Someone's Coming, Simon

(From "Someone's Coming, Simon")

 

SIMON BENEGA CHANTS HIS way through the corridors of Bentham for Bonkers and has done so for thirty-odd years. He was found beneath the Cheesewring in October of 2080 by a group of tor walkers on Stowe’s Hill. A pubescent youth then, he lay scooped in a shallow bed of earth: naked, scratched, and rambling.

 

Some of the group, being superstitious, thought he’d been attacked by the Beast of Bodmin Moor. Others, being parents, opted for the demon of Ecstasy and called the paramedics.

 

For two weeks, the Truro Care Commissioning Panel watched him taking up good space in one of their last free beds. After reviewing his case, the Assessment Team placed him in Bentham Home (endowed in perpetuity by a bottomless trust fund), which could better meet his ‘challenging needs’.

 

In Bentham, where every resident is auto-classified as ‘bonkers’, Simon goes through life as if enjoying far more than his environment suggests. Arms outstretched, he prays with invisible others. He shares his food as if seated at a large table. He sketches intricate, technical designs. Sings haunting madrigals and bows to unseen audiences. He—well, we’ll skip over that particular activity.

 

With each passing season, interest in Simon diminishes; even in autumn, when there’s time to watch the leaves fall, or to feel the icy fingers of the Grim Reaper testing one’s body temperature. But Simon does have a message—several, in fact—for anyone who cares to listen.

 

“… Haust comes; Haust goes. Sweet Heather finds me; she shields me with love. I am Arthe, a true man with true life and true wife. Wedded, bedded and father of five. The other side of Keuswask marks the way home …” 

 

Don’t worry Simon, someone’s coming.