the story. My niece Nicole, who had recently given birth to a beautiful baby boy, on my birthday actually, 3^rd Feb. She travelled all the way up from Cork with the new baby, just a few days old, her husband and older son, M.J, who would have been about nine years old, to attend her Nanny’s funeral. Courageous and kind lady. We were all assembled in Mum’s bedroom, Nicole feeding the beautiful new addition, Derek and I lolling on the bed. Young M.J lying down the side of the bed playing away happily.

Suddenly Nicole jumps:

“ Phyllis, is the heating still on. It’s really hot in here.”

“Yes. Just to keep visitors warm.” I replied.

“Hmm! Do you think we should turn it down for a while?”

I looked a bit puzzled by this request until Derek, the hubby states:

“It’s just that we heard that if it’s too warm in a room where a body is situated it could explode.”

“ You think Mum’s going to explode?” I was laughing.

Well, I’ve never seen a child’s wee head pop up so fast in my life.

“What?” M.J exclaimed , looking shocked.

We’d forgotten about young ears picking up everything, no matter how engrossed they are in their play.

We tried reassuring him that all was well, afraid that it might give him nightmares in the future. It wasn’t going to happen, that I was on my way down to lower the heating.

But, you know, a little part of me actually thought the child was a little disappointed. His Nanny exploding! Boy! Wouldn’t that be something to tell his school mates. It would be better than some of the games they play on their electronic gadgets.

Now, I’m not being disrespectful to my Mum because I know she’d be having a good life at this scenario.

This is were I nearly burst into flames. The priest arrived the next day to say prayers and give a blessing.  My body nearly exploded and landed in ashes on the floor. I’m not religious by any means! Well, I am a  Presleyite!  My church Graceland!

I know this is not fire as we know it but it was too good a story about this young child’s reaction.

I had been with the walking group for just a few weeks when a birthday was  announced. Christine’s birthday. Party to be held in Top of the Town bar, Antrim with drag artist as entertainment. Now, I just happen to love drag artists. I met up with a couple of them in Turkey. Loved the show so much I went back twice although at one point they asked to see my dentures and my age which I turned round to 37. The remark was “Well, you’d better get another plastic surgeon!” No offence taken. I got a nice cheek kiss from one on the second visit with a “Welcome back Love thrown in. Great fun but I was a little bit wary of not being included in the walking  group I mean I was a newcomer. I should have had no worries about that. 

“Of course!” They all said, “ the more the merrier!” 

So the birthday night arrived and we all met up in the bar. A goodly crowd of us. Laughing and joking and all waiting the arrival of Big Titties Bingo! Yes! That was her name! 

Big Titties was due in about a half hour so we patiently waited imbibing cocktails and wine. Not impatient at all. The craic was ninety and the drinks superb. Suddenly without warning there she was. What a sight! Legs up to her armpits, long blond hair down her back, not stuck on her back. Just flowing freely like a golden shower. Make up to perfection, although the five o’ clock shadow was a little bit visible. She was nearly dressed in a flowing almost see through skirt to the hip and a deeply plunging satiny blouse almost see through also I was a little jealous. Not very well endowed in that respect. If I wore a plunging neckline I’d be arrested for attempting to impersonate a woman. She was breathtaking. Swanned around the tables, insulting and praising punters as she went. All good fun!  

I didn’t even know she was anywhere near me until I heard the words: 

“Just let me get past this old woman.” 

Looking around, not realising it was me she was referring to. But it was. I should have known then that was only the beginning. She had found a juicy victim in the crowd and that victim was me. She sidled between myself and Joe, another walker, Susan his wife next to him. 

“Is that your wife?! 

“Yes.” From Joe. 

“By choice.” 

No one took offence. Everyone knew what was on offer that night or any night that was drag and if you were easily offended just don’t attend. After a few more remarks to Joe and his Susan, she leaned closer to him whilst looking at me and whispered: 

“Do you think we should check she’s still breathing.” 

 This  remark of course aimed at me. She then spotted one of our crowd wearing a flowery blouse and attention was diverted on to poor Beth Not for long though! 

“Phyllis,” right behind me again she was. 

“What?” 

“How do you know Christine?” 

“We both belong to an Antrim walking group.” 

“Oh! Hmm! Walking Group! Do you walk unaided?” 

“No! “ I replied. “ I have a Zimmer frame.” What I should have added was  also a nurse and doctor on standby. 

That maybe had stumped her a bit because I was left alone again. For a while. My friends had begun to sympathise with me but I assured them I was taking it all in good fun. 

After another few rounds of the crowd Big Titties announced she was going on a break and whilst on that break she was going to have sex with Phyllis. All I could do was roll my eyes and laugh. No offence taken at all, just good, if not clean fun all round. 

Back she came after the break, slithering and sliding among the tables like a gazelle. I have great admiration for drag artistes. They are always so careful with their appearance, outshining many a female and looking so fantastic. The two I mentioned in Turkey did a surprising closing number. I’d never seen it done before. They played a song entitled “THIS IS ME” and divested themselves of their female attire. Off came the padded bras, the sequinned gowns, the heels and wigs. Make up thoroughly removed. They stood straight and proud in their male attire, superb entertainers that they were. An unexpected and wonderful end to the show. 

Back to Big Titties who maybe had decided I’d had enough. But No! Wishful thinking on my part. She’d spied someone, who was actually a waitress in Top of the Town, with the same haircut and hair colour as me. 

“Hey, Phyllis,”  

This by the way was shouted half way across the room. 

“Here’s a younger version of you.” 

Some of the comments directed at me or to other poor victims are not repeatable here but again real good craic. 

So CHEERS to the top of the town for a wonderful, joke filled evening and for the delicious cocktails. I had a frozen marguerita and a pina colada. YUM!  

And CHEERS to Big Titties Bingo for the laughter , not all directed at me but most of it, and the insults. Hope to see you again soon. You were class. Until we meet again soon. 

Oh, I suppose you’re wondering about the Bingo bit. Well, we were all given some pages with rows of numbers on them. Yes. Bingo. Whoever won could pick a drink of their choice. I wasn’t lucky there either!! 

Next time I’ll wear my armoured corset! Ping! Ping! All comments flying off and into the ether.