Jan was delighted at the new scriptures before him. He loved the Platac knack for writing. The text flowed with gentleness and was inspiring in its poetic language.
They eventually said their goodbyes, and Jan went home, in very high spirits. Ziba is great, he thought. I am so glad this happened.
It was getting darker, and he walked fast to get home. Jan was just about home when the school detention bus passed by, and as he was looking at it, he saw a familiar face — Barab, staring back through the bus window with an intensity that made Jan’s heart “hiccup”. No — not again! The bus stopped, and Jan started running. Barab had Sak and two more guys with him. One of them was tall, a very fast runner, and he caught up to Jan first, grabbing him and throwing Jan to the sidewalk. The others got there ahead of Barab, who was slowed down by his limp. They were all holding Jan down.
Barab was not smiling this time. He had a bandage on the side of his head from Jan’s shovel treatment the day before. Barab was raging as he approached them, roaring as he kicked Jan hard in the side. “C’mon guys, he ain’t just for me!” Barab yelled as they all proceeded to kick him in the head, face, back, and stomach.
Every time Jan tried to get up one of them kicked his arms or legs, and he was back down, covering his head and shouting. He kept kicking and yelling, but he was eventually exhausted. He gave up, hoping it would be over soon, as he curled up, trying to cover his face and head from the blows. Blood was streaming into his eyes now, and the pain from his back and stomach was intensified with every kick he received.
Barab stopped kicking, and stood above Jan now. He was panting from the exertion, and his blood was boiling. He was in the “predator zone”. He pulled out a long knife that had a saw-tooth edge. He said to the others, “Hold him down, don’t let him move,” and ran his fingers along the edge of his knife.
Jan glanced up and trying to escape, started kicking at Sak, who was holding his feet. They’re going to kill me, right here!
“Hold him down, I said!” Barab shouted, pointing his knife at Sak and the ones pinning Jan to the ground. They all quickly immobilized Jan, and with the combined weight, he did not stand a chance.
Barab got down on his knees, and ground the side of Jan’s head into the sidewalk with all his weight, and put the knife against the side of Jan’s neck, getting ready to saw through it.
Jan could smell Barab’s putrid breath when he yelled again at the others, “Hold him still!” whilst Jan was still squirming and screaming, trying to get free.
They did not hear an older neighbor approaching, out walking his pedigreed blog. He saw what was happening, and yelled at them to stop, and they simply ignored him. Then the neighbor called out Barab’s name, and Barab stopped for a moment, looking over at the neighbor.
“Shit! He knows me!” Barab looked down at Jan, breathing heavily, and sneered, saying once again, “This isn’t over, punk.” Then he rose and gave Jan two more kicks to the stomach, causing Jan to start vomiting, and there was blood in it. They all then ran off down the street. The blog was screeching at all the action.
The neighbor ran over with his blog in tow and helped Jan up. “Are you OK?” he asked.
Jan got up and dropped back down. He started crying, sitting there on the sidewalk in the dark, spitting blood. His stomach — and the head he almost lost were killing him.
“They’re gone now,” the neighbor said. He then helped Jan up again, and down the street to his home. When they got there, Jan dragged himself inside.
When Martha saw him come into the kitchen, and saw the blood he was coughing up, she panicked. “Oh my God! What happened to you? We need to get you to the hospital!” As she was helping Jan to the living room to lie down, he passed out. His face was so swollen he was difficult to recognize. Martha wiped off the blood — there was so much of it because of the cuts to his head and neck.
Three days had passed, and Jan had not regained consciousness. His mother and father spent as much time as they could at the hospital, but it was Ziba who was there when Jan awoke.
“Where am I?” Jan asked himself, groggily looking around. He recognized the bed he was in as clinical, and there were electronic devices in the room. “This looks like a hospital.” He looked to his right, and saw a figure sitting there. As his vision cleared, he could see it was Ziba. “Where’s my mother?” Jan asked.
Ziba was happy to see him awaken. She had come after school each day to see how he was doing. “Your mother was here all day, and just left for the night shift. She will be so happy to see you when she comes in tomorrow. She’s a very lovely person,” Ziba said, with a kindly smile. “I met her two days ago, here in the hospital. You’re lucky to have her.”
“Luck?” Jan said. “Did luck get me in here?” He was remembering now. Barab. He winced as he recalled the attack. He became aware of the pain in his side and head. He found himself becoming angry.
His nurse came in. She smiled at Ziba, and when she saw that Jan was awake, she looked shocked and excited. “You’re awake, handsome!” She looked at the teacher, and asked, “When did he wake up, Ziba?”
Ziba responded, “Just a few minutes ago, Rachel. He seems all right.”
The nurse walked over to Jan’s bedside, and checked his vitals. “You poor thing. Nobody deserves this — nobody.” She stroked his crest in a caring manner that was unusual from a stranger. “Your swelling is almost gone.” The nurse’s touch felt good.
It was evident that Ziba and Rachel knew each other well. Jan had been given a hypnotic sedative. The drug was to help with both the physical and the mental pain. Still, he was gaining more alertness. The nurse was an eyeful. Was her name Rachel?
Rachel was outstandingly pretty. She appeared to be very young for the job. She had a reddish tint to her crest, and she apparently liked lipstick and fingerclaw polish that was deep red as well. She was a bit on the smaller side, but had bigger breasts than almost any female he had seen before. Why is she so happy to see me awake? he thought to himself.
“Here, let me make you more comfortable,” Rachel said as she leaned over Jan to reposition his pillow. She didn’t mind rubbing her breasts lightly against him. “OK, you just relax, and I’ll check back later,” Rachel assured him with a sweet smile, and then she left to continue on her rounds.
She made him feel better, but as soon as Rachel left his room, Jan became aware of the pain, and negative thoughts began to slip into his mind. He began thinking aloud, “I’m sick of this. I think LERN just weakens me. I would have been able to fight those guys off if I were tougher, if I had trained, like Dad said. I should have been on the watch for them.”
He was becoming angrier with himself, his mother, LERN, the world — and then the thought of the Guide came into his mind.
“Fuck the Guide!” he shouted furiously, leaning forward and shaking his fists in the air, forgetting for a moment that Ziba was sitting there. “Where were you?” he yelled in his white hospital room, then fell back, anger giving way to depression.
Jan’s words caught Ziba’s attention. “What did you say?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Jan sighed.
“I’m serious, what did you just say?” Ziba insisted.
Jan sighed, and perhaps it was the drug, but he decided to tell her, “Sometimes this guide talks to me and gives me advice.” He paused, looked at her, and sighed again. “I don’t even think he’s real now, and he sure didn’t warn me about this,” and then looking up into the air and clenching his fists again, barked loudly, “Didn’t you?”
Jan looked back at Ziba, who looked lost in wonder at the mention of the Guide. Jan went on, “I’m sick of all this, I’m sick of everything. It’s never going to change. I wish Barab would’ve finished the job. Fuck ‘em all!” He unconsciously probed the bandage that covered the saw wound on the side of his neck.
“What? Barab did this?” Ziba got up, and now she was angry. “That waste of air! We should have never let him back into this school.” She looked
at Jan with no little intensity. “I’ll take care of Barab!” she said. Then she settled herself, came over to the bed, and patted Jan on the head. “I don’t know why, but I feel that you are one special guy. I know Rachel well, and told her how much I think of you. I told her to take good care of you.” She lightly rubbed his crest now. “Don’t let this get you down. You will heal, and you will get over this in time, mark my words.” She then gathered the bulky green bag she had with her, and put a book she had been reading into it. “I really must go now Jan. The doctors have said that all they could find were some small internal contusions, and a few bruised ribs. Nothing was broken — you’ll be fine.”
Jan, still gaining his awareness, observed Ziba as she was leaving. She looked like she was about ten years older than his mother was. He was thinking, Ziba’s OK. I’m glad I know her.
After Ziba had gone, Jan started scratching his left thumb, then the right, thinking about what she had said about the LERN signal, when he gradually realized Rachel had returned and was watching him from the room entrance. Her vision was zeroed in on his hands, and he stopped immediately.
Rachel smiled at him with a sideways smirk, and asked, “So how are you doing, big guy?” as she strolled over to Jan to check his pulse again.
She holds my hand so warmly, Jan thought. He smiled, grasping her hand a bit more boldly and said, “I’m doing fine, now that you’re here.” This isn’t like me — it’s this buzz juice they have me hooked up to.
He could see her ears turn a bit red on the edges now.
She’s really something else. Jan noticed that she had almost no sores, very unusual. I wonder if she’s using that new vitamin extract bath, he mused. It was new, and very expensive. She looked like she pampered herself well.
“How’s the pain level?” Rachel asked, as she looked at his chart.
“It only hurts when I’m awake,” Jan said with a small grin. Rachel gave a chortle, and Jan started laughing too, but when he did, it caused extreme pain. He bent over because of it, making it worse, and he went into a temporary abdominal spasm.
“Oh brother,” Rachel said, “Why didn’t you tell me? You need a boost of this.”
She went over to the cabinet, retrieved a medication, and prepared it for injection into his IV. “This will make you feel better for sure,” she said.
“What is it?” asked Jan, who had picked up a natural distrust of hospitals from his father.
“It’s something we give all the time for —” she stopped and glanced at him, “For what you’ve been through.” Then she stopped a moment, turned completely toward Jan, and said, “I know what they did, and I’m sorry.” Then she looked down, sadly, and said, “Every day I see the things this world dishes out.” Then she drew a long breath, let it out slowly, and said, “Oh well, let’s get you feeling better.” She then injected the drug into the IV, and he shortly started feeling that “floaty” feeling again.
“What is that you gave me?” he asked.
Rachel said, “It’s a hypnotic. It will help you to relax, and she patted him on the tummy.
“It sure does,” Jan replied a little incoherently, as it was taking effect quickly. He watched her as she moved the chair back into its place, and started cleaning the room a bit.
“That’s a sweet tail end you’ve got,” he said as she bent over to pick something up, not even surprising himself at his boldness. He didn’t care.
Rachel turned and smiled with a measuring look. She said, “That’s the drug talking, but sweet, just the same. Thanks.” It didn’t stop her from bending over again.
As he continued to fall deeper into the drug-induced trance, he could have sworn she came over to his bed and kissed him on his cheek before she left.
In the morning, Martha and Griswolt were on their way to visit Jan. They were both on a tight schedule, so they took a taxi. They were sitting on the outside, in the back, as was their long time habit.
“You treat Jan too softly, I have said that for years now,” Griswolt baited.
Martha just gave Griswolt a sidelong look, and with a smile, said, “Don’t start, we’ve been over this — if you want to train him, go ahead.” She snuggled up to Griswolt, taking his arm and hugging it warmly. Then she said the same thing she had had said many times, “He’s just a good kid — it happens sometimes.”
Griswolt sighed, and never did have a good comeback for that. Which is why I hear it so often, he thought. He swiftly had another thought, “It’s because of love.” He waited, wondering if there would be a reaction.
Martha usually clammed up shortly after love was mentioned, but she would say something now — “What do you mean?” she asked, stiffening a little, and paying a higher level of attention.
Let’s really test her. “Well,” Griswolt said, “You must admit that they never quite got all of the love out of you thirteen years ago. I see remnants of it, but I just don’t say anything.”
Martha, heart rate increasing just a bit, continued listening. She let Griswolt talk, giving her time to come up with a believable denial.
Griswolt continued. “It’s not like you are trying to do it, but it does slip through, and that’s why Jan is so soft.” He was unexpectedly sure of what he had just guessed, which surprisingly frightened him. Why? She might tell me the truth. What truth? No, why would I think that was the truth? That’s ridiculous! Griswolt abruptly decided to change the conversation before Martha could answer. “I’ll get him trained,” he said with finality.
Glad that he had dropped the subject, Martha started thinking about how close he was to the truth. Maybe, maybe he would accept the fact that I am in LERN, she thought. As the escape was gaining more reality for them, she would catch herself feeling guilty for leaving Griswolt out of it. Abandoning him, in spite of her love for him left her with a guilt-ridden conflict that was difficult to deal with. Still, she put the thought of telling him out of her mind. I have to think of the others, I can’t risk their capture, she thought.
The rest of the ride to the hospital was pleasant. They were upwind of the primary smelting plant of Justilant, and the air was sweet.
That same morning, Jan felt a little better upon awakening. He was less frustrated and angry as the day before, but yet could not shake it.
The doctor came in, checked Jan over, and told him, “I believe your damage was primarily superficial. No organs appear to be seriously damaged, and we know there are no fractures.” He paused and examined Jan’s face, probing it. “The swelling in your face has gone down amazingly well, but I am going to keep you here one more night, just to see how your internal organs react to bodily movement. I do want you up and walking around today.”
As the doctor was leaving, Martha and Griswolt came in together. After they were there for a few hours, Rachel started her shift. She had already become friendly with both parents for the few days that Jan was unconscious, and they were all delighted that Jan was awake and looking much better. Jan was able to get up, and walk around with them, dragging his IV along.
Jan told them, “The doctor said that I need to stay another night.”
Griswolt responded, “That’s only because I have insurance. I want you out of here before you get a disease.”
“Oh, Griswolt, said Martha, “Be polite.” She was referring to the nurse Rachel, who was walking with them. “Besides, you don’t know what might be damaged. Let’s keep him here in case something happens.”
Rachel was quick to agree. “Yes, it’s best that we be careful with this guy,” and she looked at Jan with an expression that said she was very happy to see him stay.
Griswolt had to get back to work for another late night, so he was about to leave. “I’ll be here to pick you up tomorrow,” he said to Jan.
Martha stayed on for a few more hours, and they ended up back in Jan’s room, but she was to be at long meeting later.
Jan told her, “Mom, thanks for coming. When I’m alone I get so pissed off at everything. I feel like everybody is o
ut to hurt us, kill us, rob us — the NOV, neighbors, students, FUCK!” He threw his hands up in dismay.
Martha had nothing, but she tried, “Jan, I have something to tell you. The escape —”
“The escape?” Jan barked. “I don’t want to hear anything more about the stupid escape. The only escape from here is death — period.” Jan started falling into his funk again. “You’ve been talking that gendra shit for my entire life,” he said, crossing his arms.
“The escape is real, Jan, Ziba told me,” Martha insisted, speaking more soothingly now. She didn’t want to upset him, but she had real reason for hope, and wanted to give him some of it. Especially now. She walked over and gently touched the row of stitches on the side of his head. “This will heal, Jan, and so will you. I love you.” Martha bent over and gave Jan a kiss on the forehead, but had to leave to get to her meeting. A minute later, she was gone.
Jan was now alone, and he got bored, so he spent some time walking up and down the hallways of the hospital, still pulling his IV stand with him. As he walked down the various hallways, the odors went from chemical to outright nasty in some areas. One hallway smelled like something was rotten, another area smelled like old stinky people. He noticed the new, shielded ultraviolet lights in all the hallways. His dad had heard about those on the news. Some big shot sued the hospital because his wife died of an airborne infection she contracted while there. He dug up evidence that hospitals did not install them because they made a lot of money treating those infections. The doctors themselves were amazingly unaware of all this. The ultraviolet lights sure didn’t get rid of the all the smells though.
Jan was back in his room in time for dinner. He was still in a bitchy mood, and the food was stale tasting. He was feeling some pain returning because of all the walking he had done that day. After eating, Jan decided to read a magazine that his mom had left there for him, and was planning to do that until he went to sleep. In the evening, they lowered all the lights in the hospital rooms automatically, but he was still able to read with a small light beside his bed.
Dystopyum (The D-ot Hexalogy Book 1) Page 19