The motorway

There once was a clearing in the heart of an ancient forest. Lush leaves with pools of rain droplets stuck, and then fall onto walkers like a broken showerhead washes the rugged early morning. Many a camper, mountain bike or guide rope to navigate on the journey to the brick built washing facilities, in the southern countryside. All for a taste of the outdoors, and many a car and caravan!

Joshua Smith was 10 years old, and was a free spirit. He had diamond blue eyes, dark brown hair and an immense love for sport and games. However, in the first ten years of his life he loved to try out any kind of new venture. Above all, he wanted to one day be happy and be part of a large family of Smiths, with new members being added along the way. Josh's dad, Jonathan, would drive a red saloon car with a caravan to the south coast with all the family on board. There were 10 people on the holiday. This included the Smith Family, the Jonas family and the West family, who had a friendship that originated between the parents of both. The Smith family included Jonathan, Patricia, Marty and Josh. The Jonas Family was Sophie, Alex and Jacob. George West and his dad Peter were very keen on football, and watched most of the Maybury Town home and away matches. Jacob, George, Marty and Josh were all very good friends from a young age. Peter West and Jonathan Smith were close friends from previous employment.

The Smith family had a large caravan which Jonathan, Patricia and Josh all stayed in. A side tent was attached to this which Marty stayed in. The Jonas family had a large, network style tent with three bedroom compartments, a communal area and an added pantry. George and his dad were staying in a less privileged two man tent.

Marty was 14 at the time of a particular summer holiday in 1990, with short curly hair and a love of adventures on bikes and by foot. Often he would stay out in the middle of the forest through the night in man-made shelters, and on those evenings he and his friends would light fires and stoves for cooking their favourite breakfasts and snacks from nearby shops. In these times, they really just wanted to enjoy themselves as they were away from their normal daily routines.

The holiday period was now in late August. The younger members of the family, and the children of family friends with whom they learnt the branches to hang onto whilst riding into the dark green regions, were to go back to normal life. They were to face schools of every kind, in a bleak and beautiful world. The children had also spent the holiday bike riding, through a vast network of sandy tracks, when they weren't playing ball games of all kinds in the warm southern sunshine. The parents had done quite the opposite, playing games and completing crosswords, on camping chairs, around the gas stove and barbeques. This was the format of the holiday season for the family and friends which happened every year.

Often, in the extended light of summer evenings after enjoying the day however they wished, the adults would sit around with drinks and talk about the previous year and the hopes of the year to come.

'George and Jacob would make very good full-backs!' Peter says with a large beer in one hand whilst the five parents sat around, 'They're very close, and I think it's important that they stay with Josh at school.'

'I think you're right Pete.' replied Jonathan, 'But it was all about rugby in our day. Having said that, I think Maybury Town could do with a bit of shoring up at the back!'

'The only sport I wanted to play at school was Hockey!' interrupted Sophie, 'It's funny how this was what they encouraged the girls to play, but it was at least equally as dangerous as the sports which the boys played'.

Patricia jokingly replied 'I couldn't play any of them. There's no point talking to me about sport!'

Someway through this particular vacation, that lasted two weeks as each year it typically would, 10 year old Josh and his brother Marty were cycling along the sandy tracks through the lush forest. Josh was suddenly stopped in his tracks as the bike treads stuck in the sandy dunes. 'Look Marty! What is that in the trees there?' The forest was a young boys dream. Sometimes the cycle tracks dipped into valleys of sandy ground, which had gradually subsided over the centuries and had thorny and spreading plants which intruded, obstructing twisting front bicycle wheels. Tree roots arched, part way along their spread, above the compacted sand occasionally mixed with scorched and stubby grass which provided civilizations for large insects and micro life. These roots were like obstacles for narrow lightweight frames where riders would maintain balance during navigation. Children, and indeed adults, would trip over these whilst hiking through the woods before finding an appropriate stopping point for a pre-packed sandwich and cup of tea from a flask.

Marty skid his front wheel and put his right leg down on the grassy path edge. Marty and Josh walked towards what seemed to be a small, brick built, outhouse with an arched door. It sat in amongst 3 or 4 large pine trees, lopped sided and sank into the jungle-like forest surface. The two of them slowly and cautiously walked towards the outhouse, close enough to just about see the inside. What appeared strange to Marty, and Josh, was that this structure was still in-tact but lopped sided.

'Must be part of some kind of old fort, or ruin or something.' said Marty dismissively, 'I think we need to get back to the camp now for dinner'.

Josh had a very unique outlook on life. He had an inquisitive mind and an awareness of everything that was going on around him, indeed in the lives of those he knew. So this building, found amongst the vast and dense forest, was something that he pondered over for the rest of the holiday. The two of them returned to the camp, and enjoyed the rest of the two weeks.

On the final day of the holiday, Josh and his dad were to travel back in the red saloon, whilst Marty and his mum were to go with Sophie and Alex, and stay in their house further up north. Alex was a tall, slim man with long brown hair that covered his ears, and large, brown rimmed reading glasses. Sophie was a pretty woman of medium height, in comparison to the tall figure of Alex, and had blonde hair that was in a bun at the back and in a fringe at the front. They were a very pleasant couple, of mid to late fifties. Alex would often play Josh at various sports, including water volley ball and bar room games on the campsite, whilst they all enjoyed the shafts of golden summer. Sophie loved baking, and would often bring a variety of cakes, buns and anything lovingly prepared to special occasions for the wide circle of friends. Sophie and Joshua's mother Patricia were both very good friends.

'Have a safe journey you boys!' said the mother to the father and son, on their last day. Josh's mother, Patricia, had wavy blonde hair, with pretty green eyes and a slightly aged face. Josh's dad, Jonathan, was a tall man, with brown eyes, black hair and a short-shaven beard and moustache. Patricia was a wonderful mother to Josh and his older brother Marty.

Josh and Jonathan were to travel through the night, with Josh laid down on the back seat of the red saloon. The brown haired young man, with a polo neck shirt and summer shorts, felt safe and that the future would be what his dreams told him. Away they went, back to the regular cold northern surroundings.

The road was long, lit by walls of mixed, faded and fixed halogen light. It was early in the morning, and deep into the obscured darkness, an untimely separation and beginning. Awoken by a shudder, Josh's first words were 'Dad?'

"You're alright kid. Everything is going to be fine." Jonathan said in a tone of reassurance. Josh looked between the driver and passenger seats. To Josh the cushion and blankets, as well as the padded seats, felt almost like the inner wall of a soft capsule that shielded them both. This story has moments, like this, where life seems to be balanced like a large box on a guitar string. At the end of the story, Josh can explain that it was in these moments where he went into a dark room, within himself, and closed his eyes. From the darkness, within darkness, he could just about make out a faded golden light that was always in the distance. He didn't know what this was. It was a mysterious glint in the eye of the despairing and desolate void.

After the initial utterance, of 'Dad', Josh felt safe. Jonathan watched. The car and caravan were lost and the two inside were shook up but unharmed. The 'main thing', as the ambulance driver put it, remained undamaged for those in the medium sized Ford Mondeo.

This is a story of how courage and perseverance can bring a young man, woman or indeed anyone through that which might seem impossible at the time. Sometimes a situation can fill the heart with dread that requires a search for a light that glimmers in the black crevasses of the now and beyond.