Juke-box Judy
by Angus Shoor Caan
Genre: Drama
Swearwords: None.
Description: One good turn deserves another.........however long it might take.
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Judy wasn't well. Truth be told she had never been well but by the age of five she had become somewhat used to it. Punch, real name Jack, her older brother by almost three years, cottoned on quickly to the severity of her illness and was very protective towards her.
Rickets, in the late-fifties, didn't have much going for it in the way of research and the treatments were crude to say the least. Judy succumbed to the doctors and specialists' frequent insistence in prodding, weighing, probing and x-raying of her tiny frame to the point where she thought it was quite normal, and besides, a trip to the hospital was a day out.
Tablets and injections didn't seem to help much, but Judy was quick to catch on to the fact that direct sunlight did, the warm, late spring weather enabling her to sit on the bench outside her Granny's house in just her shorts and sloppy-joe and almost feel stronger. That's where she heard the music for the first time.
It came from the café three doors away at the corner of the street; the same café that always had motorbikes parked outside.
That same night, Judy managed to walk all the way round to the swimming pool to pick up Punch from his lesson without her dad having to carry her. Punch and her parents made a big fuss of her for this achievement.
On rainy days, Judy and her Granny listened to the radio until Granny nodded off to sleep, sometimes in mid-knit. Then, Judy would sit at the window and watch as the Clyde Coast buses either filled up with passengers or spewed them out onto the pavement; the radio in the background being unable to hold much of her attention, mostly a lot of boring people talking about something boring. At least her Granny told interesting stories when she was awake and knitting, inviting her to join in and only shushing her whenever the news came on.
Weekends were spent with her parents, and Punch of course. Weekends and holidays were her school time for the fact that she wasn't allowed to go to school because of her soft bones, and for the fact that both of her parents were teachers. Punch sat in on her lessons sometimes, too, despite having been at school all week.
Granny was fast asleep, snoring gently with her knitting on her knee. Judy took one last glance through the window at her then headed for the steps, three of them. She bounced down them on her bum, much like she did with the stairs at home. She knew not to cross the busy road but she also knew she didn't have to. She stuck to the inside of the pavement and made it beyond the chip shop to the café without catching any harm. She gazed inside at the juke-box with its flashing lights and recognised it as the source of the music she had been hearing on the wind. When her legs got tired she sat under the window and faced the sun; the summer was on its way. She must have drifted off.
“Are you OK little girl?” asked whatever it was that had completely blocked out the sun.
“I'm.......I'm listening to the music,” stammered Judy, squinting upwards to see a huge man with an enormous red beard looming over her. “I'm.....I'm.....I'm not doing something wrong, am I?”
“Not at all,” said the man, “It's just that you've been there for a long time.”
“Maybe I'd better get back to Granny's house,” she said, using the window sill to get to her feet, “she'll be wondering where I am.”
The man sat on his motorbike and watched as she hugged the inside wall, finally disappearing through the gate of her Granny's house. Granny was still fast asleep but showing signs of stirring, so Judy stuck her nose in one of Punch's old comics.
It rained all the next day but the day after that was warm and bright. Judy made her way to the café just as fast as her little legs would take her, plonking herself down as soon as she reached the window, well, after checking the juke-box was still there in its corner since she hadn't heard it so far that day. She laughed when the same big man from before stepped off his bike and the frame rose about a foot in the air when relieved of his weight.
“Will you make the music play?” she pleaded, before he could ask what she was laughing at.
“What would you like to hear, little girl?”
“My name's Judy,” she told him, almost folding her arms across her chest in defiance before remembering how it had hurt the last time she tried it. “I just want to hear some music.”
The man went inside and Judy stopped herself from scrambling to her feet to see if he would do it, smiling as the first bars of the music hit her ears, then smiling wider when the window above her head partly opened, making the music sound even louder. Five minutes later, the man came back out and sat down beside her, offering her a bottle of Coke with a straw in it. “My name's Spanner,” he told her, “that's what my friends call me.”
“That's the funniest name I've ever heard,” she told him, hesitating before accepting the drink, “ I thought my brother's name was funny but yours is even funnier.”
“Ah!” Said Spanner, “but nowhere near as funny as yours, eh?”
“What d'you mean?”
“Juke-box Judy....that's your name, isn't it?”
Judy smiled, she didn't answer him but she smiled.
“You don't like it that I called you that?”
“The Juke-box is what makes the music?”
“You didn't know that? Yes, yes of course, that's what makes the music.”
“Well, I like it then....I think.”
“Good, then that's what I'll call you from now on.”
“Spanner?”
“Yes?”
“The music's stopped.”
“Ha-ha. You got any money on you?”
“No, but I can ask my Granny for some.”
“Ha-ha, no need, Juke-box Judy. I found some in another pocket.”
They listened to the music without speaking. When a friend of Spanner's rode up and parked his motorbike, Spanner asked him to play more tunes. This happened three or four times.
Eventually, Judy pulled herself upright and turned to face her new friend.
“Thank you for the Coke, Spanner, and for the music. I'd better get back to Granny's place.”
“Any time,” said Spanner, then hesitated, “...........what's wrong with your legs?”
“Soft bones, Rickets. My bones don't grow properly and can break easily.”
“Is it painful?”
“Sometimes. The sun helps me to forget the pain, and now the music does too. Bye-bye, Spanner.”
“See you again, Juke-box Judy.”
She turned back too quickly at that and almost fell, leaning in to the wall to support herself. She threw Spanner a huge grin and made her way down the street.
About three weeks later, a sudden shower caught them unawares. Spanner gently picked Judy up and carried her inside the café to shelter. They had been meeting up from time to time, mostly when Spanner had no work to do and it wasn't raining. He told her he was a motorbike doctor and only worked when someone's bike wasn't running properly. She knew most of the bikers' names by then and one of them, Fast Eddie, showed her how to operate the juke-box; where to put the money and how to select the records, she was at once fascinated.
After a while, Judy spent almost as much time inside the café as she did outside, but wouldn't go in unless Spanner was around. Once inside, a good few of the regulars asked her to play the juke-box for them, providing the necessary coins along with their favoured selections. Judy quickly learned which letters and numbers represented her own particular favourites.
When the school closed for the summer holidays, Judy had the foresight to tell Spanner not to expect her, not unless she had to stay with her Granny, it was time for her lessons and they took place at home.
Punch's swimming lessons continued throughout the holidays and that was Judy's day off from learning. While her dad took Punch to the pool, her mum and she would visit her Granny, but she was never left alone then and she positively itched to visit with Spanner and his friends. On one such day, she was sitting on the bench outside her Granny's house with her mum when Spanner and two friends roared past at speed. Spanner saw her, turned full circle down on the shore road, as did his friends, and crept slowly back up the street. When they were more or less opposite Granny's house they tooted their horns and gave her a wave. Judy waved back and her mum tut-tutted at their noise.
It was still warm and sunny when school started up again and Judy took to visiting the café at every opportunity. She would sit opposite the Clyde Coast office and someone would always bring her a cold Coke. They all knew by then not to interrupt her listening, and to open the window so she could hear better. Spanner always sat with her, and he mostly listened too.
The fine weather couldn't last forever. Judy decided, somewhat grudgingly, that she would perhaps be wise to stop visiting the café until the spring and Spanner agreed with her.
Granny was in the middle of one of her stories when someone knocked at the front door. Judy recognised Spanner's voice.
“There's a gentleman here to see you, dear,” said Granny.
Judy was already at the window and laughing. Outside on the road stood a funny looking motorbike with a bit added on, making it a three-wheeler.
“I've come to take you for a ride, Juke-box Judy,” announced Spanner. “I had a word with your Granny at the weekend and she says it's fine, as long as we don't go too fast.”
Judy looked from her Granny to Spanner then back again, she actually did this twice, all of a sudden at a loss for words.
“Mister Spanner and his friends fixed my old shed back up after that wind blew it down, and they wouldn't take a penny for their trouble. Such nice young men. Mister Spanner says he knows you quite well and that he wants to take you for a spin. Isn't that kind of him?”
“Y.....yes Granny,” stammered Judy, her eyes full of wonder and not a little amusement. “I'll get my coat.”
“Yes, dear. The summer's over so you'd best wear your coat. Now, Mister Spanner, I don't want you going too fast, dear.”
“No, lady,” said Spanner, smiling at the delight on Judy's face and throwing her a wink. “I'll have her back in an hour.”
The side-car was lined with cushions and a bright tartan rug. “I've been fixing this for a friend and thought you might like some fresh air,” Spanner explained, making sure she was comfortable. “There's a bar there for you to hold on to so you don't get bumped. Are you ready?”
Judy could only nod.
They went three times around the war memorial before setting off along Ardrossan Road and joining the beach at the burn. They had to stop at the level crossing on Princes Street to let a train pass and then they were heading for the north shore. Spanner kept checking on her but he needn't have bothered, her eyes still wider than wide at the wonder of it all. They turned back at West Kilbride, having run out of shoreline, and this time they went along by Saltcoats beach; by which time Judy had found her voice again. They had half an hour in the café, where all of her new friends made a fuss of her before Spanner took her back to her Granny's house. Granny had the kettle on and made them all a nice cup of tea while Judy talked and talked and talked some more about her excursion.
“Just the same, dear,” said Granny when Judy stopped for a breath, “we don't need to mention this to your mum and dad, and especially Punch. They might not approve.”
“Yes, Granny,” agreed Judy.
Spanner left before Judy could thank him yet again, she had already done so, several times over.
“Such a nice young man,” said Granny, closing the door to. “Your Grampa had a motorbike before the War, you know. We went everywhere on it.”
The next time Judy saw Spanner, to speak to at least, was at her Granny's funeral. It was he who had rang for the ambulance after calling one Saturday to ask how Judy was getting on. Granny had taken a fall and Spanner saw her lying there through the window when he didn't get an answer. The old dear never regained consciousness and died two days later in hospital. There were raised eyebrows when Spanner and three friends entered the little church, and again when Judy went to sit with them for the service. Strangely, she was never once quizzed as to how she knew them, even by Punch.
Granny's house sold quickly. Then, all the talk was about sailing to Australia to start a new life and to afford Judy as much time in the sun as she could handle. She had no say in it, nor did Punch.
It took them six weeks to get there, to Sydney, then an interminable time on a train to Brisbane. Judy's parents had jobs lined up, and an older cousin, Harriet, to look after Judy.
Her illness seemed to worsen for a time, resulting in a broken ankle and the need to wear a calliper to protect it. She also had a hospital wheelchair to get about in. Harriet pushed her to the beach one day, she had her swimming costume on under her clothes. The following week, Judy decided she'd had enough of the calliper, and that she wanted to learn to swim. Her new doctor thought that to be a good idea, then easily talked her into becoming a Guinea Pig for a new treatment; spoke to her parents first and then to Judy herself.
The swimming brought her on a good way, building up her strength and stamina and the new tablets seemed to be doing her good too. By the age of eight, Judy was at a real school and making new friends, her symptoms all but gone although she was still a regular visitor to the hospital for checks and x-rays. The doctors were very pleased with her progress.
Swimming was the only sport she was allowed to participate in and she loved it, being very careful to avoid the more boisterous of her new friends. Punch was the true sportsman, captaining the school cricket team and showing real promise on the rugby field. Judy sat on the sidelines and barracked just as loud as anyone else when he was playing.
She excelled academically and was particularly interested in all things scientific and medical, having spent a good deal of her life so far in medical centres and hospitals. That interest led to a career in medicine where she eventually specialised in researching stroke victims and their recovery, quickly becoming something of a world expert on the subject. Punch kept on with his sporting ambitions until a bad injury forced his retirement and subsequent move into coaching both cricket and rugby league, rather successfully.
Neither parent trusted planes so it was left to Judy to attend an aunt's funeral back in Scotland. She took all of the leave owing to her and decided to make a holiday of it, visiting cousins and seeing a bit of her native country, something she had been unable to do before leaving for Australia.
She drove her aunt's car, the aunt who had recently died, and got quite a bit of travelling in before it was almost time to return home.
It was the war memorial that reminded her, brought her motorcycle trip back to her but she was then unsure if she had the right café since there wasn't a motorbike in sight. Seeing the Clyde Coast ticket office opposite reassured her and she parked the car outside her Granny's old house. The café had looked closed but she tried the door and it opened. The juke-box still stood in the corner, the same juke-box after nearly thirty years. She fiddled with the change in her purse and found the right coins but the tunes were different, some of them, with only one of her favourites having survived over the distance of time. That made her sad and she couldn't understand why.
“Here's your coffee, lady,” said the young waitress, “are you here on holiday?”
“Yes,” replied Judy, “I used to live here a long time ago.”
“You'll see a change then?”
“Not really sure. I was only about six when I left but I remember the bikers used to gather round here, around this café.”
“Not any more, and no tourists to speak of either.”
“So.....where do they go now?”
“The tourists? They go abroad because it works out cheaper.”
“I meant the bikers, sorry.”
“Oh, they go to the Westfield now, I think. More room for their motorbikes.”
“Where's that?”
“Just around the corner. First left and then first right.”
Judy drank her coffee and thought it would be nice to see if Spanner was still around. She hadn't thought of him much in all that time but the monument, the café and the juke-box had brought it all flooding back.
Around a dozen shiny motorbikes stood in a neat row outside the pub. Judy drove past slowly but couldn't see Spanner's among them, it would have stood out like a sore thumb. She then scolded herself for being so silly when it hit her that he would surely have upgraded or at least changed bikes over the years.
As soon as she parked up she saw him, he hadn't changed a bit, hadn't aged at all but she didn't consider that until she had called out his name.
“Spanner!”
The man turned quickly and she saw her mistake. It wasn't Spanner but he had the same bushy red beard and wide, wide shoulders.
“Sprocket,” he told her, “Spanner's my old man. Do you know him?”
“I did. A long time ago but you're his double. Is he inside?”
“No, lady. He doesn't get out much these days.”
“I'd like to see him. Would that be possible at all?”
“He doesn't owe you money, does he?”
“Ha-ha, no, it could be the other way about really.”
“Well, in that case, he only lives round the corner in Sydney Street. C'mon, I'll take you.”
Some of the bikers had come outside and one of them wolf-whistled. Sprocket jabbered at him in a tongue long forgotten by Judy but she caught the gist of it and smiled.
Spanner didn't know her. She couldn't really have expected him to but she knew him. She also knew he was a stroke victim without having to be told. It had taken most of his left side and Sprocket told her his speech was slurred. He was sitting in front of the television but not taking much notice of it. Sprocket turned the set off and disappeared to a back room.
“Don't you remember me, Spanner?” asked Judy, sitting herself directly opposite him, “surely you can remember my name?”
Spanner stared blankly as Sprocket brought him a drink.
“Judy,” she said, “but you called me something else besides that.”
His eyes flickered slightly and Judy thought she saw a spark of recognition.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” asked Sprocket, but Spanner butted in before she could answer.
“Juke-box,” he managed, “Juke-box Judy,” then clearer, “Juke-box Judy.” He had a lopsided smile on his face and Sprocket stood there with his mouth open, speechless.
Half an hour later Spanner was in his wheelchair and Judy was talking to the back of his head as she pushed him along the almost deserted prom. She stopped at the burn, put the brake on and sat cross-legged on the grass verge in front of him. A small tear fell from his right eye and Judy almost felt like crying too. She'd had dealings with many hundreds of stroke victims through her work but this was different, this was her friend.
“You came back,” slurred Spanner, “you came back, Juke-box Judy. You came back.”
“Well,” she told him, recovering something of her composure, “I owed you a favour and I always pay my debts.”
“I remember,” he said, “three times round....round.......round.....”
“The monument, yes, Spanner, and then all along the shore road. The best day of my life.”
Judy changed her flights. She took Spanner's doctor's details from Sprocket and arranged a meeting. All three of them kept the appointment, the specialist keen to meet Judy when she introduced herself over the phone, her advances in the field having caught his attention through papers and articles in the medical journals. Sprocket welcomed the news that Spanner's quality of life could be improved with the help of new innovations, but exactly how much depended as much on Spanner as it did the doctors.
Judy stayed for an extra fortnight to help initiate the new treatment and then had no choice but to fly home to Australia. There had been an immediate improvement in Spanner's speech at least.
Six months later, Sprocket sent photos of Spanner down on the prom. No sign of the wheelchair and his walking stick tucked under his left arm. He was grinning a mile wide.
They talk on the phone now, his speech dramatically improved although he whispers when he tells Juke-box Judy he plans to fly out sometime soon to see her. She doesn't doubt him for one minute. She's looking forward to showing him around Brisbane, and this time she'll be doing the driving.
Swearwords: None.
Description: One good turn deserves another.........however long it might take.
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Judy wasn't well. Truth be told she had never been well but by the age of five she had become somewhat used to it. Punch, real name Jack, her older brother by almost three years, cottoned on quickly to the severity of her illness and was very protective towards her.
Rickets, in the late-fifties, didn't have much going for it in the way of research and the treatments were crude to say the least. Judy succumbed to the doctors and specialists' frequent insistence in prodding, weighing, probing and x-raying of her tiny frame to the point where she thought it was quite normal, and besides, a trip to the hospital was a day out.
Tablets and injections didn't seem to help much, but Judy was quick to catch on to the fact that direct sunlight did, the warm, late spring weather enabling her to sit on the bench outside her Granny's house in just her shorts and sloppy-joe and almost feel stronger. That's where she heard the music for the first time.
It came from the café three doors away at the corner of the street; the same café that always had motorbikes parked outside.
That same night, Judy managed to walk all the way round to the swimming pool to pick up Punch from his lesson without her dad having to carry her. Punch and her parents made a big fuss of her for this achievement.
On rainy days, Judy and her Granny listened to the radio until Granny nodded off to sleep, sometimes in mid-knit. Then, Judy would sit at the window and watch as the Clyde Coast buses either filled up with passengers or spewed them out onto the pavement; the radio in the background being unable to hold much of her attention, mostly a lot of boring people talking about something boring. At least her Granny told interesting stories when she was awake and knitting, inviting her to join in and only shushing her whenever the news came on.
Weekends were spent with her parents, and Punch of course. Weekends and holidays were her school time for the fact that she wasn't allowed to go to school because of her soft bones, and for the fact that both of her parents were teachers. Punch sat in on her lessons sometimes, too, despite having been at school all week.
Granny was fast asleep, snoring gently with her knitting on her knee. Judy took one last glance through the window at her then headed for the steps, three of them. She bounced down them on her bum, much like she did with the stairs at home. She knew not to cross the busy road but she also knew she didn't have to. She stuck to the inside of the pavement and made it beyond the chip shop to the café without catching any harm. She gazed inside at the juke-box with its flashing lights and recognised it as the source of the music she had been hearing on the wind. When her legs got tired she sat under the window and faced the sun; the summer was on its way. She must have drifted off.
“Are you OK little girl?” asked whatever it was that had completely blocked out the sun.
“I'm.......I'm listening to the music,” stammered Judy, squinting upwards to see a huge man with an enormous red beard looming over her. “I'm.....I'm.....I'm not doing something wrong, am I?”
“Not at all,” said the man, “It's just that you've been there for a long time.”
“Maybe I'd better get back to Granny's house,” she said, using the window sill to get to her feet, “she'll be wondering where I am.”
The man sat on his motorbike and watched as she hugged the inside wall, finally disappearing through the gate of her Granny's house. Granny was still fast asleep but showing signs of stirring, so Judy stuck her nose in one of Punch's old comics.
It rained all the next day but the day after that was warm and bright. Judy made her way to the café just as fast as her little legs would take her, plonking herself down as soon as she reached the window, well, after checking the juke-box was still there in its corner since she hadn't heard it so far that day. She laughed when the same big man from before stepped off his bike and the frame rose about a foot in the air when relieved of his weight.
“Will you make the music play?” she pleaded, before he could ask what she was laughing at.
“What would you like to hear, little girl?”
“My name's Judy,” she told him, almost folding her arms across her chest in defiance before remembering how it had hurt the last time she tried it. “I just want to hear some music.”
The man went inside and Judy stopped herself from scrambling to her feet to see if he would do it, smiling as the first bars of the music hit her ears, then smiling wider when the window above her head partly opened, making the music sound even louder. Five minutes later, the man came back out and sat down beside her, offering her a bottle of Coke with a straw in it. “My name's Spanner,” he told her, “that's what my friends call me.”
“That's the funniest name I've ever heard,” she told him, hesitating before accepting the drink, “ I thought my brother's name was funny but yours is even funnier.”
“Ah!” Said Spanner, “but nowhere near as funny as yours, eh?”
“What d'you mean?”
“Juke-box Judy....that's your name, isn't it?”
Judy smiled, she didn't answer him but she smiled.
“You don't like it that I called you that?”
“The Juke-box is what makes the music?”
“You didn't know that? Yes, yes of course, that's what makes the music.”
“Well, I like it then....I think.”
“Good, then that's what I'll call you from now on.”
“Spanner?”
“Yes?”
“The music's stopped.”
“Ha-ha. You got any money on you?”
“No, but I can ask my Granny for some.”
“Ha-ha, no need, Juke-box Judy. I found some in another pocket.”
They listened to the music without speaking. When a friend of Spanner's rode up and parked his motorbike, Spanner asked him to play more tunes. This happened three or four times.
Eventually, Judy pulled herself upright and turned to face her new friend.
“Thank you for the Coke, Spanner, and for the music. I'd better get back to Granny's place.”
“Any time,” said Spanner, then hesitated, “...........what's wrong with your legs?”
“Soft bones, Rickets. My bones don't grow properly and can break easily.”
“Is it painful?”
“Sometimes. The sun helps me to forget the pain, and now the music does too. Bye-bye, Spanner.”
“See you again, Juke-box Judy.”
She turned back too quickly at that and almost fell, leaning in to the wall to support herself. She threw Spanner a huge grin and made her way down the street.
About three weeks later, a sudden shower caught them unawares. Spanner gently picked Judy up and carried her inside the café to shelter. They had been meeting up from time to time, mostly when Spanner had no work to do and it wasn't raining. He told her he was a motorbike doctor and only worked when someone's bike wasn't running properly. She knew most of the bikers' names by then and one of them, Fast Eddie, showed her how to operate the juke-box; where to put the money and how to select the records, she was at once fascinated.
After a while, Judy spent almost as much time inside the café as she did outside, but wouldn't go in unless Spanner was around. Once inside, a good few of the regulars asked her to play the juke-box for them, providing the necessary coins along with their favoured selections. Judy quickly learned which letters and numbers represented her own particular favourites.
When the school closed for the summer holidays, Judy had the foresight to tell Spanner not to expect her, not unless she had to stay with her Granny, it was time for her lessons and they took place at home.
Punch's swimming lessons continued throughout the holidays and that was Judy's day off from learning. While her dad took Punch to the pool, her mum and she would visit her Granny, but she was never left alone then and she positively itched to visit with Spanner and his friends. On one such day, she was sitting on the bench outside her Granny's house with her mum when Spanner and two friends roared past at speed. Spanner saw her, turned full circle down on the shore road, as did his friends, and crept slowly back up the street. When they were more or less opposite Granny's house they tooted their horns and gave her a wave. Judy waved back and her mum tut-tutted at their noise.
It was still warm and sunny when school started up again and Judy took to visiting the café at every opportunity. She would sit opposite the Clyde Coast office and someone would always bring her a cold Coke. They all knew by then not to interrupt her listening, and to open the window so she could hear better. Spanner always sat with her, and he mostly listened too.
The fine weather couldn't last forever. Judy decided, somewhat grudgingly, that she would perhaps be wise to stop visiting the café until the spring and Spanner agreed with her.
Granny was in the middle of one of her stories when someone knocked at the front door. Judy recognised Spanner's voice.
“There's a gentleman here to see you, dear,” said Granny.
Judy was already at the window and laughing. Outside on the road stood a funny looking motorbike with a bit added on, making it a three-wheeler.
“I've come to take you for a ride, Juke-box Judy,” announced Spanner. “I had a word with your Granny at the weekend and she says it's fine, as long as we don't go too fast.”
Judy looked from her Granny to Spanner then back again, she actually did this twice, all of a sudden at a loss for words.
“Mister Spanner and his friends fixed my old shed back up after that wind blew it down, and they wouldn't take a penny for their trouble. Such nice young men. Mister Spanner says he knows you quite well and that he wants to take you for a spin. Isn't that kind of him?”
“Y.....yes Granny,” stammered Judy, her eyes full of wonder and not a little amusement. “I'll get my coat.”
“Yes, dear. The summer's over so you'd best wear your coat. Now, Mister Spanner, I don't want you going too fast, dear.”
“No, lady,” said Spanner, smiling at the delight on Judy's face and throwing her a wink. “I'll have her back in an hour.”
The side-car was lined with cushions and a bright tartan rug. “I've been fixing this for a friend and thought you might like some fresh air,” Spanner explained, making sure she was comfortable. “There's a bar there for you to hold on to so you don't get bumped. Are you ready?”
Judy could only nod.
They went three times around the war memorial before setting off along Ardrossan Road and joining the beach at the burn. They had to stop at the level crossing on Princes Street to let a train pass and then they were heading for the north shore. Spanner kept checking on her but he needn't have bothered, her eyes still wider than wide at the wonder of it all. They turned back at West Kilbride, having run out of shoreline, and this time they went along by Saltcoats beach; by which time Judy had found her voice again. They had half an hour in the café, where all of her new friends made a fuss of her before Spanner took her back to her Granny's house. Granny had the kettle on and made them all a nice cup of tea while Judy talked and talked and talked some more about her excursion.
“Just the same, dear,” said Granny when Judy stopped for a breath, “we don't need to mention this to your mum and dad, and especially Punch. They might not approve.”
“Yes, Granny,” agreed Judy.
Spanner left before Judy could thank him yet again, she had already done so, several times over.
“Such a nice young man,” said Granny, closing the door to. “Your Grampa had a motorbike before the War, you know. We went everywhere on it.”
The next time Judy saw Spanner, to speak to at least, was at her Granny's funeral. It was he who had rang for the ambulance after calling one Saturday to ask how Judy was getting on. Granny had taken a fall and Spanner saw her lying there through the window when he didn't get an answer. The old dear never regained consciousness and died two days later in hospital. There were raised eyebrows when Spanner and three friends entered the little church, and again when Judy went to sit with them for the service. Strangely, she was never once quizzed as to how she knew them, even by Punch.
Granny's house sold quickly. Then, all the talk was about sailing to Australia to start a new life and to afford Judy as much time in the sun as she could handle. She had no say in it, nor did Punch.
It took them six weeks to get there, to Sydney, then an interminable time on a train to Brisbane. Judy's parents had jobs lined up, and an older cousin, Harriet, to look after Judy.
Her illness seemed to worsen for a time, resulting in a broken ankle and the need to wear a calliper to protect it. She also had a hospital wheelchair to get about in. Harriet pushed her to the beach one day, she had her swimming costume on under her clothes. The following week, Judy decided she'd had enough of the calliper, and that she wanted to learn to swim. Her new doctor thought that to be a good idea, then easily talked her into becoming a Guinea Pig for a new treatment; spoke to her parents first and then to Judy herself.
The swimming brought her on a good way, building up her strength and stamina and the new tablets seemed to be doing her good too. By the age of eight, Judy was at a real school and making new friends, her symptoms all but gone although she was still a regular visitor to the hospital for checks and x-rays. The doctors were very pleased with her progress.
Swimming was the only sport she was allowed to participate in and she loved it, being very careful to avoid the more boisterous of her new friends. Punch was the true sportsman, captaining the school cricket team and showing real promise on the rugby field. Judy sat on the sidelines and barracked just as loud as anyone else when he was playing.
She excelled academically and was particularly interested in all things scientific and medical, having spent a good deal of her life so far in medical centres and hospitals. That interest led to a career in medicine where she eventually specialised in researching stroke victims and their recovery, quickly becoming something of a world expert on the subject. Punch kept on with his sporting ambitions until a bad injury forced his retirement and subsequent move into coaching both cricket and rugby league, rather successfully.
Neither parent trusted planes so it was left to Judy to attend an aunt's funeral back in Scotland. She took all of the leave owing to her and decided to make a holiday of it, visiting cousins and seeing a bit of her native country, something she had been unable to do before leaving for Australia.
She drove her aunt's car, the aunt who had recently died, and got quite a bit of travelling in before it was almost time to return home.
It was the war memorial that reminded her, brought her motorcycle trip back to her but she was then unsure if she had the right café since there wasn't a motorbike in sight. Seeing the Clyde Coast ticket office opposite reassured her and she parked the car outside her Granny's old house. The café had looked closed but she tried the door and it opened. The juke-box still stood in the corner, the same juke-box after nearly thirty years. She fiddled with the change in her purse and found the right coins but the tunes were different, some of them, with only one of her favourites having survived over the distance of time. That made her sad and she couldn't understand why.
“Here's your coffee, lady,” said the young waitress, “are you here on holiday?”
“Yes,” replied Judy, “I used to live here a long time ago.”
“You'll see a change then?”
“Not really sure. I was only about six when I left but I remember the bikers used to gather round here, around this café.”
“Not any more, and no tourists to speak of either.”
“So.....where do they go now?”
“The tourists? They go abroad because it works out cheaper.”
“I meant the bikers, sorry.”
“Oh, they go to the Westfield now, I think. More room for their motorbikes.”
“Where's that?”
“Just around the corner. First left and then first right.”
Judy drank her coffee and thought it would be nice to see if Spanner was still around. She hadn't thought of him much in all that time but the monument, the café and the juke-box had brought it all flooding back.
Around a dozen shiny motorbikes stood in a neat row outside the pub. Judy drove past slowly but couldn't see Spanner's among them, it would have stood out like a sore thumb. She then scolded herself for being so silly when it hit her that he would surely have upgraded or at least changed bikes over the years.
As soon as she parked up she saw him, he hadn't changed a bit, hadn't aged at all but she didn't consider that until she had called out his name.
“Spanner!”
The man turned quickly and she saw her mistake. It wasn't Spanner but he had the same bushy red beard and wide, wide shoulders.
“Sprocket,” he told her, “Spanner's my old man. Do you know him?”
“I did. A long time ago but you're his double. Is he inside?”
“No, lady. He doesn't get out much these days.”
“I'd like to see him. Would that be possible at all?”
“He doesn't owe you money, does he?”
“Ha-ha, no, it could be the other way about really.”
“Well, in that case, he only lives round the corner in Sydney Street. C'mon, I'll take you.”
Some of the bikers had come outside and one of them wolf-whistled. Sprocket jabbered at him in a tongue long forgotten by Judy but she caught the gist of it and smiled.
Spanner didn't know her. She couldn't really have expected him to but she knew him. She also knew he was a stroke victim without having to be told. It had taken most of his left side and Sprocket told her his speech was slurred. He was sitting in front of the television but not taking much notice of it. Sprocket turned the set off and disappeared to a back room.
“Don't you remember me, Spanner?” asked Judy, sitting herself directly opposite him, “surely you can remember my name?”
Spanner stared blankly as Sprocket brought him a drink.
“Judy,” she said, “but you called me something else besides that.”
His eyes flickered slightly and Judy thought she saw a spark of recognition.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” asked Sprocket, but Spanner butted in before she could answer.
“Juke-box,” he managed, “Juke-box Judy,” then clearer, “Juke-box Judy.” He had a lopsided smile on his face and Sprocket stood there with his mouth open, speechless.
Half an hour later Spanner was in his wheelchair and Judy was talking to the back of his head as she pushed him along the almost deserted prom. She stopped at the burn, put the brake on and sat cross-legged on the grass verge in front of him. A small tear fell from his right eye and Judy almost felt like crying too. She'd had dealings with many hundreds of stroke victims through her work but this was different, this was her friend.
“You came back,” slurred Spanner, “you came back, Juke-box Judy. You came back.”
“Well,” she told him, recovering something of her composure, “I owed you a favour and I always pay my debts.”
“I remember,” he said, “three times round....round.......round.....”
“The monument, yes, Spanner, and then all along the shore road. The best day of my life.”
Judy changed her flights. She took Spanner's doctor's details from Sprocket and arranged a meeting. All three of them kept the appointment, the specialist keen to meet Judy when she introduced herself over the phone, her advances in the field having caught his attention through papers and articles in the medical journals. Sprocket welcomed the news that Spanner's quality of life could be improved with the help of new innovations, but exactly how much depended as much on Spanner as it did the doctors.
Judy stayed for an extra fortnight to help initiate the new treatment and then had no choice but to fly home to Australia. There had been an immediate improvement in Spanner's speech at least.
Six months later, Sprocket sent photos of Spanner down on the prom. No sign of the wheelchair and his walking stick tucked under his left arm. He was grinning a mile wide.
They talk on the phone now, his speech dramatically improved although he whispers when he tells Juke-box Judy he plans to fly out sometime soon to see her. She doesn't doubt him for one minute. She's looking forward to showing him around Brisbane, and this time she'll be doing the driving.
About the Author
Angus Shoor Caan is in an ex-seaman and rail worker. Born and bred in Saltcoats, he returned to Scotland after many years in England and found the time to begin writing. He has a number of publications to his name, including Coont Thum and Tattie Zkowen's Perfect Days, both of which have been published by McStorytellers.
You can read his full profile on McVoices.
You can read his full profile on McVoices.