Short Story: Randall in the Army

A few months ago I was sorting through some old notebooks and found a short story I wrote in grade 11. I thought I'd type it up and share it here since I'm actually pretty proud of 16-year-old-Amie's efforts. Enjoy.

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Randall in the Army

by Amie Gill (2001)

Randall had always been the quiet type. And as the Major stared him down from behind his large oak desk Randall sat quietly. Whether it was out of fear or bravery, Major West could not be sure. The question he had asked was simple, “Whose fault was the accident?” Randall knew the answer. He was present when it had happened. Although, the term 'accident' was debatable.

It had been a cool afternoon, unusual for this particular time of year, and the boys from the unit were in a rather jovial mood. It was Roger Smith who had first suggested they head down to the lake. The rest of the company had met the suggestion with much enthusiasm and in no time they were swimming, and playing cards under the trees surrounding the lake. As the afternoon progressed men scuttled back and forth providing everyone with snacks and refreshments. Soon enough not one man was sober and the swimming and innocent card games had descended into nude dips and gambling.

It wasn't unusual to see this sort of activity around the barracks. Even Major West had participated in such goings on in his youth. Now, however, as a hardened Major he wouldn't have a bar of it. As darkness set in and drinking continued, wild ideas were bandied around. Most were met with hysterical laughter. However, it didn't take long for someone to take things too far. When it was suggested that someone obtain a few sticks of dynamite and create somewhat of a water feature in the lake it was first greeted, as were the previous ideas, with laughter. When a few men disappeared from the proceedings it certainly didn't arouse suspicion.

By this time news of the gathering had reached Major West. Upset at having his bubble bath interrupted, he pulled on his robe and began his march towards the lake. As he got closer the sound of loud laughter and shouting filled the air. Anger built up within him and his face contorted. The sounds grew louder until he was hit with an unwelcome silence. Major West often relied on the element of surprise and now it looked as though he had been discovered.

It was soon painfully obvious that his presence had nothing to do with the silence though when it was broken by the sudden cry of “Run for it!” and the men came rushing up the bank towards him. As they ran past, all with shocked faces, they didn't even notice Major West until Randall collided with him. The other men running past as Randall rolled about on top of the Major.

“What the hell is going on here?” Major West shouted. By this time he was absolutely infuriated. His shouting, however, was in vain as the situation was soon explained to some degree by the sounds of water and a huge explosion. What was once the lake now covered Major West and Randall as well as most of the surrounding area. Thankfully nobody was injured. This fact, however, seemed to incense Major West further. “You should have all been killed,” he yelled. “At least it would have rid the world of your great stupidity!”

Now, all Major West was interested in was finding out who was responsible. Randall sat upright in the large leather chair opposite him, staring blankly. “I don't want to have to repeat myself,” said the Major sternly. Randall leaned to his right, his small green body unable to keep balance on the large chair. “Are you listening to me, son?” Major West shouted. Randall toppled over in the chair.

“Damn cucumbers!” screamed the Major. “Meant for salads, not the army!”

Gaming, 'gimping' and my irregular gait

In a recent episode of Good Game I was introduced to a new term. 'Gimping'. Apparently it means to play as a character stripped of skills and abilities. But it also means something else. Something incredibly offensive to myself and many others. Because 'gimp' is an ableist slur.

'Gimp' is a derogatory word used against people with disabilities that affect their walking. 'Gimping' is used to describe the way in which such a person may walk. I often walk with an irregular gait and sometimes limp thanks to ankylosing spondylitis (a form of arthritis). This could, if someone wanted to be an ableist jerk, be described as 'gimping'. To use that particular word to describe limiting a gamer's abilities trivialises the lived experiences of myself and countless others. It tells us that our feelings are unimportant and we are 'other' and 'less than'.

I'll go out on a limb and suggest that a lot of gamers probably don't care about people with disabilities. Lord knows a lot don't care about other marginalised groups. But I like to think, hope even, that we can change that. The fact that Good Game (and others - a quick search of Kotaku Australia yielded three instances, Gamasutra fourteen) uncritically repeated a term like 'gimping' only serves to legitimise its use. There has already been a call for Good Game to apologise. Personally, I'd just like to see an acknowledgement that people with disabilities do actually play videogames and we shouldn't have to put up with language rooted in ableism.

"Look, Mum, I'm on the internet!" and Lamington National Park

My first actual blog post! Well, if I'm not counting those other now defunct blogs. But this one will be different, damn it. I'm writing it for myself, about things I love, with a no pressure approach. So, don't expect a fancy post schedule or anything because that's just not how I roll. Do expect somewhat sporadic posts about food, fashion, craft, travel, literature, academia, feminist issues and whatever the hell else I feel like posting. And general awesomeness.

Photo of the view from the Green Mountains.

So, on Sunday Matt and I went for a drive to Lamington National Park so that I could get some inspiration for a writing exercise I had due this week. I had to write 500 words describing a place and I was kind of stumped as to what to write about. Well, there was plenty of inspiration to be had up there and here's what I ended up submitting:

After winding around terrifyingly sharp bends for what felt like hours, the car finally reached the top of the mountain and entered Lamington National Park and the dry brown grass and tall eucalypts by the side of the road turned into lush green rainforest. It had taken a mere two hours to reach this paradise, but it felt as though the stresses of the city were a lifetime away. The air was cooler. Clearer. Lighter. The only thing that concerned us in that moment was the road ahead. Soon enough the rainforest cleared to reveal a picturesque view of the valleys and mountains in the distance. Like a watercolour painting, soft shades of grey and blue washed over the distant landscape. The sun shone high in the sky, the glare giving everything a soft glow.

Photo of alpacas in a grass paddock.

We stopped to visit a local alpaca farm and take in the calming yet invigorating scenery. The alpacas were nonchalant. Some lazed in the sun, others in the shade and some scratched themselves while others chewed at the thick grass covering the rolling hill that was their paddock. A pair of crias sat apart from the rest near a small tree. When still they looked like plush toy versions of themselves; their fur perfectly fluffy and their eyes deep and glassy. Until they came to life and moved about with springy youthfulness. All the while comforted by the soothing hums of the older animals. We sat on a large greying wooden deck at the back of the gift shop and ate pies. A waterhole glistened a little way down the hill. A golden retriever puppy chased hens in a paddock to our left. The alpacas hummed and honked to our right. The pies were delicious.

Photo of a cute puppy behind a wire fence.

After lunch we drove further up the mountain to O’Reilly’s Rainforest Retreat. Like a little village in the sky, it was bustling with tourists and day-trippers all hurriedly trying to relax. We ventured away from the complex and along the Booyong boardwalk through the forest where it was quiet except for the sounds of birds foraging in the undergrowth, occasionally chirping their distinct and individual calls. The air smelled fresh and new. We spoke in whispers. Pointing out different plants and birds. The boardwalk turned into a tree top suspension bridge at the base of a giant strangler fig, children playing inside it’s sturdy trunk, birds twittering about in it’s branches. Apprehensively, we walked made our way along the bridge and it creaked and undulated beneath our feet. It felt as if we were a part of the forest. Any fear of heights I had faded away so that only awe was left.

Photo of Matt on the tree top suspension bridge.

Afterwards we headed back to O’Reilly’s to the cafe for an afternoon tea of scones with strawberry jam and whipped cream. As we sat eating on the balcony and taking in the breathtaking view one last time a flock of magpies cooed and warbled playfully in the trees below as if putting on a show for us. I was disappointed that they didn’t sell lamingtons at the cafe, but the scones were satisfying nonetheless.

Photo of scones with strawberry jam and whipped cream.

I think it's kind of wanky and there are parts I wish I could rewrite, but it's submitted now. I really did have a great time on Sunday though. Even if they didn't sell lamingtons at the cafe and I didn't get to hug an alpaca. I've decided that hugging an alpaca is my new ~life goal~. Alpacas are the coolest.

Photo of a white alpaca up close.

Lamington National Park is about 2 hours drive from Brisbane or 90 minutes from the Gold Coast.

Mountainview Alpaca Farm is totally awesome and has a giftshop with amazing alpaca wool products and cafe with great pies.

O'Reilly's is very touristy, but it's an excellent starting point for checking out the tree top walk and botanic gardens (which are both maintained by the Green Mountains Natural History Association thanks to volunteers and donations) and there's an information kiosk with walking/trekking maps and stuff too.