The exit was totally unexpected.
The vertiginous rush through a pipework of pulsing dark that seemed to caress every cell in her body, every spark of her soul, flushed her out in a huge tsunami of light into ... what? More light. Light that loved her. Light that invited the edgeless mind she had become to extend into it, fuse with it, disintegrate as a finite being into a dazzling infinity that was not just ineffable light but thought. The thought constantly waving through the light gave it form; she found that her own yearning met the love in the air and grew ideas, grew images that had their own life and swarmed to meet her. Her first baby - still-born and now beautiful, smiling. her beloved parents unbent, striding to meet and embrace her. The longing heart of the husband left behind warming her, willing her to live on. All the homes she had made with him and loved now rising around her to take her in and prepare her for the greatest adventure of all. She was making her heaven.
.............................................................................................................................................................
Alison opened her eyes. The cold light of an early November day chilled her room, hurrying her into warm clothes and down to a solitary breakfast. As she filled the kettle a wave of something intangible swept over her consciousness and she paused ... the vivid dreamscape of her sleep shocked her into an alien space removed from the morning routine. She remembered the light, the strange and lovely faces, the overwhelming joy of spiritual release. Was it her? But who were the strangers? What was the dark tunnel if not a journey through death? A car alarm broke into her reverie and she set about breakfast again feeling uneasy, but her thoughts now shifted to the day ahead and its lesson-plans.
By the time she had driven the five miles through difficult traffic, walked through the delight of rustling russet and pink leaf-litter from the car park to the school door, retrieved and binned a spent rocket or two and checked into the staff room, Alison had an idea for her class of six-year-olds after break.
She was ready for them as they tumbled in from the cold, their cheeks as pink as the fallen leaves.
“Alan, you don’t need your scarf on in here. The heating has been on all morning.”
“Julie, please empty your mouth. No not into your hand. Now you must go and wash. You have five minutes.”
“Children, please settle down now. We’re going to talk about something I thought about this morning, and then you can draw. So while we’re waiting for Julie, come and choose your colours and take a few sheets of paper.”
The usual bedlam - then Julie reappeared, dripping. Alison sighed, mopped small fingers with tissues, and rallied her troops.
“Right. This morning we are going to talk about ...”
... a clamour of brilliant ideas and uncontrollable giggles ...
“Tunnels. Who wants to tell me about tunnels? Dean?”
“ Trains go through tunnels.”
“Why do they have to go through tunnels? No, Lesley, I’m asking Dean.”
“ Because ... they can’t go up and down hills like cars can and have to go into hills and out the other side.”
“Very good. All right, Lesley.”
“Cars go through tunnels as well, we went through a HYOOGE tunnel when Daddy took us to Liverpool to see the ships!”
“Yes, that would be the Mersey Tunnel. It’s always very busy. Aren’t the ships beautiful? Anyone else?”
“Miss, Miss, my Dad played a video off the TV yesterday and it was about The Great Escape and it wasn’t actors, these men had to dig tunnels to get away from Germans in the war and all the sand kept falling in on them and they used up all the wood off their beds to keep the tunnels safe and they had rails and went along on trollies on their tummies and they didn’t have any spades so they used tins and they were all REALLY old now and some of them cried because their friends got away and then got caught and they didn’t and they really missed them and they kept finding things in this really big hole like buttons and one of the tins with writing on and Dad said stop asking questions and then Mum came in and she cried and they wouldn’t say why she was crying ...”
“Sam, even grownups cry sometimes, and it’s nothing to worry about. One day when you’re a bit bigger I’m sure they’ll explain. Sometimes even seeing something beautiful can make a grownup cry!”
“Daddy cried when he saw the big ships in Liverpool.”
“I’m sure he did, Lesley. I probably would too, What else do we know about tunnels?”
“I saw a film, Miss, with men all covered in black stuff going down into holes in the ground and then there were tunnels as well, and they were digging the walls and they had hardly any lights on...”
“Those were coal-miners, Susan. We used to burn coal to keep ourselves warm, but coal makes a lot of dirt, over our houses and gardens, and in the air, so we have electricity now, yes, and gas, which keep things quite clean. We’ll have a day soon when we can talk about how we make our electricity. Any more tunnels?”
“Moles make tunnels.”
“Well done, John! And other little creatures too, Have you heard of water-voles?”
A chorus of No! And one little Yes hidden in the noise ...
“Right. That’s one for Nature Week.”
“Miss, Miss, my Daddy calls canalowny little tunnels.”
Shrieks of laughter.
“ He’s quite right, Brian! That’s an Italian word ... a word that is used in Italy ... quite a long way away but maybe your family has been there on holiday? ... and it’s spelled C.A.N.N.E.L.L.O.N.I and it really does mean little tunnels.” More shrieks of merriment. “It’s a tube of pasta with lovely mixtures of food inside, and usually a nice creamy cheesy sauce all over it.”
“I’ve had that!” “So have I!”
“Any more tunnels, children?”
The room went quiet for a moment as little brows furrowed. Alison’s eye was drawn to the back by the dinosaur frieze - one little girl was hunched in her seat, looking into her lap, shoulders shaking almost impercepibly.
“Mary? Are you crying?”
Every eye in the room turned to the silently sobbing child.
“Mary. What is the matter?” Alison strode to the back of the room and knelt beside her. “What has upset you? Is it something we’ve said?”
“No Miss.”
“What has happened, then?”
“My ... my Nan’s died.”
“Oh Mary! I’m so sorry! Bless you, you have been so brave to come to school today. You could have stayed at home with Mummy and Daddy; they could have phoned us and let us know. Do you need to talk about it? Can I give you a hug? Would that help?”
“Yes please. Mummy and Daddy are very busy today because of my Nan dying. They made me come to school. I shan’t see her any more. They’re going to dig a hole at the cemetry and put her in the ground. I loved my Nan.”
Mary burst into loud sobs and buried her little dark head in Alison’s jumper.
“Come into the rest room with me, poppet; I’ll get a member of staff to look after the class for the rest of the lesson.”
Alison took Mary’s hand and led her into the peaceful little room at the other end of the corridor. They sat down together on the edge of the bed.
“Mary, let me tell you about the most wonderful dream I had last night...”
.............................................................................................................................................................
The vertiginous rush through a pipework of pulsing dark that seemed to caress every cell in her body, every spark of her soul, flushed her out in a huge tsunami of light into ... what? More light. Light that loved her. Light that invited the edgeless mind she had become to extend into it, fuse with it, disintegrate as a finite being into a dazzling infinity that was not just ineffable light but thought. The thought constantly waving through the light gave it form; she found that her own yearning met the love in the air and grew ideas, grew images that had their own life and swarmed to meet her. Her first baby - still-born and now beautiful, smiling. her beloved parents unbent, striding to meet and embrace her. The longing heart of the husband left behind warming her, willing her to live on. All the homes she had made with him and loved now rising around her to take her in and prepare her for the greatest adventure of all. She was making her heaven.
.............................................................................................................................................................
Alison opened her eyes. The cold light of an early November day chilled her room, hurrying her into warm clothes and down to a solitary breakfast. As she filled the kettle a wave of something intangible swept over her consciousness and she paused ... the vivid dreamscape of her sleep shocked her into an alien space removed from the morning routine. She remembered the light, the strange and lovely faces, the overwhelming joy of spiritual release. Was it her? But who were the strangers? What was the dark tunnel if not a journey through death? A car alarm broke into her reverie and she set about breakfast again feeling uneasy, but her thoughts now shifted to the day ahead and its lesson-plans.
By the time she had driven the five miles through difficult traffic, walked through the delight of rustling russet and pink leaf-litter from the car park to the school door, retrieved and binned a spent rocket or two and checked into the staff room, Alison had an idea for her class of six-year-olds after break.
She was ready for them as they tumbled in from the cold, their cheeks as pink as the fallen leaves.
“Alan, you don’t need your scarf on in here. The heating has been on all morning.”
“Julie, please empty your mouth. No not into your hand. Now you must go and wash. You have five minutes.”
“Children, please settle down now. We’re going to talk about something I thought about this morning, and then you can draw. So while we’re waiting for Julie, come and choose your colours and take a few sheets of paper.”
The usual bedlam - then Julie reappeared, dripping. Alison sighed, mopped small fingers with tissues, and rallied her troops.
“Right. This morning we are going to talk about ...”
... a clamour of brilliant ideas and uncontrollable giggles ...
“Tunnels. Who wants to tell me about tunnels? Dean?”
“ Trains go through tunnels.”
“Why do they have to go through tunnels? No, Lesley, I’m asking Dean.”
“ Because ... they can’t go up and down hills like cars can and have to go into hills and out the other side.”
“Very good. All right, Lesley.”
“Cars go through tunnels as well, we went through a HYOOGE tunnel when Daddy took us to Liverpool to see the ships!”
“Yes, that would be the Mersey Tunnel. It’s always very busy. Aren’t the ships beautiful? Anyone else?”
“Miss, Miss, my Dad played a video off the TV yesterday and it was about The Great Escape and it wasn’t actors, these men had to dig tunnels to get away from Germans in the war and all the sand kept falling in on them and they used up all the wood off their beds to keep the tunnels safe and they had rails and went along on trollies on their tummies and they didn’t have any spades so they used tins and they were all REALLY old now and some of them cried because their friends got away and then got caught and they didn’t and they really missed them and they kept finding things in this really big hole like buttons and one of the tins with writing on and Dad said stop asking questions and then Mum came in and she cried and they wouldn’t say why she was crying ...”
“Sam, even grownups cry sometimes, and it’s nothing to worry about. One day when you’re a bit bigger I’m sure they’ll explain. Sometimes even seeing something beautiful can make a grownup cry!”
“Daddy cried when he saw the big ships in Liverpool.”
“I’m sure he did, Lesley. I probably would too, What else do we know about tunnels?”
“I saw a film, Miss, with men all covered in black stuff going down into holes in the ground and then there were tunnels as well, and they were digging the walls and they had hardly any lights on...”
“Those were coal-miners, Susan. We used to burn coal to keep ourselves warm, but coal makes a lot of dirt, over our houses and gardens, and in the air, so we have electricity now, yes, and gas, which keep things quite clean. We’ll have a day soon when we can talk about how we make our electricity. Any more tunnels?”
“Moles make tunnels.”
“Well done, John! And other little creatures too, Have you heard of water-voles?”
A chorus of No! And one little Yes hidden in the noise ...
“Right. That’s one for Nature Week.”
“Miss, Miss, my Daddy calls canalowny little tunnels.”
Shrieks of laughter.
“ He’s quite right, Brian! That’s an Italian word ... a word that is used in Italy ... quite a long way away but maybe your family has been there on holiday? ... and it’s spelled C.A.N.N.E.L.L.O.N.I and it really does mean little tunnels.” More shrieks of merriment. “It’s a tube of pasta with lovely mixtures of food inside, and usually a nice creamy cheesy sauce all over it.”
“I’ve had that!” “So have I!”
“Any more tunnels, children?”
The room went quiet for a moment as little brows furrowed. Alison’s eye was drawn to the back by the dinosaur frieze - one little girl was hunched in her seat, looking into her lap, shoulders shaking almost impercepibly.
“Mary? Are you crying?”
Every eye in the room turned to the silently sobbing child.
“Mary. What is the matter?” Alison strode to the back of the room and knelt beside her. “What has upset you? Is it something we’ve said?”
“No Miss.”
“What has happened, then?”
“My ... my Nan’s died.”
“Oh Mary! I’m so sorry! Bless you, you have been so brave to come to school today. You could have stayed at home with Mummy and Daddy; they could have phoned us and let us know. Do you need to talk about it? Can I give you a hug? Would that help?”
“Yes please. Mummy and Daddy are very busy today because of my Nan dying. They made me come to school. I shan’t see her any more. They’re going to dig a hole at the cemetry and put her in the ground. I loved my Nan.”
Mary burst into loud sobs and buried her little dark head in Alison’s jumper.
“Come into the rest room with me, poppet; I’ll get a member of staff to look after the class for the rest of the lesson.”
Alison took Mary’s hand and led her into the peaceful little room at the other end of the corridor. They sat down together on the edge of the bed.
“Mary, let me tell you about the most wonderful dream I had last night...”
.............................................................................................................................................................