Dance On My Grave by Aidan Chambers

Author:Aidan Chambers [Aidan Chambers]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: RHCP
Published: 1995-08-03T04:00:00+00:00

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1 For those who have yet the pleasures of Southend in store let me explain about the Ray, a most important feature of this watering place. At Southend the tide goes out a long way. Some people say it goes out all the way to the other side of the estuary. Be that as it may, when the tide is out an amusement often enjoyed by the resident locals, the younger of them especially, is to plodge through the gooey mud left behind by the receding waves until you reach, half a mile or so from shore, a deep, fast-flowing channel of water known on the maps with delicate felicity as the Ray Gut. Here only the brave and foolish swim, for the current is dangerously strong. Everyone cavorts on the comparatively sandy and hard Ray bank, having messy picnics or bottle parties (and, as you can imagine, much else besides) before trudging back through the sludge. Set off for home too late and you are likely to be trapped on the sandbank by the fast in-coming tide and be eventually drowned. So the jaunt is not without its frisson of danger. For a drunk to make the trip would therefore be unwise. But whoever heard of a wise drunk?

2 I said this to Ozzy. ‘Not such a fool,’ he said. ‘Tolkien grew rich on his fantasies.’ ‘A fool made rich by bigger fools,’ I said. He laughed. ‘There’s hope for you yet,’ he said. ‘But you’ve misjudged Tolkien, as time and greater wisdom will show you.’ Crunch.

3 I have not yet decided whether my mortal remains shall be buried or cremated. Some people of religious scruple hold strong objection to cremation and others to burial. So there is no answer in the multiple voices of God. Without such authoritative aid, I cannot decide whether I prefer to rot in the ground, providing food for worms and fertilizer for dandelions, or to be reduced to the aforesaid ashes and dispersed to the four winds. I guess it is some primordial instinct which sometimes makes me prefer burial so that at least my bones will stay together in case of any chance of future need, such as resurrection. But then I get a social conscience about being a nuisance. I mean, if everybody insisted on a six-by-four plot of ground to lie dead in, the country would very soon be covered in graves and become a vast cemetery. Apart from the sneaking suspicion I have that bodies rotting in the ground, however regulated and well-behaved, pose something of a threat to the already unpalatable water supply. All I can say is I hope I’ve made up my mind before I snuff it.

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