The Last Samurai

Well actually it’s for my two little brothers. Siamese twins, they were inseparable from birth and did everything together. If one does something the other must too, but unfortunately their heads are inconveniently placed so that they cannot watch the same television screen at the same time. We tried mirrors but then whichever one got the mirror complained. A disability allowance from a generous government has covered the cost of an extra television and video set, a single copy of Aladdin, and one towel. One night The Importance of Being Earnest in the classic Redgrave/Denison production was shown by the BBC; both twins were able to watch, enthralled. Unfortunately my mother did not have two videotapes on which to record the film—foreseeing trouble, she did not record it at all! To no avail, for having seen it once they must see it again—and a pair of Siamese twins, once enraged, makes a noise which cannot easily be ignored. In despair did my mother venture forth to our local Blockbuster, only to find that they had but a single copy of the film. Fear not, said I, I will go to Notting Hill and get a second copy of the film; they have few enough pleasures as it is, God knows, and my mother agreed, for she was certain that Blockbuster would not let us down.

She said

Why didn’t you say so before

I said

You didn’t ask me before

I set off at my five-minute-mile sprint.

I went up to the front door again and knocked. He came to the door straight away.

He said

I’m sorry, I should have given you some money.

I said that was all right. He looked brighter than he had before. He led me down a hall to a room at the back of the house where they kept the TV and VCR. He had put some crisps in a bowl and some peanuts in another bowl.

I turned on the TV and VCR and put the film in. There were some ads for the Classic Collection and then the film began.

He sat in his chair watching the screen very seriously. He laughed when Lady Bracknell said Should you become engaged I, or your father if his health permits, will inform you of the fact and he laughed at some of the other jokes. After a while I forgot about him.

After a while I looked over to see whether he was enjoying the film.

He had turned his head to one side. His cheeks were wet.

He said

This isn’t going to work.

I turned off the video and pressed rewind.

He said

It’s not going to work and I haven’t got a lot of time. They’re only going for a few days. It was worth a try though.

He said

This has helped in a way, anyway. I’ve some letters to write. I didn’t think I’d be able to because I think the important thing is to say I love them and I find it quite hard to say that because I’ve really only felt anything for the dog since I got back. I’ve said it of course but there’s something that won’t let me make a lie my last word. I think I can live with a penultimate lie. Whereas it can’t hurt you to hear the truth.

He said

This will probably take some time. You can go or stay as you like.

I said I would stay if that was all right.

I followed him upstairs to his desk. He sat down and got out several sheets of paper and wrote Dear Marie.

I went to sit in a chair. I took out Thucydides and began to read the stasis at Corcyra.

A couple of hours went by. I got up and went to the desk; he was looking down at a sheet of paper on which were written the words Dear Marie.

He said

It’s just an accident it turned out this way. I was in Beirut for a long time, but a lot of people were there a long time. Sometimes you think you’ll go berserk watching the it’s frustrating but there’s a lot to do. You spend so much time trying to organise transportation to some place where you hear something’s going on, or trying to make contacts, or trying to anyway you’re always pretty busy, even so it gets to you but then you all get drunk and talk. Once I was caught there was absolutely nothing to do but think. Lie on the floor thinking will Clinton do this will the UN do that without the distraction of if I talk to this person about that jeep. It’s stupid. If I’d gone out and got drunk with some mates before I left it probably wouldn’t have or at least it would always have been but at least it wouldn’t have been anyway other people seem to adjust insofar as you can adjust and I would probably have adjusted.

He said

maladjusted by a simple twist of fate. It’s hard to know what to write.

He said

Is it patronising to say what you think someone would like you to be able to say? Or should I say

He said

You know what I’d really like?

I said

Apart from the obvious

He said

Cheeky bastard aren’t you—sorry.

I said

What?

Then I said Oh. I said It doesn’t matter. What would you really like?

He said:

I’d like some fish and chips. Would you like some fish and chips? Why don’t we go out and get some fish and chips and I’ll finish this when we get back.

I thought this might be a good sign, maybe it was an excuse to put off doing it, maybe he would realise he was making excuses and didn’t really want to do it.