Acid Rain

by R. D Rhodes

  “You see it all the time.” I said. “Parents who get upset with their children cause they’re not normal or don’t do sport, or don’t do whatever it is that they want them to do. Why can’t they see that every soul is an individual? I’d have a test. You want to have kids? Why? Because you’re bored? Because you don’t know what else to do? Because you need to live your life through another person? Just..because? No! Sorry. That’s not a good enough reason. No kids for you.”

  Harry sniggered. He brought his scarf up a little higher so it was over his mouth.

  “What? Too much for you?”

  “No no. I agree. Who would make those decisions, though? That’s the thing.”

  We reached the park and slowed. “Where will we go?” I wondered.

  “I dunno. I’m knackered. Want to see if we can get a few hours sleep till morning?”

  “Yeah. What about those bushes over there?”

  We walked over to the bushes and wondered alongside them. In the pale moonlight, I noticed a little opening inside, from which ran a little trail- probably used by kids as a den. I rolled up my sleeves and spread apart a few branches of the jagged gorse. They reminded me of our escape from the hospital.

  I stepped into the bushes and straining my eyes made my way along the trail. It was pitch black in there but whoever had created the path had beaten it out well. Most of the branches were above our heads and we only had to squat slightly. But as the trail went on the roots got more knarled and bent, and the needles poked and prodded from the un-cleared spaces. I pushed back the wayward branches and held them there till Harry could catch up.

  “Bet you’re glad you’re not in your t-shirt now?” I said.

  The trail receded till it came to a clearing in the middle of the bushes. A couple of old sleeping bags lay on the ground along with the odd pair of discarded socks and pants. It wasn’t a big space, barely enough for both of us to lie on, but there was little chance of us being found.

  I brushed my fingers along one of the sleeping bags. It was drenched. But the ground was spiky and uncomfortable so I zipped it open anyway and spread it out for a floor. Harry did the same with the other one, and we huddled together in the open.

  Chapter 29

  “It’s fucking baltick.”

  H e was right about that. I rolled over for the thousandth time and tried to get warm. I drew my knees in tight and buried my face in the sleeping bag, but it didn’t do any good. I sat up and looked round the circle of thorny bushes, feeling crappy and irritable.

  “What do you think the time is?” I said.

  “Bout five I guess.”

  “Have you slept at all?”

  “No, not a wink. You?”

  “I think I got about an hour or so. Jesus, it’s cold.” I blew out a stream of air and watched it rise and break away. “What do you want to do?”

  “Well, the night has almost finished now. I saw a few clothes recycling bins at Tesco too, I should have taken something. Man, I wish I had had a drink now.”

  It was a delayed reaction but something about the way he had said “baltick” triggered something in me. I joined up the chains of thoughts, “We’ve been so stupid.”

  “Eh?”

  “How could we not even notice? We’re the only Scots around for miles. The only Scots in that whole ward. That’s who they’ll be looking for, two young Scottish people, male and female, and we just told those kids!”

  Harry slapped his head. He smiled ruefully. “We’re fucking idiots.”

  “Well,” I reasoned, “nobody said anything, so it doesn’t sound like the hospital have put the word out yet. It would have been on the news.”

  “Just have to hope it stays that way.” Harry said.

  “See if we do make that train, and get on it for free, what will they do if they catch us not paying?”

  “Nothing. They’ll just punt us off at the next station.” He seemed nonplussed.

  I thought about it. “We have a little money now. We could get a cheap bus to London then get one of those megabuses to Glasgow?”

  “We could, but we don’t have enough for all that. We’ll be at least Fifteen pound each to London from here and, I don’t know, twenty-five each to Glasgow on top…Hey, what’s that look? Don’t worry about it.” He shimmied over and gave me a hug. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. We can’t hang about here any longer though. The sooner we leave the better and I’ve just got a feeling about that half three train.”

  He pulled back and rested on the sleeping bag. In the dark I could just make out his arm holding his black-figured head up.

  “How are you so calm?”

  “Eh? What do you mean?”

  “Since we outran those guys, and got to the woods up that hill, you’ve been calm as anything. If we get caught on, or before we even get to, this train, we are fucked. Yet you’re acting like some Zen Buddhist.”

  He laughed. A loud, vibrant laugh than rung out above the silent gorse and into the park. “This is just my life.” He explained. “This is what I’m used to. I feel most comfortable being on the move. In chaos. It’s the other times I get anxious, the sitting around and having to stay in one place.”

  “How come?”

  “Just my childhood, I guess. But maybe I would have been like that anyway.” His voice went flat, “It was when I was settled and happy that things went wrong. Whenever I started to like a family that fostered or adopted me, they moved me on again. I learned that I could never get too comfortable because something would go wrong quite quickly. And the abusive stuff too. The physical violence. Moving is just normal for me, has been since I was seven. It relaxes me.”

  “I didn’t know you were adopted.” I said. “So, your half-brothers, were they-

  “It’s complicated. My parents never wanted kids. I don’t know why they fucking did. I never asked to be born. But they didn’t think about it, like you were saying about that girl in the shelter and parents wanting dolls, not thinking about them growing up. Everyone just falls into the same old trap, living, fucking, procreating, dying. Like fucking rats. Instead of doing something constructive, or trying to change things, make the world better, people just keep popping out babies.” He paused, his face full of resentment. “One of the families I was fostered by only took me in because they got paid to do it. Guess how much?”

  I shrugged and stayed quiet.

  “Twenty grand a year! It was a common thing in the care homes I went to as well, at the time parents having kids because they got paid benefits for them all. And then social services had to take us away because they weren’t caring for us. You can’t believe it sometimes. All the things, the fuckin shitty things about evil men and immoral people you read about in books and see on films, nothing in them compares to life. This stuff is actually happening every day. We actually live in a world where you get paid to have kids. I just don’t have much faith in humanity. Everyone just looks out for number one. They come into the world and they just seek comfort, and when they get it, they want more comfort. That’s it.”

  It was such a long night. But finally the sky started to brighten and the birds started to sing and the moon faded away. We sat in there a bit longer, till we heard the rumble of the motorway in the distance and the increasing sound of traffic on the smaller road nearby. We agreed it was better not to hang about together, for the time being at least, and that it was best to go out individually. I let Harry go first. I waited in the bushes, then made my way out too and paced around the park. I circled the pond a few times. It was nice and quiet at that time. A few dog walkers past but I kept my head down and powered on and didn’t talk to them.

  When the blood had pumped through my veins enough and my feet and hands didn’t feel like ice blocks anymore, I glanced about and crouched back through the bushes.

  When Harry returned, it was with a Discount World bag and a cheap plastic watch on his wrist.

  “What’s in there?” I asked.

  He pulled the items out one by
one; a self-dye kit, a pair of scissors, a bottle of water, two cooking pots, and a pair of jeans. I picked up the hair dye and looked at the ingredients, “That’s our savior.” Harry said.

  I stood up and tried the jeans on while he poured water from the bottle into the pot. The jeans were a perfect fit, but I kept my jammy bottoms on underneath anyway, I needed all the layers I could get. I picked up my dye-kit. “You like dark-haired girls, do you?” He was busy stirring his own dye mix and didn’t reply. “What did you get?”

  Harry held up the packet.

  “Oh, very nice. Brown would suit you.”

  “You don’t think it’s too close to the original color? I could have got blonde, but I thought it would be too conspicuous.”

  “No, it’s fine. After all this, all we’ll have to do is not talk.”

  “We could be a band of travelling mutes.” Harry said.

  I measured out my own dye-to-water solution and mixed it up with my hand. I kept stirring till it churned into frothy black goo, then I scooped some out and generously applied it to my roots. While I waited on it setting, I took the scissors and started cutting Harry’s hair, chopping off the large dark curls till he was basically left with a crew cut. I applied the brown dye over what remained.

  While we waited, we read the local and tabloid newspapers Harry had bought, read almost every article twice, but there was no news on us. There was more likely to be something about me, but there was nothing. Nothing on Nina escaping or dying either. No mention of the hospital at all, in fact.

  “It’s strange.” I said.

  “They maybe want to keep it under wraps. Or maybe it came out in the papers yesterday. It’s good for us, anyway.”

  ------------

  We heard the joyful screams of a few infants in the park, and their mothers shouting after them. The sky turned overcast with white cloud but the warmth of the sun beat through it.

  We waited out the morning and until the noises had stopped. I went first. I crawled through the trail, checked outside, and walked out into the empty park. I exited the gate alone, heading along the cycle track towards the town centre.

  I felt nervous as hell. The thought of getting caught and going back to that hospital was too much, and as I left the park behind me-bushes on my right and affluent homes lining the other side of the road- I looked through their windows and focused on what was inside to distract myself.

  I tried to convince myself that there was hope. That in ten years it might be nice having all those fancy oak tables and desks in rooms in my own house, I might grow to like it all. I could maybe learn to ignore the fact that the forest had been destroyed for them to be taken. I could tell myself I deserved it. If I could just keep a nine to five that would keep my mind busy, I could learn to appreciate coming home to a little house of my own. In this world, you had to be at least a little materialistic to keep sane.

  Through a hall window a man and his son were standing at the bottom of the stairs, the man buttoning up his wee boy’s jacket. I felt a stab in my heart. Oh God, I missed my youth. How could I possibly feel such happiness again? I imagined that boy would be about to go out with his little mates to play football or rounders. And along with his pals they wouldn’t care about impressing girls, or how they looked, or what they had to do when they got home, or what responsibilities they had. All that mattered would be the present, and having fun and playing games. Maybe they would all go out to some den somewhere. Or dig trenches or underground tunnels. Or go on an epic adventure and be travellers and heroes for the day.

  Or maybe not. Maybe that parent was just taking him to the shop to buy a couple of steak bakes before coming back home to play Grand Theft Auto or go on Facebook. But what did I know? I kept walking. I had my hood up hiding my now black hair and I watched the cars and their drivers as they drove up and down the road. Then I spotted a police car coming my way. I almost froze. I stared at the pavement and kept walking as it passed me by.

  I turned the corner and headed up another street and soon was approaching the shops. After that I reached the station. I went in through the entrance and up the stairs under the domed roof. It was busy. I went up to the electric boards and scanned my eyes along each one.

  Glasgow. Stance 3. 3.35.

  Twenty minutes to wait.

  The masses around me stormed the station, running to catch trains or running away from them. All the hundred or so seats had been taken. People were sitting on them sipping coffee, or holding newspapers up that covered their faces as they were fed their opinions. I walked over to the waiting room hidden away next to Starbucks and pulled open the door. I went to a seat at the back and sat down.

  Ten minutes later I saw Harry standing outside. He slyly glanced me side-on then walked past. I stood up and left the waiting area and followed his back as he wandered into the large crowd assembling at the gate. There was the hiss and grind of steel on the tracks, and I looked up to see our train coming in. This is it. Here we go, I thought.

  The train stopped. The doors opened, and flumes of people poured out towards us. There was four ticket barriers, two for coming in, two for going out, and the folk getting off the train started to exit through the latter. The two ticket-checkers in luminous orange jackets stepped across and fiddled about with the machines. The light on our gates went from red to green and they stepped away to the side, chatting to each other.

  The first woman from our crowd stepped forward. I watched like a hawk as she inserted her ticket in the slot, retrieved it again when it popped out the top of the machine, then the gate swung open and she walked out the other side. The gate closed behind her and the next man stepped forward.

  I had almost three seconds.

  Further up the queue, Harry stood in his blue jumper and black scarf, positioned between two men. He snuck a glance at me and stepped further forward. He was almost at the front. The tall suited man before him reached the gate. My heart pounded and I looked quickly at the ticket guys- still they were talking and looking away. I held my breath. The man inserted his ticket, the gate swung open and, in the split second that followed, Harry stepped through.

  Phew! It had been close, he had basically rammed the guy’s ass he was glued so close behind him.

  But nobody said a word. The line kept moving.

  Now it was my turn. The queue edged forward. Harry glanced nervously back at me as he walked up the platform at the side of the train. In front of me was a peroxide-blonde girl not much older than myself. I looked her up and down and prayed God she wouldn’t let me down. She had her ticket pursed between her lips. She swayed her body slightly and I noticed her handbag emerge from her side. Fuck, I thought.

  She was next in line. I snatched a look at the old man behind me. He had warm kind eyes that were buried in The Daily Record. He didn’t look up. The girl stepped forward. Now was my chance. I fixed my eyes on her back and tried to keep as calm as possible. She took the ticket out of her mouth, stuck it in the machine, pulled it out and I darted in behind her. She lifted the bag. The gates swung open and I pushed through as fast as I could. I waited for them to close on me. But they didn’t. Fuck. I was in.

  I kept walking. The call I kept expecting never came. Harry was heading towards the front of the train. He slowed his pace and bent down to tie his laces.

  “Brilliant.” he said discreetly, as I drew near. “Keep calm, we’re almost half-way there. Try and get a window seat. And remember to stay asleep.”

  I walked past him and stood on the platform before one of the doors. They swung open and I stepped on board. The carriage was almost empty, only a few people sitting down. I roved my eyes up and down the aisles and went to take a seat by the window in the forward-facing position.

  A few minutes later, from the corner of my eye, a man stepped through the door and Harry appeared behind him. He looked at me and sat down about seven rows ahead. More people followed and the carriage filled up till it was almost full. A family sat at the table in the row in front. I p
ressed my face to the window and closed my eyes. The noise picked up. I heard the doors rolling shut and felt the train begin to move.

  Chapter 30

  I relaxed my face muscles against the window and partly opened my mouth, letting a slight drool wet the corner of my lips. My ears were like sonar systems and every decibel of noise seemed to increase five-fold as I waited for him or her to come. The family at the table in front started talking very loudly. Then they started munching on something. One of them pulled out a phone and shouted his conversation across the carriage.

  The tannoy crackled over him, “THIS TRAIN IS NOW APPROACHING GREENSBOROUGH. NEXT STOP GREENSBOROUGH.”

  The train slowed down. The doors beeped and I heard more people scuffle onto the carriage. Then a grinding, mechanical moan and the train started off again. I got a whiff of perfume and felt someone sit down next to me.

  “TICKETS PLEASE!”

  Shit. I kept my eyes closed. I breathed deep through my open mouth.

  “THANK YOU.” Click.

  “THANK YOU.” Click.

  “ALRITE! CHEERS! THANK YOU!”

  His voice got louder. I was sure I could hear the jangle of his bag. “THAT’S FINE. THANK YOU. THANK YOU.”

  I felt him close. His voice was right beside my ear. There was a movement from the person sat next to me.

  “THANK YOU.” Click.

  He seemed to linger for a moment. I felt my heart sink. Then his voice moved ahead to the next table, “THANK YOU. THANK YOU.” It got more distant as he stepped through the doors into the carriage in front.

  I was elated. It took all I could to suppress the smile that tried to spread itself across my lips.

  Twenty minutes on and we had passed another two stations. I wanted to relax but couldn’t, I knew we weren’t out of the woods yet. I peered out through a chink in my right eye at Harry- out for the count, slumped over in his chair.