Eye of the Hybrid Storm
Spring 1995
'Am I going to survive long term?'
In the dark early hours of the morning, the deserted city streets stretched out in front of him. A sudden breeze whipped up dust and garbage, toyed with it momentarily, and then redistributed it across the empty pavements. A black cat ventured out to cross the street, caught sight of the headlights and quickly reversed direction, scurrying in between two dimly lit buildings. James Macrae felt invisible in his quiet Range Rover cabin, completely separated from the outside world. He was a silent observer scrutinising everyone and everything from a distance. It was a good time to reflect on his inner self as he tried to unpack his memory. The events of the last year had had a profound effect on him. He had been pushed to the brink of disaster. He had nearly lost his wife and the family business. His own actions had later shocked him, once the adrenaline and anxiety of what had occurred finally fell into the rear-view mirror. Now that the true reality had sunk in, a dark side to his character had emerged. His use of his own physical force, as well as the killing of two people, had been a revelation. ‘Have I really done that? Did I dream it?’ He had questioned himself repeatedly and the answer always came back the same. ‘Yes, you did.’
The traffic lights in front of him turned red. From a side street a garbage truck emerged, crossed the junction, and entered a flat yard. The truck lowered a set of hydraulic forks over the front of the cab and hoisted a large metal garbage bin into the rear of the truck body. The sound of the garbage falling into the body and the subsequent crash of the bin returning to the ground jolted James out of his dark, reflective mood. He shook his head. Feeling more in the moment, he further reflected that his past actions had been fully justified. If he looked back at his earlier life, he hadn’t been pushed around by anybody. He had always stood his ground. He wasn’t so shocked anymore at what he had done. ‘I guess this is who I really am,’ he murmured to himself, ‘and what’s more I would do it again if I had to.’
His introspective mood started to lift as he felt his confidence growing. He turned on the radio tuning into BRMB, the local Birmingham station. They started to play Glenn Frey’s song, ‘You Belong To The City’. The lonely drawling notes of the saxophone introduction added to his sense of isolation and then each word of the song hit him head-on. Listening intently to every single lyric, it was as though Glenn Frey had written the song exclusively about him.
As the traffic light changed to green, James slowly accelerated his vehicle. The road widened and straightened out in front of him. A series of junctions, each with their own set of traffic lights came into his vision. The intelligent traffic control signals on this section of the city were synchronised and sequenced for approaching vehicles in this early hour of the morning. The lights ahead turned green every time he approached a junction. By the time James arrived at work at 1:00am, ready to liaise with his overseas terminals, he was singing along with the song. He smiled to himself. He was going to be alright after all. At least that was what his present mood told him. If he was honest, deep down inside, he still had a sense of foreboding.
