Deary me ! What kinda camera’s this ? Lens all blurred, buttons is all stiff, It’s been goin’ for about two minutes and the batteries is dead ! Sorry, don’t mind me . Just a crooked ole man I’s am. Can’t help rantin’ on about cameras. Bloomin’ things. It’s me job you see, No, not rantin’ you dumb nut! Fixin’ the damn things! But I’s didn’t used fix them. No, I’s was an explorer. Always travlin’ you see. Went to the best place on the flippin’ planet. Antartica. But those days is gone.
For now I’m stuck in this sorta’ ‘ouse. Mosta’ the wood’s all rot ‘n’ that and I’s ‘ate it, but I’s ‘ave to stay here whethers I’s like it ors not. Can’t afford no place else. It’s on a tilt ‘cos it weren’t built proper ’n’ it’s a bit mossy ‘n’ damp. There’s two rooms. One’s a bedroom others a kitchen. Bedroom’s a blanket ons the floor. Kitchen’s a fireplace for cooking purposes and a stool. Oh yeah, ‘n’ me shed’s the workshop wheres I fix the cameras. By the way, me names Tom. Tom Will. It’s up to you, yous can call me Tom ors Will. Entiresly your decision. Me mother used to says it’s best to haves two names just in case one gets lost.
Befores I’s came ‘ere I’s used to work fors a research company. We’s specialized in the bestest bird ofs them all. The Emperor Penguin ! Nofin’ quite like them. I’s love all penguins, but there’s somthin’ special about those Emperors. Somethin’ I’s can’t quite describe. They live in the coldest place in the planet, Antartica, which just so ‘appens to be the best place on the planet too and I’s loved our visits.
On my first visit, afters I hads counted them up, we’s went to weighs ‘n’ measure the little ins, the chicks ye know, to checks theys were healthy ‘n that. One little mite howevers just didn’t want to be weighed so’s in the end we went to find another, but as soon as we’s turned our backs it jumped on the scales! I’s mean it, it really did. That chick followed us everywhere, even tried to get into our tents and when we’s ‘ad to leave he squawked like crazy. On me second trip the following year he was waiting for us, justs a few metres from our plane. I’s waved ‘ello and he squawed enthusiastically, just like before. Afters that we’s named him Squeak. We’s kept visiting year on year and by our twelfth visit, Squeak was almost an adult.
Unlucky thirteen, I suppose. The Ross Bay was almost unrecognisable There was’oles ‘n’ crevasses lager than our planes put together. Chasms lay just waiting to swallow us up. Buts worst of all was the penguins. Somes had fallen down inescapable ditches, others ‘ad frozen to the ice. Most of um had just given up all ‘ope. As we’s came in to land, I looked around for him but there was not a trace of Squeak anywhere. I’s searched as much of’s the stable ice as I’s could but’s it looked like the antartic had, gots it’s way once again. Then I stopped. I’s knew it was Squeak as soon as I laid eyes on ‘im. His belly frozen to the ice. But not squawking this time. Squeak was dead.
That was me last visit though I’m afraid. I bought this wreck of an ‘ouse and began fixing cameras for a livin’, blummin things. Take a look at this! Lense is cracked, screws is all rusted and no batteries. Sorry, just an old man I’s is. Can’t ‘elp rantin’. It’s me job ye see. No, not fixin’ the damn things, I’s is an explorer and don’t you forget it.
Just an Old Man
by Ailsa Critten