Where Tork took me ...

The character of Tork, from The Invasion of Tork appeals to many readers. Is it his lack of pretentions? Perhaps. Or is it watching him take the first tentative steps out of hell then on to a better place that grabs us? He has to fight, and face up, and dig for bravery when he feels he has none left. Or is it watching him create beauty from scraps of paper and lighting a torch to ignorance and arrogance? Certainly. Don't we have to believe that it is always possible to hope, to strive, to succeed ? The character of Tork endures, and endures, to me, not least because he was born from my own experience of working with people in trouble and distress.
For years I listened and tried, and watched them falling back and failing, sometimes coming out then going back to prison in an endless cycle. Their stories affected me profoundly. I saw their lights even during the darkest hours of their lives, and I cannot say I lost hope in anyone. Obviously I couldn't help them all and in the end my job came to an end.
But the story of Tork, and people like Tork, lives on. Perhaps now more than ever there is a need to give substance and voice to the faces in the crowd. To keep looking for meaning and to notice the metaphorical origami figures made from someone trying to find a purpose. A home.

Meet Kaz :)

( extract from 'I met you on the Pink Spot of Procrastination'.) Though I doubt that title will stick LOL

He’d pissed himself again.
“Urgh,” Kaz said feebly and closed his eyes, trying to re-capture the blissfulness of sleep. It was just beyond his reach – tantalising, delicious and oblivious. It had nothing to do with the nasty coldness against his legs and crotch or the scratchy things attached to his cheek.
He was glued to the pillow by his own vomit.
“Eeeee,” he said feebly. If life was fair, next time he woke up he’d be sitting on a beach drinking one of those amazing cock tails with glass balls and a ladies skirt on top, just like on the adverts.
But there was something else. As if concrete on his face and acid on his jeans weren’t bad enough! He carefully opened one eye and was assaulted by painful swords of light. Yes, there was most definitely a ‘something else’ in the room.
He snapped his eye shut instantly, which began a chain reaction of terrible aches and pains around his body, but mainly in his head.
But the something was insistent.
“Whaaaaaa?” Kaz croaked.
“Kaz! Get your lazy arse up now, we’re already late. You’re on the last warning remember?”
The words went in, but then they just waltzed right back out, dancing across the room and making no sense.
But the awfulness he now identified as banging, only got louder.
“If you don’t open this door in five seconds I’m going to reception to tell them you died in your sleep,” Tork said crossly, and then Kaz made sense of the words. It was Wednesday and that meant the world had indeed gone bleak and all the horrors were waiting for him.
Placement day.
“I’m coming,” he said pitifully. “I don’t feel very well.”
“No, and that’s because you were shitfaced again last night.”
“I wasn’t.” He hunched forward and made an attempt to get to the door by shuffling his feet and clutching his stomach at the same time. It was only as he unlocked and opened the door to let Tork in, that he realised the room stank. “Please, come in,” he said politely, and ushered Tork inside as if into a magnificent palace.
But Tork shook his head firmly. “No – oh “he waved his hands in front of his nose in distaste. “You need a shower.”
“ Yes, I was just about to have one,” Kaz said cheerfully. The room began to sway in a very alarming manner. “As soon as I can let go of this wall, that is.”
Tork sighed. “I don’t have time for this.” He grabbed Kaz’s arm and yanked him unceremoniously across the landing towards the showers. “One day you’re going to push them too far, you know. Get in. You have to be outside ready for the bus in one hour.”
“An hour? You mean I could’ve stayed in bed for ages yet,” Kaz whined, and considered staggering back.
“Kaz, it’s going to take you at least an hour to sober up and get clean. Go on.” Tork put his hands on his hips and glared, and Kaz knew defeat. He slid into the bathroom and locked the door, in case Tork came in to check. Kaz wouldn’t put it past him to stand outside waiting, like a sergeant major.
Bleach and deodorant smells began mixing up with the piss and vomit, and then everything went black. Just in time he grabbed the edges of the toilet as poison and loss and sadness poured out. With each wretch, his stomach ached and his head pounded. If he just lied down here in this bathroom and closed his eyes, maybe he’d feel better.
“You ok?” Tork called.
“Yeah,” he called back as strongly as he could.
“Good. Get in the shower then. I’m not going until I hear the water.”
Tork’s serious voice made him giggle, which popped out like a donkey snort. Kaz never was any good at being told off, but there was no answering laugh from behind the door so he crawled across the floor, and got in the shower. “I’m in the shower,” he called, feeling bad now that Tork went to all this trouble just for him. He didn’t have to, he just did.
It took him at least a moment to remember he was still wearing his clothes, standing there in the shower with his head against the cool wall of tiling.