Bench
by
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PROLOGUE: The Aftermath
His mouth was locked in a silent scream, and his hands were held out in front of his face in a futile attempt at warding off the impending disaster. Mere seconds ago, the sight of the old man in the middle of the road had rendered him immobile. Suddenly he saw with cruel, mocking precision the fatal consequences of his decision to detour off the road and into the field. He was unable to think or move, unable to make a sound, unable even to breathe; it was as if the act of swerving off the road had caused his spirit to become detached from his body, and he was now hovering above himself, observing helplessly, stuck in that stance with his hands held out in front of his face to fend off the impending blow—
Straight into the field, headed for the bench, for the people gathered under the tree…
If only he could move his arms, turn the wheel, step on the brakes, do something, anything—
But he didn’t, couldn’t.
He could only gape in heart-stopping panic as the car sped towards its target.
The aftermath was a scene right out of a movie. The woman frantically tugged at the car door, screaming and wailing, while her daughter tried to hold her back, crying, “Mum, Mummy, don’t, don’t—!” The vehicle itself looked as if it was trying to climb the tree, its entire front section smashed up against the trunk, headlights aimed at the sky, one still shining into the branches. The two couples stood trembling some distance away, glass, splintered wood and other debris at their feet, stunned by their near-brush with death, and marvelling that what had only moments ago been a scene of calm had so suddenly turned into one of chaos and destruction.
Residents, young and old, were rushing out of their homes, all a-twitter at the drama that had unfolded in their usually quiet neighbourhood. Some of them gathered around the old man lying bloodied and unmoving by the side of the road, while others congregated around another, younger man, also unconscious and in worse shape than the elderly gent, his leg bent at an ugly angle, clearly broken.
Next to this man was a girl in tears who called his name, and the agitated neighbours hurled questions at her—“What happened?” “Are they all right?” “How on earth…?”—even as the emergency personnel turned up and hurried across the grassy expanse, and the media arrived on the scene to speak to the strangers united by this horrific turn of events.
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About the Book
A solitary wooden structure sits bathed in the shade of a tree. The small, inconspicuous neighborhood park bench seemingly has the power to summon a select few who need a brief respite from life.
Matthew Leigh, a headstrong college student, just wants a peaceful break from the musty university library. As he sits on the bench to eat his lunch, he forges an unlikely friendship with a six-year-old boy that eventually forces him to rethink his entire philosophy on life.
Derrick Weston has just faced rejection from the woman he wants to marry. As he seeks solace on the bench, he has no idea he is about to learn that his girlfriend has a secret that will dramatically impact both their lives.
Joe Cooke and his friends just want to feel free. As they meet at the bench illuminated by moonlight, they all soon learn that actions have consequences and that blood is not always thicker than water.
Septuagenarian Graham Hanson sits there with the love of his life, and learns the true meaning of marriage, companionship, and the phrase, “Till death do us part.”
In this compelling tale, several ordinary people forced to confront complex issues are connected by one common denominator—an old, neglected bench in the middle of a grassy square.
About the Author
Nick Choo graduated from Murdoch University in Western Australia with a master of arts degree in journalism and creative industries. He has worked as a writer and copy editor with media companies in Kuala Lumpur and Singapore. He is also an accomplished playwright, composer, and musician whose musical and theatre works have been performed in Malaysia and Australia.