Spark, flame, smoke and all between by Anna M.
His story through the lens of a supporter on ‘why’ and the trauma behind ‘what’.
I love his house, it’s always tidy, clean, smells fresh, is extremely tastefully decorated and set up. It reminds me of a good show house, just more homely. At night he lights several different electric candles and other lights, he loves his fake flames. The real ones are not available to him.
He loves his home and his garden. He shows me his new cool silvery shade curtains, that’s the new addition to this sophisticated colour scheme eventually being expanded over his home. It’s cool and it’s kind of calming.
I like coming here. At the spring, summer and autumn time we do some work in his immaculate garden, we both love gardening and the plants always pay back for care by growing lush, healthy and giving so much pleasure to the eye, I would even say, loving us back.
He is house proud, he doesn’t smoke and drink, he is a clever guy, always pleasant.
A few days a week he goes to work, it’s nothing hard or complicated, it’s something like, putting NHS leaflets in envelops or packing gift cards, something along those lines. If a weather is good he goes to work on his pushbike, if not it’s a bus. Sometimes he goes just for a ride on his bike. He can’t go to certain areas, just not to trigger memories, he knows it, he never goes there.
Staff stays at his home, somebody should always be there, otherwise when he comes back and nobody waits for him, he feels abandoned and betrayed.
He was a sevenths and the youngest child in the family, the most likely he lacked attention. The family lived near a fire station. He enjoyed the most watching fire-brigade doing something, really anything. At early age he managed to start a fire nearby and with admiration watched how firemen worked fighting wildly spreading flames. Encouraged by his success, he repeated this adventure several times till somebody realised what’s going on.
He was a quiet boy, nobody could understand why those things happened. He calmed down or might just went undercover.
Later as a young adult he was stopped several times before really bad things happened. Once he dragged a large paper recycling bin in a multi-storey housing block and set it on fire. Fortunately nobody was hurt or property damaged.
Another really big and scary thing was when he tried to set on fire a large petrol cistern parked in a petrol station. This potential disaster was again fortunately stopped. For a while he had alcohol problems, committed some petty crime, spent some time in an institution.
Now he is free, drinking, petty crime and all the other bad stuff is far behind him, hopefully forever.
He said once, without the staff who are here for him 24/7 it would not be possible. He is happy, he is free, he can visit his sister and her family, his mother’s ashes are in the corner of his beautiful garden.
He wants to write his life’s story, he asked me, how to do it and would I help him.
I said, of course I will I am here to support you in everything, in all the good stuff you do. I gave him some plan and suggestions on how to start.
Today he wants to have a barbecue, it’s a special day for him.
We go to a shop, buy the smallest instant barbecue, I get lighting cubes and matches out of a safe in the staff room, I light the coal, discard the remaining ones after burgers and sausages are cooked and lock the cubes and matches away till the next time.
Then I make a cup of tea for him, fill the day-notes form in, tick all the boxes about anxiety levels, sleep patterns and how good the day was. I ask, how was your mood today on scale 1 to 10, when 1 is very good and 10 is very bad. He says, 1. It’s always 1, it never has been anything else since I am here.
Electric candles are peacefully flickering away.
The day has gone. Another good day for him.
I will help him to write his life’s story, so people realise how it is to have a burning desire, it’s not even a joke unfortunately, to do something that thrills you enormously but can seriously harm you and others, and the most importantly, to explore how and why those things start, why they happen.
I want to know and I would love to tell people. I will help him to tell his story. I am grateful to be able to help this beautiful and torched soul.
Maya (Maija) was born in Riga, capital of Latvia in Soviet times.
From early age she enjoyed reading, dancing, theatre and telling stories. Her mum was working as a bank clerk for all her life and her dad was a self-made artist. Maya has MA in Culture Work and Choreography from Latvia State Conservatoire.
Since 2001 Maya lives in UK with her family: partner and daughter. Here in UK she studied Theatre and Performance for a year and Playwriting. Currently Maya is a member of two writing groups: Reading The World and Just Write. Maya lives in Preston with her family and her 2 cats Betty and Tiggy. Several of her short stories are published, along with other local writers work, in two anthologies: Seasonal Shorts and Love Literally available on Amazon.
