THE TADPOLES ON THE PAGE

This story was read at a meeting of Rayleigh Writers in Rayleigh Library on 14 March 2019. The first paragraph was written in response to concerns that some stories previously read in the library were unsuitable for children likely to overhear them.                    

THE TADPOLES ON THE PAGE

by Richard Banks

             

Before I properly begin I wish to make clear that this is a nice story. Unlike other stories you may hear this afternoon it contains nothing that will offend those of tender years or sheltered upbringing. It has been constructed from only the nicest words and I have endeavoured to arrange these in an order that is not only logical but fully accords with grammatical principles. It is also an improving sort of story that, while very dull in the reading, will avoid and indeed discourage the arousal of unseemly emotions. I want you to know that you are in a safe place, a place so far unvisited by a single apostrophe and, although they have yet to arrive, when they do they will in no way distract the text from its determination not to offend.

         However, their importance can not, and should not, be underestimated; they bring order, dispel doubt and are the pretext, if not the inspiration, for the feeble tale that follows. But first of all, a joke. Never date an apostrophe. Yes, I know that’s an absurd notion but there are people who care passionately for them and are dedicated to their well being. There is even an Apostrophe Protection Society. But enough of that, I don’t want you stirred up so let’s return to the joke which, if it is to work, must be spoken by an apostrophe, who says, “I will never date another apostrophe the last one was too possessive.” Yes, I agree it isn’t very funny, but as the undeniable function of many apostrophes is to be possessive this underwhelming attempt at humour, unlike some other jokes, won’t cause offence. If you can’t raise a smile at least avoid a snarl.

         By the way, did you notice that the first apostrophe arrived a few lines ago; it has since been joined by five others. Like the library visitors of my distant youth, they have come silently, without fuss, determined to abide by the rules. But the rules have changed I tell them. The sound of their voices will no longer be censored by the stern shushing of the librarian; they can now talk as loudly as they wish on any subject related or unrelated to the books that line the library shelves.

         The apostrophes listen to me, patiently, without interruption, but will not be distracted from their mission which has been set down in learned books of grammar. There is nothing in these which says that apostrophes should talk and until one is written which says that they must they will remain silent adjuncts of the written word.

         On reflection, this is probably just as well. There is only so much they can say about their literary functions and having said it they would be bound to move onto other subjects on which they are less informed. I mean, what would an apostrophe within a history of the Hundred Years War have to say about our modern day relationship with France?  Or, what would an apostrophe in a cookery book be likely to contribute to a discussion on ethical food policy or Government subsidies to the farming industry. The unintended repercussions might be more numerous than for Brexit, and as we are struggling to cope with that, it is as well that the apostrophes stick to what they know best.

         Indeed, no one understands their role in life better than an apostrophe and if they were allowed to organise themselves the errors and omissions presently besetting them and the reader would henceforth cease to exist.  I therefore, beseech you to support the Apostrophe Liberation Front in their campaign to confer on them self governing status free of human control. The need for this reform is well illustrated by the misadventures of Dr Stephen De’ath, a general practitioner on the Caribbean island of St Lucia.

         By the way, this is where the story I promised you six paragraphs ago begins. It is an eventful narrative but one likely to be short in the telling, so please don’t fall asleep or lose concentration for it will soon be over.

         Even before the events, I am about to relate Dr De’ath was acutely aware that apostrophes had already played a significant part in his life. Had it not been for the one between the e and a of his surname, he would have been Dr Death, an unfortunate name most worrying to patients likely to conclude that the rival practice of Dr Smiles offered more satisfactory outcomes.

         If Dr De’ath considered that apostrophes were only important in the writing of his name the events of August 2015 were to prove that they could literally be the difference between life and death.

         On the fifteenth of August Hurricane Mavis changed course in the Atlantic Ocean and set off towards St Lucia with a malevolence not normally associated with that name. The news was duly reported in the St Lucia Herald which, in the stop press of its evening edition, reported that ‘the storms devastating winds’ were expected to arrive the following morning. Dr De’ath and his wife therefore removed themselves to the depths of their cellar intending to stay there until all possibility of danger had passed.

         At 8am they arose from the camp bed on which they had been sleeping to find that the violent winds of the hurricane could no longer be heard. Returning to the rooms above them they were relieved to find the wind abated and the sky a cloudless blue. Encouraged that all might be well they immediately went out into their long back garden where an inspection of the house revealed only minor damage to its roof and walls. They were in the process of righting a Wendy house in which Dr De’ath kept his gardening tools when the weather took an unexpected turn for the worse and the storm suddenly returned with all its former violence. Realising that the wind was too strong for them to get back to the house they instead sought shelter in the Wendy house which, almost immediately, was lifted high into the sky and blown far away from land. As the winds again slackened it dropped down into the shallow waters surrounding an uninhabited island. Although the Wendy house broke up on impact with sea and sand the De’aths were virtually unscathed and waded ashore onto a wide beach of white sand, which, in normal circumstances, would have been very much to their liking.

         It had all ended safely but would never have happened in the first place had it not been for the missing apostrophe in the stop press of the St Lucia Herald. Its warning of, the storms devastating winds, contained not a single apostrophe whereas the insertion of one beyond the second ‘s’ in storms would have told Dr De’ath that two storms rather than one were on their way.

         During the becalmed, sun drenched days that followed, Dr De’ath gave much thought to  their rescue and return to St Lucia. Reasoning that helicopters and spotter planes would be out looking for them and other victims of the storms he endeavoured to signal their presence by scrawling in the sand the following message: We’re here. At least that’s what he meant to write but by omitting the apostrophe within We’re the message as written was, Were here. Unsurprisingly the pilots overflying the small island concluded that the person or persons leaving the message had departed and that the search for survivors should continue elsewhere.

         Sadly for the De’aths eighteen months were to pass before a holidaying yachtsman spotted them and alerted the Coastguard who finally returned them to St Lucia. Regrettably, their homecoming was not the happy event that it should have been. Dr De’ath’s practice had been irreparably damaged by the departure of his patients to Dr Smiles, while his house was occupied by unrelated persons who had purchased it from the beneficiary of Dr De’ath’s will. Despairing that neither situation was likely to be resolved for several years or more De’ath moved to America where he dedicated himself to the liberation of apostrophes from the tyranny and misuse of their human oppressors. Indeed it was he who founded the Apostrophe Liberation Front which now has over fifteen million paid-up members.

         Due to its lobbying, August 16^th – the date on which the De’aths were blown out to sea – has been designated International Apostrophe Day. On that day later this year Alf, as the organisation is affectionately known, will be opening its first UK office in Knightsbridge, on the ground floor of Dr De’ath’s London mansion. Your support is essential to its success. Please send your application for membership, plus an initial payment of £25 to: Richard Banks, C/O Rayleigh Library, Rayleigh, Essex. Like Dr De’ath he has come to understand that the value of apostrophes goes far beyond their literary functions. As the proverb goes, ‘It’s an ill wind that blows no one good’. Get writing those cheques!

 Copyright Richard Banks