Blake and Aimee

Chapter 22: Blake

"So, in the 1920s life was all well and good, businesses flourishing, people living in the lap of luxury. Music and fashion were thriving, before the stock market crash in 1929 which sent Wall Street into chaos and wiped out millions of investments right?" Aimee nods in approval. "So, then as a chain reaction, over the years to come the employment rate and output from industry drastically declined, but the whole country at risk economically. By 1933, around half the nations banks were shut down, and over 15 million Americans were left unemployed, leading to mass poverty." Aimee laughs slightly and smiles.

"See? You know what you are doing, don't see why you are so worried." I stand up, suddenly feeling irritated with everything. I think I still have to take my medication as well, I'm starting to get a real nasty headache.

"I just don't know how I'm going to remember everything, sometimes I just feel so lost and distant in my own head that I can't comprehend anything that's going on around me." She leans over to grab her pen, her hand rests on my shoulder.

"I can't imagine what you're going through Blake. But if you need anything, I mean anything at all, don't be afraid to ask okay?" I nod. Normally I would shrug it off, I don't like being helped, but there is just something about her that makes me forget about that stubborn side of myself. For a moment, it's like I want her to help me, like I need her to help me.

"Yeah thanks, anyway English is what I'm really struggling with, so we should probably go over that next."

"Alright then," she leans back into her bag, "English it is."

...

"I can't read this thing its too confusing. The words are frying my brain." Aimee looks up.

"Well that doesn't sound very healthy." She laughs at her own little joke, "What is it that you don't get?"

"The whole bloody thing? What is he even talking about? I get he's sort of escaping from his life at the start but then there is all this shit about a bird and I lose the plot."

"Right, well in Ode to a Nightingale the symbolism of the Nightingale is used to show the contrasting relationship between love and death, ease and struggle, which is exactly what Keats is explaining; this internal conflict between wanted to escape and "fly away" if you will and staying to deal with his problems. The first two stanzas he is longing to escape by use of substance, for example; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen. He then fades away, using his own imagination as an escape. The then refers primarily to the whimsical setting of the beauty in nature and alludes to the story of Ruth in the bible at the end of the second-last stanza."

"Oh woah. Brainfuck much? Okay, what I don't get is the last stanza though it really throws me off, like he escapes into his imagination right? But the last line reads Fled is that music; Do I wake or do I sleep?" Aimee doesn't look up from her notebook, her hair draped across her face

"Yeah what about it?"

"Is he awake or still asleep? Is he still in, quite literally, fairy land or is he back into reality?" Feeling a drowsy numbness paining my sense I collapse upon my bed, paper over my face. "It's all poetic bullshit in the end." Aimee responds, but her voice is somehow distant. She always talks like that when referring to some art from, whether it be poetry or paintings, maybe she escapes in her mind as well.

"That's the best part about it, you never know if he wakes up. It's ambiguous." She looks over at me as I roll on my side. "Can be interpreted many ways. Like me I guess..." She frowns and snaps out of her philosophical state, "anyway I better go. Thanks for studying with me."

"Ha, you were teaching me for most of it, plus you had a run in with my father which wasn't exactly-"

"Blake, forget it. I had a good night with you and that's what matters."

"Okay, well I will walk you down to your car anyway."

I head downstairs with Aimee and Ma comes out from the lounge, her face is red- she's been crying. Poor Ma.

"Ah you are leaving now sweetheart," She pulls her blanket around her and stares at the floor, "I just want to say I am so sorry for what happened at dinner I can't even begin to explain the absolute-" Aimee interrupts.

"Mrs Sullivan honestly it's alright."

"No deary its not, I don't want you to think Blake is raised in an abusive household. His father wasn't always like this, but now we have no choice but to stay with him- after all he pays the bills. There is only so much a store clerk can ear around here. I was sick a while recently and since then I haven't been able to work much."

"Mrs Sullivan, despite what happened tonight I know you are a wonderful mother. And believe me, Blake definitely takes after you, the resemblance is uncanny actually. Anyway, it was really nice to meet you and thank you for letting me into your home for tonight."

Ma leans over and hugs Aimee before she leaves and whispers something in Aimee's ear I don't quite catch. I walk her down to her car and say goodbye.

"Blake," she says as she stars her car to drive away, "I just want to say that your mother is wonderful, you are very lucky to have her. When all else fails remember that and try not to take it for granted." She squeezes my hand as she drives away. I can't see the car anymore but I can still feel her hand holding mine, her warmth against my skin. And I walk about inside to sit with Ma and suddenly realise that I already miss her.

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