A Vagrant Story

by Paul Croasdell

  “The police! Good God you are delusional. I could beat your head into this pathway and the cops would throw you in a cell for the night. The police won’t take your word over mine.”

  That statement cut it most. Through all the man’s bullshit rambling this was one statement he knew to be true, or one repeated to him so frequently he’d come to recognise it as. In the end it would come down to whoever yelled the loudest to the police, and Alex’s voice had turned coarse and no longer up for the task.

  Alex felt his fists tighten till nails pierced skin. He felt his teeth grit against one another till it hurt. He felt his eyes circle in on the man’s throat so that his hands could find a good grip on his larynx. He closed his eyes.

  “They’re all the same. Bastards,” Alex spoke through teeth. “It was mine. Give it back. You bastards!”

  Alex punched the man across chin sending him to the ground. He followed through as intended, wrapping large hands around small throat and squeezing so the man gasped, arms flailing in all manner of apologetic movements one could be capable of in such a state. Again Alex hit him down, beating him again and again, harder till the man’s face swamped with blood, till his mouth spilled over with it.

  “You bastard!” he yelled, face awash in the red splashes he created. “It’s mine!” he cried, voice distant from the scene in front of his eyes. “You’d no right! It was mine! It’s mine! It’s mine, you bastard, it’s mine!”

  It was the man’s own fault. Not because of his ill-view of homeless people. No. Half this beating would pay for that in full. It was the man’s eyes that prevented Alex from stopping. His eyes, and the way his face twisted with all the innocence one man could feel, as if wondering, with each blow wondering what he did to deserve such treatment. It wasn’t an act. He really didn’t understand. That would have been the last facial expression he ever made. When the police found him the next morning they’d find the face of an innocent man, perhaps beaten to death in some random attack.

  Or they would have, had a pair of hands not grabbed Alex around the waist and pulled him backward. Alex kept swinging fists in the air in effort to escape the hold. Alex continued swinging even as the beaten man crawled away, holding his head as if to stop it from splitting in two.

  “Bastard! You bastard!” Alex continued to cry.

  “Hey now, I think he’s had enough,” the person who held onto him said, a crude stench of alcohol oozing out with a gritty aged voice.

  Alex could feel the hands around his waist loosen so that he could turn and look at his captor … or saviour. There was actually two of them. The man who held him wore a short grizzled beard over an array of wrinkles. His long green trench coat seemed to be in equal condition. A girl stood by his side, smaller than his shoulder height, short but somewhat plump in her physique. Though it might have been the many layers of clothes she wore against this harsh Winter cold. Odd though how her blonde hair seemed to glimmer in this night, even as it barely peaked from under the green ear flap hat she wore over it.

  “He isn’t worth it,” the blonde girl said, resting her hand on his shoulder.

  “You saw what he did!” Alex replied, hand shaking with the release of adrenaline.

  “Yeah, the guy’s a dick, but he’s had enough. It isn’t worth killing him over. I hate to sound cliché and all but … if you keep this up you’ll be no better than he is.”

  “Come on guy,” the older, bearded man said. “Come with us. Come back to our place and we’ll fix you with a cup of coffee.”

  Alex evaluated each of them and decided a moment after. “You … have coffee? I … like coffee. I haven’t tasted it in a days.”

  “Well yeah … it’s sort of like coffee,” the bearded man stated.

  “It’s at your house?”

  “Well … it’s sort of like a house,” the blonde girl replied. “It’s in the middle of Middle Park. You’ll like it.”

  “Middle Park? So … you’re homeless then?”

  “Yeah,” the girl answered. “Welcome to the club.”

  ***

  Alex sighed. He had tried to forget about that incident. Though considering the other tragedies in his life this one hardly rippled the surface of the waves. Between arson and murder one harmless assault shouldn’t stand out. Yet it still mattered to him. It mattered because he meant to do it. He never intended to burn down the building, he never meant to shoot the agent that night all those years ago. Up until that particular incident he always allowed himself to be carried along by the tide.

  Beating that man, that was the moment he refused to be carried anymore, and for the first time, willingly performed his own dirty work. It never stopped either. Once he tapped his inner strength any reason became a good reason for a fight.

  Alex dug deeper under bed sheets and fell into his pillow in an attempt distract his thoughts. He’d hardly been awake an hour and already those negative images came flooding back. They’d started to give him something of a migraine, though it might have been whatever medication the nurse had been feeding him. It did the trick, regardless. His coughing ceased and he didn’t feel so drowsy, it was just his head now, though he’d daren’t say it to the doctor in case they took this private room away. It was a single bed, single cabinet, single window setup but all in all it beat those elongated chicken pens they called infirmary wards. He’d gotten kind of lucky this time. Since this was New Year’s Eve most of the larger wards on the lower floors were likely reserved for drink related incidents while the more legit patients were kept separate on higher floors. He’d thought it would be the other way around since, naturally, the more serious patients would need faster attention. Then again, he found it hard to picture all two nurses on duty carrying one hundred or so drunks up to the top floors. It would be an easier task provided the patients couldn’t move.

  Some firm but polite knocks on the door suggested it was time for another jab. A nurse dressed in the regular attire opened the door but kept her trolley outside. She shrugged.

  “You have some … visitors.”

  “Who?”

  She shrugged again and stepped out of the way before Sierra could push her there. Henry followed with Rum shortly after. Rum turned to give the nurse a warding glare but she didn’t stay long enough to catch it.

  “Lazy bitch could at least ask who we are,” he said.

  “Give her a break, she’s working on New Years,” Alex replied.

  “So you can talk now, that’s good.”

  “Barely. I only woke up an hour ago. The doc said he’d let me rest a few before he’d let my visitors get me - that‘d be you fine people.”

  “We kind of got ahead of ourselves,” Sierra said. “Sorry.”

  “No matter. A little conversation won’t kill me.”

  “So?”

  “So what?”

  “So what did the doctor say?”

  “He said I’m fine.”

  “Alex! Stop lying, you are not fine.”

  “I said I’m fine, so I’m fine.”

  “You’re not going to tell us.”

  “Would it matter? The long and short of it is I need to stay out of the cold, get plenty of rest and fill up on vitamins. Maybe you didn’t notice but our lifestyle doesn’t exactly tie in with all that.”

  “We could have-”

  “Taken me to the hospital - this hospital? I’d be in the same place I am now.”

  “I wouldn’t have dragged you across the city if I knew.”

  “Forget about it. Even if we failed to do what we set out to do, going all that way was the most worthwhile thing I’ve done in years. Sure, I had hoped stopping John would grant me some redeeming features before I die, but I guess the powers that be have something else in mind.”

  Sierra gripped the bed sheets and leaned closer to Alex. “What do you mean before you die?”

  “Calm down, I was being poetic.”

  “Can the theatrics!“ Rum yelled, stepping to his bedside. He leaned down till that grizzle of
his almost touched the tall man’s cheek. Breath most fowl oozed upon the stricken fellow, as Rum intended. “Answer the damn question straight and quit acting like a freak.”

  “Now’s not the time for this, Rum,” Sierra pleaded.

  “Leave him to it. Wouldn’t feel right without it.”

  “I hate when you just take it like that. Acceptance. I hate acceptance.”

  “Only because you want me to fight back. You can’t live without trouble.”

  “Neither of you can,” Sierra said.

  An announcing cough sounded from the door bringing the matter to a close. A blonde doctor in white coat entered with notepad in hand. He walked past the visitors to join his patient at bedside.

  “If the inquisitions are over, I think my patient would like to rest. I‘m his attending, doctor Franklin. Call me Adam.”

  “It’s no problem,” Alex said.

  Doctor Adam touched Alex on the forehead and set about scribbling on his notepad. “Not for you, but we have waiting rooms for a reason. We can’t have visitors wandering around the corridors.”

  “Just sitting in them,“ Rum stated.

  “I apologise for how the waiting areas are set up. I’m afraid we had to reserve the real waiting rooms to hold the overflow.”

  “Looks pretty quiet tonight.”

  “It is … at least for the moment.

  “Then why not open them back up?”

  “I’m afraid we can’t get the doors open. The waiting room doors are electronically locked, you see. Most doors in here are. We hadn‘t counted on this power outage.”

  “Maybe you should have just cut back on the amenities and focussed on the patients. You go all high tech now you haven‘t the power to run the damn place.”

  “It could have been worse. At least no one’s dying tonight.”

  “You actually have enough power for the patients?”

  “We’ve managed to reserve enough power to take care of them, fortunately. Certain ‘amenities’ had to be cut, however.”

  “Like the electronic doors? What else you cut?”

  “Televisions, rest rooms, electrical security systems and … lighting.”

  “Security and lighting … those are some amenities.”

  “They aren’t necessary for the time being. We’re focusing on keeping what our patients need to survive.”

  “That’s good to hear, at least. Good to know this place isn’t all bad.”

  “It might surprise you to know that not all the people remaining here are totally incompetent. I do what I can, that’s all I can do.”

  Sierra leaned toward the doctor. “But what kind of hospital runs out of power anyway? It’s good you’re doing your best but come on, this isn’t the dark ages, doc.”

  “It’s a poor hospital being exploited by a company that doesn‘t know when to quit.”

  “Sorry,” Rum said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m sorry for your troubles.”

  The doctor nodded. “We’re not really sure what happened to the generator. It’s frozen, old, rusted so take your pick. The engineers are on their way now, but the roads out there are … so they might be a while.”

  The doctor placed his notepad under arm and moved away from Alex. “Well, it looks like you’ve stabilised, for the moment at least. We’ll keep you topped with medication until you recuperate fully.“

  “Thanks doc.”

  “I have to run my rounds over the rest of this floor so I probably won’t see you for a while. Talk to the nurse if you need anything.”

  “You work this whole floor?” Alex asked.

  “Most of the staff are handling the lower floors right now. At night I work the top floor with my brother. He’s a doctor here too.”

  “The two of you must be good.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “You said all the serious patients are on the top floor. They must trust the two of you to handle them.”

  The doctor smiled. “That’s a good ear you got there.”

  “Hey doc, one more thing…”

  “Yes?”

  “How do I call the nurse?”

  “Well you just press the alarm button beside…” He paused. “Well, not at the moment anyway.”

  “Would that be one of those amenities too?”

  The doctor bowed in his slow retreat from the room. “Sorry. I’ll see you again.”

  Conversation resumed when the doctor left.

  “You think he has a problem with us being here?” Sierra asked.

  “His problem’s with our questions,” Rum replied.

  “I’m sure it’s fine,” Alex said. “He’s a really good doctor - not like the others at all.”

  “He might be the best doctor in this place, that don’t mean he’s any good.”

  “You seemed pretty impressed last time you saw him in action.”

  Rum stared the tall man down. “Am I supposed to ask what that means now?”

  “Of course, you wouldn’t remember. He’s the same doctor who helped that pregnant woman after she crashed her car.”

  “You mean after we first left the hospital. You can remember his face?”

  Alex raised an eye.

  “Of course you do.”

  Henry stepped out from the shadows, where he so often found himself residing. “It is him. I recognise the face.”

  “You should have said something,” Sierra said.

  “What good would it do?”

  “We could get first preference. I mean, if you hadn’t given him those pills he never would stopped the pregnant woman from kicking. He owes you.”

  “That’s sort of why I stayed quiet. Thing is, you see, I wasn’t really supposed to have those pills in the first place. Back at the crash he seemed really surprised I had them. He actually told me to go back to the hospital.”

  “It’s probably for the best he didn’t recognise you then.”

  “I just don’t want him to start asking me questions. That’s all.”

  Chapter 31

  It would be midnight soon. Contrary to their expectations the hospital remained relatively empty, save the occasional nurse wandering like a ghost amidst candlelight. The quiet proved to their advantage. With Alex fast asleep the three bums were left with little else to do bar skulk around in the halls, not that the staff would bother stopping them in the first place.

  Sierra left Rum to his own devices. Not that it was her choice, the man just fell asleep in one of the waiting areas. As for Henry, she hadn‘t seen him since visiting Alex. She left it that way. Truth be told she thought he might need some time to himself, like herself. Right now Alex wasn’t the only one in need of a break.

  Sierra wrapped her scarf tighter and breathed a warm breath, the greatest warmth in this place. Despite the odd candle the corridors were shaded with a grim tone of darkness. One that did little to conceal faded wall paint and cracked tiled flooring. It looked like an abandoned warehouse. An odd wonder she didn’t find herself confronted with roaming crack addicts.

  A horrible groaning snagged her to a halt. It came from a stairwell and seemed to be coming up. It stumbled over the top step then stared at her through thick glasses. Its name was Henry, and he appeared to be sweating.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Sierra, I was … I got lost.”

  “Why are you sweating?”

  “I got a little frustrated so … I started running.”

  “And how would that … Never mind. What are you doing now? You want to come with me?”

  Henry propped up with surprise. “You want me to go with you? Why? I mean, where?”

  “To the roof. I want to see what the view is like.”

  No one was around to stop them. And even if they didn’t need to hurry up the stairwell Henry still found himself fatigued upon arrival at the top. None the less he did open the roof access door in a genteel manner for Sierra, assuming it wouldn‘t be a draining task. He hadn’t foreseen
the foot or so of snow on the other side.

  Door open, and Henry again humbled to a panting state, Sierra skipped over the threshold into a blinding force of cold. “Thank you.” She sighed. “I didn’t think it’d be so cold.”

  Henry shivered more dramatically than Sierra. “W-well, we are p-pretty high up. We c-can stay warm if we stay near those things.” He pointed toward some tin ventilation pipes leaking trace amounts of steam, no doubt intended to melt the snow to a safe level.

  Sierra nodded, walking over to one near the building’s edge. She stopped to acknowledge two supply crates placed near the parapet. Both had been lazily covered with a blue sheet, almost like a bed sheet.

  “Stupid bastards. What kind of idiot hospital staff would leave two supply crates in a place like this?”

  “They probably ran out of storage space inside.”

  “Whatever happened it looks like they’ve been forgotten which means someone lost out on medication. Hope nobody died.”

  The girl shrugged it off, turning to lean on the parapet. She gazed out through the night toward Middle Park. “We won’t stay here long. I can’t see anything with this weather.”

  A light wind blew, and in its hale a flurry of snow washed over the buildings in view. It pulled with it a sudden quiet, and for this moment she and Henry could have been the only people in this city. At the very least this view would be for their eyes only.

  “Lazy bastard,” Sierra mumbled.

  Still panting slightly Henry approached her side. “What did I do?”

  “Not you - Rum. He fell asleep and left me on my own. He knows I’d be bored without him.”

  “I see now.”

  “You see what?”

  “That’s why you asked me up here, because no one else was around.”

  “Yeah, that’s the reason.”

  “I thought so.”

  “It was a joke. Come on Henry, relax a little.”

  “It wasn’t a joke. You never talk to me.”

  “We talk all the time.”

  “No, you talk to Rum. You talk to Alex.”

  “That’s because Rum picks on you all the time. Anything I say to you would just set him rabid on you. I know the two of you have those … issues with each other, so I try spare you the hassle. I know you stay quiet because of the way he treats you.”