Corrupt
Page 2
I swear I only just closed my eyes when I’m woken by a different sound. This time it’s a softly strummed six string acoustic guitar followed by a soft voice, “Hello……I’ve waited here for you, ever long”. I’ve thought on a few occasions that it is slightly creepy waking up to these lyrics, but I know there’s nothing creepy or voyeuristic about Dave Grohl. Well I hope not, apparently he’s the nicest guy in rock and roll.
As I drag myself out of bed I find that the sun is still not up yet. The cowardly light that left me this morning is still afraid to return. I quickly put on a hoody, track pants and a beanie and make my way out the front door. This morning I leave my headphones on the dresser as I don’t feel like listening to any music as I walk to work. I’m still on edge after this morning’s experience and still can’t figure out if it was real or not. It sure felt real enough.
As I walk down my street I stop for a moment to soak in how peaceful Wellington looks at this time in the morning. The amber glow of the street lights interrupt the darkness draped over the nation’s capital as she stretches out from the rolling hills and into the sea. Wellington is advertised with a somewhat romantic innuendo but unfortunately she has a sinister side, which I’ve become all too familiar with. The streets are always scarce of people at this time in the morning. The only ones usually out and about are rubbish trucks and the undesirables who lurk in the shadows.
I sometimes wish that I would fall victim to one of these, an undesirable that is, not a rubbish truck. Mind you those rubbish truck drivers can be just as dangerous. Especially as most of them seem to be colour blind or don’t understand the concept of a red light.
I rehearse the scenario over in my mind, thinking about how I would react as a figure emerges from the shadows and stands in my path.
A figure stands in front of me and a mumbled slur of words pour out. “Oi, Give me your wallet!” We both pause for a moment, of course I have a witty comment prepared in rebuttal but I know it will be lost on this dim-witted muppet, so a stern “get fucked” is all they are afforded. Most would shy away from this, cross the road, yell out and make noise or simply ring the police. But I keep walking towards the figure, my eyes locked with his.
With an outstretched right arm the figure lunges at me in an effort to grab my back pack. If the figure came at me with their left arm I’d be screwed, but it’s always with their right. Anticipating this my right hand comes up and meets their wrist. I rotate my hand and grip their forearm tightly. At the same time I pull him towards me which makes him lose his balance. Then with a crushing strike I push through their elbow joint with my left hand. The chilling crack of the joint echoes across the street and a scream escapes from the vagrant’s mouth. I now lower my centre of gravity, twist his forearm further and pull his shoulder down. Effortlessly the figure falls to the ground where it remains a broken demoralised pile of worn clothing and failure.
Panting heavily I scan the street to see who has witnessed this assault but I can’t see anyone. An old saying that has always stuck with me and has remained true on more than one occasion rings through my thoughts, “remember, there’s always someone watching”.
Pulling my hood over my head the scene melts into darkness as I walk away.
As I get to the Wellington Central Police Station I casually stroll through the main doors and up to the elevator. I always get confused stares from staff as I walk into the station, I suppose it doesn’t help that I’m wearing my ‘I can’t be bothered attire’. I’m pretty sure the night shift crew on the front counter think I am a member of the public and expect me to make some lame complaint or entertain them with the dramas of my life. It’s not till they recognise my face do I feel their sense of relief when they realise that I’m not going to be contributing to their stack of paper work.
It takes several swipes for my piece of shit swipe card to register. Finally when I get the green light I swing the door open, off for a hot shower and a shave, the shit can wait.
Chapter Three