But I know that I won’t ever be able to make time go backward, because that’s just physics. So instead I just have to do the one thing that I can do.

“Now, folks, next up we’ve got a young fellow who’s come all the way from sunny Cornwall to perform for us here at the Duke for the Fringe. Ladies and gentlemen, would you be so kind as to put your beers down and your hands together for Little Big Man, in his brand-new show, Sausages and Gravitas. For one night only, Mr. Norrrrrman Forrrreman!”

I straighten my back the way Leonard showed me to, by pretending someone has a big, long string on the top of my head and is pulling it up really tight. Then I close my eyes and start to take in my best breath, just like Big Al taught me. Slowly, in through my nose without stopping, until I can feel the new air in the back of my throat, down to my chest, into my tummy, through my legs and right to the very end of my toes. Breath is life, Norman.

In between the spots in the back of my eyelids I can see Jax standing right in front of me. He leans forward so his nose is nearly touching mine and I feel a little whoosh of air when he blinks. The biggest breath I’ve ever taken is swirling around inside me and just when I think there’s no more room I take one more huge gulp of air, and I feel the last piece of scale on my chest split wide-open. Jax winks at me and then he’s gone. I open my eyes and look out to where a microphone, a spotlight and my mum are waiting for me.

I exhale in one giant whoosh and step out into the light. And now I’m breathing for two.

Notes for next year’s Fringe

SAUSAGES AND GRAVITAS:
A Second Helping

SO. FAMILY. (PAUSE for effect, Jaxy style, and for everyone to think about what might be coming.) There’s a part in my favorite book this year that says you can choose your friends but you sure can’t choose your family. And yeah, I know a few of you would probably say your home life might look a whole lot different if you could. Am I right? (Pause for laughter and agreement, hopefully.)

But actually, I did. Well, some of them anyhow. For a very long time my family was only me and my mum. No granny or grandpa, no uncles or aunties, no cousins. Not even a dog. I guess the closest we came to adding a few was the Summer of the Sea Monkeys. (Pause for laughter, although don’t bet on it. Note: find out how many people actually know about sea monkeys apart from me, Mum and Jax.)

And you know what? It was enough. It’s not like me and Mum set out to look for people to join our family on purpose. Except for my dad, of course. Although knowing who he was a little sooner might have helped me make a better choice when I picked a footy team to follow. (Pause for laughter.) As it was, the only advice I had to go on was secondhand from my mum, passed on from my grandad. (Pause for audience to wonder who my team is.) West Bromwich. I know. What can I say? I wish he was still alive so I could get an explanation. (Make eye contact with audience member, pause for more laughter. Hopefully.)