Solitude

Everyone at some stage in life needs those solitary moments where you can gather your thoughts and relax without distraction. It is essential to a person’s make up.

Marty Johnson was no different.

He was a divorced father of four children and although he did not want his marriage to end, he told everyone it was by mutual consent. He took the positives from it and saw it as a way of finding time for himself and developing his character and ambitions, which had stayed stagnant for many years. This was an opportunity for freedom and possibilities, new hobbies or new adventures.

He had recently moved into a rented flat, sharing the kitchen and lounge with another tenant. This, he thought, was a reasonable compromise and one which would hopefully give him some solitude without breaking the bank financially.

And what he craved more than anything was solitude.

Marty’s hopes were dented quite quickly.

Once settled in his room, he realised that finding solitude would not be easy. He heard the constant sound of music being played by his flatmate at all hours and although not offensively loud, it was enough to be irritating at least.

When the music was not playing, his flatmate wanted to be entertained and expected Marty to go drinking with him or gambling at the casino or watching sport on TV.

It was enough to make Marty want to go to work because at least then he had a commute where he could read and gather his thoughts.

Train journeys can be peaceful, tranquil times enabling a person to read or be creative.

Marty loved looking at nature.

He felt buoyed.

Unfortunately, this did not materialise as he was befriended by a group of office workers travelling on his train. He was also an accountant and this meant spending all day in a busy office talking about numbers. This avenue was now closed. He found the travel companions friendly but his space was again invaded.

Marty and his plan for solitude had hit a stumbling block. So he came up with a solution. He would agree to be sociable with friends and colleagues two weekends a month which gave him the other weekends to find calm and contentment. It would be his time. He planned to go to places where no one knew him, going to pubs where he could fade into the background.

But a phone call from his ex wife would change all that. The new arrangement meant that he would have the children at least two weekends a month. This was another piece being chiselled away from him. The initial emotions of optimism were slowly eroding to just hope. Each time his plans were scuppered was like a dagger in his heart.

Of course he loved having his children, it just meant that he would have to try harder to find time for himself on the other weekends but this would mean putting off his friends, which would not be easy. They were good people but draining at times. Marty knew that this option would bring tension between them and he did not want this.

He was becoming despondent because he expected being single to be freedom but alas it was not proving to be the case. He wanted to enjoy reading again and being creative or perhaps starting a new hobby. This could not be done at the flat especially since his flatmate’s girlfriend was practically now living there.

He had moments of elation when he would feel he could be free and enjoy who he was but when it became inevitable that this would not happen, he lost a little of his soul. He knew that there were parts of his character and interests that he wanted to develop. This had not been possible for most of his life because of work and family commitments.

This was his opportunity to find space when he could enjoy a new activity. Marty was not going down without a fight. He was determined to find the time.

There was a park just a few minutes away. Here he could find a peaceful corner, read and enjoy nature. This excited him. Marty could go after work every evening and as he thought about it, suggested to himself that there was no time like the present.

As he trotted down the road, book in hand, he was jubilant again at the prospect of peace and tranquillity. He also had developed an interest in studying birds as a hobby and this was the perfect place to take pictures and study nature. He had begun noting in his pad different species of birds and trees and researching them.

The park was bathed in sunshine and Marty made himself comfortable under an old willow tree. But alas he had barely opened his book before a dog came bounding over to sniff him. The owner soon followed.

“Lovely day out here. Perfect spot you have chosen. That tree has been there…”

Marty was a nature lover and told the man that he knew about such a tree’s history. He was pleasant but made it obvious he did not want to talk about something he had knowledge of. But the man was persistent and turned his attention to his dog and the trouble he was having after a recent operation.

Half an hour later Marty forlornly walked out of the park back to his flat where a drinking game was in progress with his flatmate and friends. Marty sat on his bed and began to cry. He just wanted to get to know Marty Johnson.

His emotions were flitting between hope, anger and despair. Unfortunately the hope was fading. The constant noises in his life were causing depression. Marty tried to put them in perspective. The flat was a constant level of activity and noise regardless of how low it sometimes was. Work was noisy and frantic. Every weekend with the children was hectic. His social life was busy. The park had lost its appeal because of its intrusions.

Although in despair and desperate for quiet solitude, Marty had one last plan. He would go to the library where surely quiet was guaranteed and stop off at the coffee shop on the way. This could be his new oasis.

Marty headed one Saturday morning to his local library hopeful and optimistic. He wanted to find some books for ideas on a holiday adventure. The library, he realised, was the safest place to go.

On entering and sitting at a desk on his own, he sighed in contentment. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a young child begin crawling across the desk. Marty edged away but unfortunately was caught like a fly in a spider’s web.

“What are you doing?”

Marty knew he meant no harm and although seething, kept his emotions in check.

“Oh! Just doodling.”

“Can I doodle too?”

Marty had always doodled as a child and found moments at work to draw nonsense pictures with the pencil he always had attached to his accountant’s pad. It had been one of his ambitions to be an artist. He looked up at the child and sighed as his mother approached.

“Charlie, I told you to leave people alone. I’m sorry but he has ADHD. He’s a good boy really. In fact, would you just keep an eye on him whilst I look for a book to keep him quiet?”

Half an hour later Marty left the library with no books and a child’s screaming still ringing in his ear. He fell into the coffee shop exhausted and spotted an empty table in the corner.

This was it, he thought. All the other customers were busy in conversation. Here, Marty would be left alone. He darted to the table and sat down, exhaling a satisfied sigh of relief. He ordered and sat down. Was this his moment? Could he finally find solitude?

Two minutes later a man who had been at the front of the shop approached and started doing magic tricks on him. He already had his mobile phone so Marty was trapped. The man was insistent and assumed Marty would be entertained by him.

Marty cried.

Sometime later he left the coffee shop and headed to the loudest pub he could find. Marty Johnson was defeated. Solitude was not possible to find.

He drank.

He thought about the very rare moments he had been alone during his life. His life had been hectic with four children in the house. He had often taken them camping to escape. Escape meant so much to Marty now. He wanted to run away to a distant beach.

Alone and at peace.

His dreams were thwarted by a pint of beer being spilt on him by a rowdy group of football fans. But Marty didn’t care now. He had given up. But then his mind turned back to camping.

Maybe just maybe that could answer his prayers.