Driving Jarvis Ham. Jim Bob

Driving Jarvis Ham - Jim Bob


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something.

      Jarvis tilted his head and looked at me like a puppy that had just eaten my homework, and even though Jarvis was in his late thirties and not my developmentally challenged son, I asked the man behind the counter, ‘Can’t he just pop in quickly?’

      ‘Not unless he’s got flippers and a snorkel he can’t,’ the man said before finally turning round to face us. ‘What pump number was it?’

      The friendly Devon ways that freaked out visitors from London must have bypassed this petrol station. I looked through the window at the minuscule garage forecourt and its two petrol pumps. Mine was the only car there.

      ‘That one,’ I said, pointing at it.

      ‘Number one,’ the man said. ‘Forty pounds and a penny.’

      Jarvis was now doing the quick march on the spot and also grabbing the front of his trousers. I gave the man behind the counter two twenty pound notes and he made a show of holding them both up to the light and examining them.

      ‘There’s a lot of forgeries about,’ he said and looked at me, ‘And a penny.’

      I rooted around in my pockets for a bit and then gave him another twenty pound note.

      ‘Can I have a receipt please?’ I said.

      Jarvis left the shop in a hurry as the man behind the counter slowly counted out my change in as many small denominational coins as possible.

      I walked back to the car where Jarvis was still hopping from foot to foot.

      ‘Go in the trees,’ I said.

      ‘Someone might see me.’

      I looked around. Apart from the fast passing cars and Devon’s grumpiest man in the garage shop there was nobody about.

      ‘Will you keep a look out?’ Jarvis said.

      I followed him over to the trees behind the closed down Mister Breakfast and stood with my back to him as Jarvis relieved himself.

      ‘Remember when we worked here?’ I said.

      ‘No.’

      ‘Yes you do.’

      ‘When?’

      ‘You used to spin the sauce bottles.’

      ‘The what bottles?’

      ‘The sauce bottles.’

      ‘I did?’

      ‘Yeah, like Tom Cruise.’

      ‘Tom Cruise?’

      ‘In Cocktail.’

      ‘Don’t remember.’

      ‘You do.’

      Jarvis came out from the trees, still zipping his flies and looking down at the front of his trousers.

      ‘For a million pounds …’ he said.

      ‘No. I wouldn’t.’

      Why couldn’t I have been sat next to sweet freckle-faced Suzie Barnado?

      JARVIS GOES TO DRAMA CLUB

       MARCH 8th 1991

      Drama Club was brilliant tonight. We played a game called Meeeoowwwmmm Screeech! where we stood in a circle and passed a toy car around. If we had the car and somebody shouted Screeech! we had to quickly stop and pass the car back in the opposite direction. We also played another game where we stood in a circle and one person had to leave the room and while they were gone one of the others would be made leader. When the person came back the leader would do small movements and the others would copy him and the person who’d left would have to guess who the leader was. It’s difficult to explain on paper.

       MARCH 15th 1991

      At Drama Club tonight we sat in a circle, Pamela started a story and threw a tennis ball to one of us. When we caught the tennis ball we had to carry on the story. I would have been brilliant at this but I’m rubbish at catching.

       MARCH 23rd 1991

      At Drama Club last night we made a short list of ideas for our spring production for Local Heroes of History Month. It’s going to be brilliant. Very brilliant.

       MARCH 30th 1991

      Tonight everybody stood in a circle and one of us had to be a murderer and one of us a detective. The murderer had to kill everyone else by winking at them and the detective had to guess who the murderer was before they’d killed all of Drama Club. Just before it was time to leave Pamela told everyone to stand in a circle for a new game. She told us to close our eyes. The next thing that happened was everyone started singing happy birthday and when I opened my eyes Sandra had brought in a birthday cake for me. I blew out the candles and everybody cheered and someone started shouting ‘Bumps! Bumps!’ but I don’t like the bumps and so they let me off. It’s not actually my birthday until tomorrow but I didn’t let that spoil it.

       APRIL 6th 1991

      I was very disappointed to not get the role of Sir Francis Drake in Drama Club’s production of El Draco for Local Heroes of History Month.

      The actual medium of delivery of that last entry probably tells us more than the words themselves. I’ve taken it out of context. Here it is back in the context I found it.

      Jarvis Ham

      Ham and Hams Teahouse

      Fore Street

      Mini Addledford

      Devon

      Pamela Finch Masters

      The South Hams Am-Dram Players

      The Hall

      Parsonage Road

      Devon

      6th April 1991

      Dear Pamela,

      I was very disappointed to not get the role of Sir Francis Drake in Drama Club’s production of El Draco for Local Heroes of History Month.

      Yours faithfully

      Jarvis Ham

      PS: I feel I can no longer attend Drama Club

      After Jarvis leaves Drama Club the diary action goes quiet for a bit. And then this is published.

       JUNE 7th 1992

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      And then it all goes quiet again, because Jarvis has always been a slow reader.

      Until.

       DECEMBER 2nd 1992

       DIANA (REVISED)

      When you came to Devon that day

      To open a leisure centre

      When you pressed a button and turned on the flumes

      When you played snooker for the press

      And then when you went walkabout

      When you walked about past Milletts, past Marks and Spencer

      When people gave you


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