France ~ Dordogne – 1996
You may note that this is a tale that dates back to some time ago – in fact it is from the dusty shelves of the Taggart family archives ~ so you could say we’re going in a time machine all the way back to 1996(ish)…yes, so you’ll have to picture me as a little four…or maybe five year old…actually, maybe even six year old! (I have literally no clue!) Strange, I don’t really have too many memories of the early years of my life; I think most of them are just made up ones fabricated by looking at old photos and imagining the scenes they depict…actually, I do recall as a very, very young child scampering up to my Mother sobbing; claiming that I was not a human at all, and was in fact a robot -my proof being that I could see mechanical cogs spinning in circular cycles inside my head, and could only see black and green stripes due to my limited robotic vision…what would I do? What kind of life does a robot have in this world? How do robots pee…eat…BREATHE?! I remember the horror at seeing her immediate reaction, which was of course to laugh…and tell me that it was just a figment of my bizarre imagination – but I was never truly convinced…hmm…
So no, no real early memories – I hope that isn’t my brain blocking out something horrific…come to think of it maybe I was tested on by mad scientists, possibly even aliens…that would actually explain a lot. No proof yet though…YET.
Anyway, sorry I got a little sidetracked there – so yes, I was a young child of an unconfirmed age – and we were on a family holiday at a family friend’s holiday home in the Dordogne, France – it’s who you know! We went there a few times during our long summer school breaks, it was a lovely place – a detached country home with a vast garden, surrounded by crop fields that were a great place to play and run around in…and inevitably, get lost and cry. Naturally there was the river Dordogne just down the road which was invariably packed out on a hot summer’s day – full to the brim with reddish brown bodies, lying on a multitude of towels to try and dull the harshness of the rough rocks beneath…I was always a little bit surprised, sorry ~ understatement of the century! I was always completely freaked out by European sunbathing customs as a young child – the whole thing was always such an awkward strange process that seemed to strike at anytime when I least expected it…it’d be like…
…ahhh just walking along, hopefully we get an ice cream later, hmm that kid has a ball, I want a ball, oh that lady has nice sunglas-WHOAAAAAAA WHAAAAT?! Don’t look…but why? Don’t look…keep walking…why? …Mam why does…never mind…don’t look…they’re…wrinkled…but…I don’t…
Thankfully I am a little better with that kind of thing these days, but honestly not by a tremendous degree. Safe to say that on the day in question I saw many a woman, and man actually (some with just as large assets), with everything out – I found it bizarre that you just had to act like this was fine, normal in fact…“it’s just what they do here John” – I nodded in agreement as if everything made sense now…but was still mystified as to what strange section of the world we were making our way through, and when it was that we would be able to return to England: the land of fully clothed people and eternal winter.
Once we got to what would be “our spot”, my sister immediately suggested we escape and play in the river – I was in the mindset that I would do anything to get away from the sunbathers that surrounded us, so naturally I automatically agreed and fled to the safety of the water…while my Mother shouted about sunhats, sun cream and not going out of sight (this fell on deaf ears). In the river there is a limited a limited selection of games to play especially for weak swimmers – so after five or ten minuted of splashing each, we grew bored and opted for a switch to a fun game of…pretend to drown. Let me run you through the rules in case you are unfamiliar with this classic, which truly is fun for all the family…so what you do is this, you edge close to the strongest part of the river, (extra points if you are on your tip-toes and can barely keep your nose above water) and take it in turns to put your head under the water…you then wait a while (you know just so the drowning thing is actually believable, otherwise what’s the point?!) You then float to the surface as if you are a dead corpse…until you can’t take the whole not breathing thing any more, and then flip back upright so that the other player can rate your theatrical performance and then take their turn! I’m sure you’d agree that it is a joy-filled game! The best thing about it is that there is no potential for anything to ever go wrong, ever. Well…you know…or so we thought…I mean, it’s just a game, right?
My sister had just taken had her go,;she had flailed around quite impressively and had even added a few big bubbles out – a pretty good performance – but I was confident I could go one better…I stepped back and started to wobble, “ohh-arghhhh!” I screamed out, my sister nodded in a nice touch kind of way – I began to pull myself under the water in between shrieks, poking my head up in intervals as if I was battling with a creature that was biting at my ankles, attempting to drag me into the watery depths…my hand came up in a final push of determined life…this was like a film scene, this thing would win awards…is anyone filming this?! My mandatory after-float was also something straight from a blockbuster classic, I was motionless – head in the water, totally without life…hold on…hold on…argh! That was all I could take, so in one motion I rolled over and forced my head above the water to take a gasp of precious air. Phew, better. My sister began to applaud frenetically, paying homage to my masterpiece – I smiled broadly as I began my doggy paddle back to safety…but only briefly – the current was far too strong, and pushed with great force against my weak strokes – my automatic reaction was to attempt to place my feet on the ground for safety – but my short little stumps didn’t reach…that’s when the river pushed me away with brute force and I was gone for good…the last thing I saw before I fell to the depths was my sister’s grin…I suppose she thought this was an encore.
There were swirls of greenish blue bubbles all around me as the water pressured my desperate limbs down and rendered me obsolete. I could hear muffled screams from the surface, but they were far in the distance. I swallowed gulp after gulp of river liquid as I tried (in vain) to draw some oxygen from my uncompromising environment. No luck.
Just as I had given up, a powerful arm shot through the water and grabbed at my neck – what now?! Shark? Mermaid? Monster? Shark mermaid monster?! WHAT?! I swallowed one last gulp and…
As I burst awake I couldn’t help but spit and splutter everywhere, I went to sit up – but was pushed back down, this was followed by something slobbering on my lips – URGHHHHH! I shook around and waggled my feeble arms in a show of disagreement, I could barely see anything due to the thing that was blocking out most of the light…I squinted…squinted again…squinted once more…what was that? Who is…what?!
The creature jabbered wildly in some strange alien language, as I coughed up the river I had swallowed, but it eventually moved back to a place which I could make it out..oh God…the creature…the mermaid…the thing that had just saved my life, was one of those sunbather ladies I had tried not to look at on my way in. Now she wouldn’t stop talking, and kept trying to get into my eye line every single time I attempted to look away (out of taught politeness)…honestly, my neck moved around so much it began to ache. I began to cry probably and after what seemed like forever my family came sauntering over in a disturbingly nonchalant way…
The mermaid explained what had happened to my Dad, who laughed and patted me on the back after seeing I was still alive (so no problem.)
Once we got back to the house, I slowly began to recover from my initial trauma…my breathing became normal, and after a little while I stopped my uncontrollable shivering…but I wasn’t in the clear yet…this was just the start. “John was kissing the lady, hahaha! John and the French lady sitting in the tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” my sister jeered…
My Mam and Dad’s jokes were of a nature I didn’t comprehend till thinking back to it almost ten years later…it was all – “OOOH! Nice one John! Ladykiller!” etc, etc…I may not have had a clue what they were on about, but I knew it was probably offensive and started wailing anyway, begging them to stop with the bad jokes. They didn’t.
Mind, with all that said…who one the game? Exactly – almost dying – that’s dedication for ya!
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John Lee Taggart 
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