“And look where that got you.”
“I’ll get back on my feet.”
“You’re kidding yourself. It’s always the ones who say that who never do. Trust me, I know a few, and never once-”
“You kid yourself with doubt, old Rum.”
“Shut up ya freak, and cut out that philosophical crap, it doesn’t make you look cool.”
“We have the power to do something here.”
“Do we? For all we know this guy has hopped to it already.”
Sierra stated, “Well, we did just see him a few hours ago. He did look pretty wasted but I doubt he went straight to it. Would seem like a waste of a suicide note.”
“Listen Rum,” Alex continued, “look at the note. Today is the 23rd of December, that’s when he repaid the loan. He obviously only wrote this note today, after repaying the loan. In the final section he says ‘I know it’s New Year’, That’s when he intends to carry it out. That’s eight days from tomorrow morning.”
“And in this eight days you want to follow bread crumbs, vague misleading bread crumbs?”
“If it helps.”
“You’re just another stupid charity boy, bet you never threw me any change when you were all happy in your college years.”
Sierra shrieked to rid these childish exchanges. “Be quiet! Will the two of you shut the hell up? We‘re not going to solve anything arguing so why not put it down to vote? Alex and I say we should do something about this, and of course you say we shouldn’t.”
At once a ray of attention swarmed upon Henry.
The lad cringed back, shielding himself beneath his blanket. “I … You want me to decide?”
“It’s two to one,” Alex stated. He hoped Henry would side with morality over his own minute sense of adventure, which was to say none.
Henry looked over at Rum who upheld a threatening stare with grinding teeth. Then he looked back to Sierra who sat there with a set of two wide, needy cerulean eyes. Then he turned to Alex, as he sat there, expressionless as ever.
Pulling back a deep breath, Henry closed his eyes and said, “I-I think we … should…”
Chapter 3
“Lousy Dud,” old Rum moaned, kicking ice along this sleet washed pathway.
It wasn’t really what they were doing that annoyed him. It was how Sierra insisted they leave first thing next morning. The biting pre-dawn chill in the air did little to boost morale.
Apparently this shop lay some two or three blocks away, near enough to where Sierra stole the wallet in the first place. Normally a journey such as this wouldn’t be a bother, except snowfall picked up the moment they set out. Steam from sewers ensured it reverted to liquid before solid placement could be maintained. It resulted in a brown sludgy sleet scattered around in places.
Henry already showed signs of regretting his own decision. “Are we nearly there yet?” he asked.
“You keep asking and I keep saying I’m not sure,” Sierra said.
“Well you said it wouldn’t take too long.”
“I said I wasn’t sure.” Sierra took another look at the note as if to reaffirm. “Let’s see, the shop is called … Jack Matters? Is it? I think that’s it. The handwriting’s so sloppy … like a child’s. If my thinking’s straight there’s a place called that somewhere around here. Can’t be coincidence.”
“Great, our only clue is a guess riding on another guess,” Rum said.
“And we’ll really be walking the whole way there?” Henry asked, slinking inwards as if the combination words alone brought fatigue.
“Well what do you suppose we do? Not like we got the money for a bus. We wouldn’t have to do any of this if you’d just sided with me in the first place.”
“Don’t listen to him Henry, he’s trying to trick you,” Sierra said.
“What about hitch-hiking?” Henry suggested.
“What sorry shit would pick up a pack of filthy beggars like us?” Rum stated.
“Hey, I don t beg,” Sierra protested.
“Either do I, but a lot of people would consider hanging around restaurants waiting for the next mound of garbage to come, as begging.”
Henry coughed. “Smoke!”
“If I had any you wouldn’t get one,” the old man snapped.
Alex sniffed the breeze. “He means there’s smoke in the air. There’s quite a bit, something‘s burning.”
They waited for a sign as if standing in wait for sunrise. It came on the horizon, a rim of flame consuming the dark morning sky. The orange glow rose over rooftops nearest to them, the smoke went up from there.
Alex pointed at it. “Looks like it’s just on the other side of those buildings.”
Standing staring like the others, Sierra mumbled, “Well … it is close by. Someone might be hurt.”
“Just some old building, I‘m sure the cats got out fine,” Rum said.
Alex walked toward it without another word.
Sierra followed Alex. “It couldn’t hurt to check, Rum.”
“What d’ya mean it couldn’t hurt!? It’s a bloody fire!”
Rum followed regardless. They cut through two alleys before arriving on the correct street, a main road lined with mundane box shaped buildings. It looked like a normal street, save one burning building decorating the morning air.
The atmosphere was one of eerie quiet, as though the villagers up and ran on the first sign of danger. It was still early, perhaps no one noticed yet, or perhaps no one cared. According to news reports mysterious fires were plenty common in this area. A gangland strife hung over the territory and local retailers often found themselves suffering in its wake. Whatever their reasons, the scene was one fire brigade short. This community bound neighbourhood seemed unlikely to resolve that issue.
The four homeless vented thoughts for a plan opposite the burning building. Sounds of collapse and rising sparks ticked like egg timer sand. Even with a wide road between they couldn’t help feel powerless against the flaring foreground.
Rum stared it down like a rodent to a cat’s gaping jaw. “So … any bright ideas? I’d suggest throwing cups of water but we can’t even afford those.”
Sierra stopped in a phase of deep broad eyed thought. “You know, I’m pretty sure that place we’re looking for was on this street. I don’t see it anywhere else so…”
Henry shuffled closer to the structure, listening ears pulling in what he could. “Does anyone hear a voice in there? I think I hear a voice. Someone’s in there.”
“Not a chance. Nobody could survive in there,” Rum said.
Lifting his coat against the heat, Henry braved nearer yet again. “It is a voice! Someone’s calling out!”
It came barely audible at first, a low muffled cry of someone who hardly could. It peaked to a point of greater notice then died to nothing.
Rum sniffed as if to ignore it. “It’s too early. The place wouldn’t even be open. Nobody would be in there.”
“I hear someone too,” Alex said, directing everyone’s attention to a laneway leading to a side entrance to the building. “The side gate’s been left open. Someone went in there recently.
Sierra stepped nearer to Henry and the burning building. “Hope you’re sure about this. We’ll probably have to do something.”
“I saw this in a movie once - the hero dies,” Rum said.
“It wouldn’t be right. We can’t walk away if there’s someone trapped,” Sierra protested.
Rum stroked his beard in contemplation. “Wait for the fire brigade. It’s their job, not ours.”
“If they’re planning on coming they’ll be a while. It doesn’t even look like anyone’s noticed this yet. Rum, can’t you do something?”
Rum backed off with hands up for defence. “To hell I say. I ain’t got nothing to do with this.”
“Alex?” she pleaded.
He didn’t respond, as though unable to hear over sounds of caving wood amidst the rasping blaze. A twitched glance at Sierra betrayed his sincerity.
Trapped i
n hopelessness, she yelled at the top of her voice, “Hello! Is anyone in there!? Can you hear me!?
“That ain’t gonna work, kid.”
“At least she’s trying to do something,” Henry yelled.
“That so? I don’t see you doing anything so don’t start saying shit like that to me. You’re the biggest pussy I’ve ever known so shut up and stay shut up.”
“I’m … not afraid.”
His own words forced him into an upright stance of realisation. A rush of adrenaline flushed through his blood, strengthening his bones. It wasn’t so much adrenaline but a memory of another time, another fire in another place.
He mumbled to himself, “Leon ran away … and someone died.”
His eyes locked on the side entrance. The concrete surface of the lane remained clear of fire. He found his legs moving without consent. He found himself plunging into the narrow passage. Behind, he could hear Sierra cry out for him:
“Henry, what are you doing you twat!?”
Her words faded to a muffled call under the crunching rasp of burning wood. It looked so easy from afar and for a moment Henry hesitated to turn back. The lane might have been clear but tips of flame dripped out like greedy hands stabbing at something to latch onto. Pulling his jacket over his head he rushed near blind until slamming against the end wall. He used his hands to push off and break through a door to the right. Fortunately it had been weakened by the heat or else he would have found himself bouncing straight back.
He ploughed through and landed flat on the floor, from where he glanced around. Flames tapered the room in an ominous glow, blocking paths and shrouding whatever persons waited inside. The interior seemed due to collapse into a scaffold topped pile of rubble.
Standing to a hunch, he coughed for choking smoke. “Hello! I can’t see very well - say something, please!”
It felt useless. The blaze alone grew far too raucous for anyone to hear. He could hardly hear himself.
“Please,” he coughed, “answer.”
Fallen to his knees, the concrete floor singed his palms. His heart grew weaker, regret and doubt choked that adrenaline dry. He found himself wondering what he was doing here. A distant cough broke the thought. It came from the opposite corner of the room.
Through a watery haze Henry could make out a man wearing a brown suit. He lay unmoving on the ground at the far end.
On sighting the target, Henry began to crawl, and crawl, then stand. Finding himself with a second wind, he ran then fell by the man’s side. Henry pulled and tugged the man to no avail. His skinny arms were no match for his robust figure. So he shook him, and shook, and shook him.
Henry could feel light breathing in the man’s chest. “Can you hear me? Please answer me! I’m not able to lift you. Please … answer me.”
The air was nearly gone from him. Henry felt his neck wobble. His eyes burned with smoke. They began to close. His body was weak. His back was on the ground.
***
Outside, the others spread about the perimeter in search of another way in. The laneway had already been consumed.
They regrouped at the front.
“That idiot!” Rum yelled. “What the hell does he think he’s doing? That stupid dud is gonna get himself killed.”
Alex began wrapping a jumper over his upper body. “That does seem quite the issue. Someone’s gonna have to bail Henry out and I don’t see you jumping for the task.”
“You’re mad. You can’t go in there. Wake up.”
“Wake me when I’m sane then.”
Alex ran with no more words to spare. He ran to the side lane without care for the flame. Fire drenching his pale skin, he aimlessly navigated to the end. He jumped through the very naked flames themselves to the kicked in door.
Bursting from the shield of heat he fell to the floor. The pain of his actions at once caught up with him, his arms stung with heat burn. Breaking into a coughing fit he crawled forward though he did not know the way. He inched over to the foot of a bare shelving unit, using it for leverage to stand.
Only had he carried himself to a safe distance a support beam came crashing down behind. It brought down a portion of the upper floor, blocking off the entrance point, and any possible retreat.
Glancing back at this crushed piece of hope, Alex called out in desperation. “Henry! Can you hear me?”
He stared hard against the grey curtain of smoke, eyes squinting – draining. His focus cleared enough to spot two people through the smoke. They lay flat on the ground, stiff like mannequins.
Alex reached them within an inch of his limits. He used what strength remained to weigh his circumstance. The rear entrance had been blocked by fallen debris. What segments didn’t fall creaked eerily on edge. His only hope lay on the main door up front being unlocked on this side. The slim chance alone he could manage, lugging both men the whole ten yards was the problem.
Sounds of give from the upper floor stirred his body to a second wind. He slung the larger stranger over shoulder and hung Henry under arm. He took a step in the right direction - a heavy, straining step.
Too late. The upper floor collapsed into an avalanche of household objects. A torrent of domestic memorabilia poured through the hole like sand in an hour glass. They piled then burned as to make the objects unrecognisable. It blocked a straight path to the exit and cast up fire like a defending blockade. The route to safety had been cut off.
Alex would have cursed, but couldn’t muster the strength for it. He slid to the floor, allowing the blistering emotion of total failure to take control of his being. He coughed once, and that would have been the end of it.
A blasting crash pummelled the room, rattling it like a snow globe. Further collapses began as if hastened and unified by the explosion. It might have been a gas canister for all he knew. For all he knew this might have been a fuel shop. What he saw was a new opening. That explosion cleared the flame and broke down a wall. He could see a way outside.
Alex heaved the others on, all the while watching the flame - how quickly it moved to regain lost territory. Collapsing wood belted over his back, small to large pieces pushing him down. He moved still, despite it all. Yet he moved slow, too slow.
The fire closed in and he’d not made half the distance. In his mind he forced himself to push on, until his legs buckled and he crumbled to his knees. To catch a moments rest he stayed there longer than he should have. The man he intended to save, instead lay limp on the ground as the fire crept ever closer.
Hands grabbed Alex around the waist and lifted him to his feet. In a haze, he found himself being carried through the opening then planted outside on a chilly sidewalk. Fallen back on the ground he chanced a glance up. He saw Rum running back inside to grab the unconscious man. Sierra dragged Henry out in kind.
Alex found his eyes opening and closing. Eyes open: he saw Rum place the other man by his side. Eyes closed: he heard voices calling and sirens ringing. Eyes open: he saw Rum helping Sierra carry Henry.
His head fell back against the stone. Eyes open: he lay there a moment, staring at the highest tips of the fire then down to a sign above the door. It burned like everything else but the words were clear. It read: Jack Matters’ basic supplies. When his vision lowered to ground level he saw the snow dotted with smashed bottles all of the same kind, some still lay unbroken and full, a tissue in the cap holding the liquid in.
Eyes closed.
Chapter 4
The darkness of morning brightened to mid-day. It came as no surprise, the doctor’s brief handling of Rum and Sierra. The two were rinsed through procedure then tossed to the waiting room. Communication broke off from there.
There seemed an unruliness to this hospital. In places, utensils lay on the floor near unattended gurneys, with unattended patients still in them. It looked as though the staff would drop their current task and dash off for another, leaving the previous patient in a forgotten state of purgatory. Rum labelled it a staff shortage issue during an observation based con
versation. They’d been having a lot of those. He and Sierra had been waiting hours now and topics of discussion began wearing thin.
On average, clinic time for the average bum tended to be ten to twenty minutes tops. This lengthy delay didn‘t seem to bode well for Alex and Henry.
***
Henry was starting to dislike hospitals, this one in particular. Upon being rushed here by ambulance they tossed him straight to a bed gurney. Following the procedural rubdown they gave an all clear and rolled him into this room. Other patients were dumped here too, dumped being the operative word. As Henry could tell the room appeared long enough to hold at least thirty patients, which failed to explain the odd forty or fifty sandwiched together.
One doctor monitored the room. From the way he kept entering and leaving he might have been tending another room besides this. Occasionally he would speak to someone outside the door, perhaps another member of staff.
Since Henry’s arrival, the doctor took a special kind of interest in him. Despite the other patients he would talk to Henry whenever passing. Each time he brought a new question to ask, varying from a personal level to medical history. It made him feel all the more flustered, as though under interrogation. But the doctor’s reassuring smile hinted of a genuine sincerity. He looked like a kind man.
After continuous on and off conversations, Henry had to ask, “Do they need me for anything else? Nobody’s said anything.”
The doctor scanned his clipboard. “I don’t see anything else here. Looks like all you need is a good rest.”
“So everything checks out?”
“You suffered some smoke inhalation and passed out. We got it under control so it shouldn’t be too serious.”
“But … it was a fire.”
“And you got lucky. Take a look around you, half the people in this room aren’t as lucky as you.”
“So … I’m going to be okay?”
“You should be fine. Although there was just … one problem … turns out I had to delay the end of my shift to help you. It’s no big deal really, except that my brother happens to be my replacement today so that means he gets extra time off. He has this annoying habit of rubbing in the slightest of victories. I wouldn’t be surprised to get home and find him laying back with a can of beer, just to get on my nerves. Oh, now I’m just babbling, sorry.”
A Vagrant Story Page 4