I called an ambulance, careful to explain things in the most general of terms. At the same time Martin managed to call James and tell him everything that had happened, giggling and wincing his way through the conversation.
“Come on mate,” he said, when I gave him a dirty look. “I had to tell him. We had a footy game planned for today. Plus they were all there last night, they saw everything, same as me!”
“Yeah but—”
“Mate! Don’t be so weird about the whole thing. It’s amazing is what it is. Amazing! He thought so too.”
“Just don’t go blabbing to these doctors alright? Unless you want them thinking you’re bonkers.”
I could see the cogs and wheels turning in his brain as he considered this. I’m sure we would have continued to reason that one out for some time, but then two medics burst into the trees carrying a stretcher.
“Hello,” one of them said to Martin, ignoring me. “You alright?”
“Tree fell on him,” I said, trying to sound inconspicuous.
“It’s my foot,” said Martin, pointing to it.
Both of the medics looked at each other and at the tree and at me and Martin and I could see them wondering what in the hell had really gone on. But they shrugged it off, examining the foot. When one of them touched it Martin winced painfully.
“It’s broken alright,” said the medic. “We’ll take you in now.”
One of them lifted up the thick branch that had fallen on Martin’s leg, while the other pulled him out from under. They then both lifted him onto the stretcher.
One of them looked at me. “Do you want to accompany your friend?”
“Yes please,” I nodded.
Martin laughed. “Don’t worry mate,” he said, “I’ll be alright.”
I could tell the medics were wondering if it was my fault and if so how on earth that could be. Did I have the power to bring down trees? Well, as it happened, yes I bloody well did. And it was not using any method one might expect.
“Not sure if he didn’t hit his head when he fell and all,” I whispered guiltily to them as they stretchered him away.
*****
Thankfully they didn’t put the sirens on in the ambulance.
On the way James called me on my mobile, though, which was most unpleasant.
“Alright Davey!” he shouted in that nerve jangling way of his. “Heard what happened. What the bloody hell you been drinking? I’ve heard of fire piss but this is something else aye!”
He laughed noisily to himself.
“I wouldn’t believe everything Martin tells you,” I said, feeling mean. “He just had a tree fall on him you know.”
“Is he alright?” said James, suddenly getting overly serious in that equally irritating way of his.
“He should be,” I said. “We’re in the ambulance now.”
“Shit,” said James.
“Yes,” I said.
Martin was watching me with a smirk. One of the medics raised an eyebrow too.
“Look,” I said to James, lowering my voice. “Let’s talk later alright. We’re nearly at the hospital.”
“Sure thing Davey,” said James. “Take good care of him. We’ll visit later on. Also, I do remember last night.”
He put the phone down.
*****
Even though a broken foot didn’t seem like an absolute emergency to me, we ended up in accident and emergency, a big room filled with seriously hurt and sick people. The medics put us in one of those little booths with green curtains you could pull all around for privacy if you wanted.
“Wait here, and just relax,” said one of the medics, leaving the curtains open. “The doctor will see you when he’s ready.”
“Alright,” said Martin, trying to sound brave but in this pathetic sort of way.
A nice blond nurse with deep blue eyes and pinprick dimples in her cheeks came over.
“Can I get you anything?” she said, sweetly.
“A glass of water would be nice,” said Martin, meekly.
“How about some morphine? Or whisky maybe?” I suggested. “Ease the pain.”
“Oh yes,” said Martin. “Painkillers would be great.”
“Alright love,” said the nurse.
She smiled at Martin and glared at me.
We waited while she went to get those items.
“Need to get your story straight Martin,” I said.
“What do you mean?” he looked genuinely confused, the idiot.
“Christ, I’m beginning to think you did hit your head. We can’t go telling them I weed on the tree and it fell on you, can we?”
Martin seemed lost in thought.
“What do you think they’d say if you told them that?”
“I don’t know,” said Martin.
“Well, I’m guessing they might consider it a lie. Or worse, fantasy. Imagine that, eh? God knows what they’ll do with you if they think you’ve gone bonkers.”
“Shit,” said Martin, as if I’d said something earth shattering and terrifying that he hadn’t considered. I knew I was being mean but it was for his own good. Well, alright, my own good.
“So what shall I tell them Davey?” he said, this pathetic puppy dog look on his face.
“I’m thinking you tell ‘em a half truth, it’ll be easier. Tell ‘em we were going for a smoke in the woods. Smoking a spliff. Yeah. They’ll believe that.”
“And what about the tree falling on me.”
“Hmmm…” I sighed. “That is the tricky part. I guess we just keep it simple and say it fell on you.”
Martin looked confused. “It did fall on me.”
“Exactly.”
“But how?”
“Well you and me know what happened, don’t we, but doesn’t mean they have to.”
“OK…” he said, looking more confused every second. “But what do we tell them?”
“Just the bare bones. Tell ‘em it fell on you and you don’t know why.”
“Er…” he frowned, looking up at the ceiling. “Do you think they’ll believe that?”
“I’ll back you up,” I said. “Besides, look at it this way mate. Do you actually understand how that tree fell on you? I mean, you saw what happened, and it doesn’t really make sense does it? Me pissing some kind of crazy acid, and the whole thing falling down. Sounds like bollocks doesn’t it?”
“Yeah…” he said, uncertainly.
“So we might as well just leave out the details. The tree fell on you, and you don’t know how. No need to mention the part about the wee.”
“Alright…” he said.
“Good.”
Then the pretty nurse brought the water and pills for Martin.
Not sure what was in ‘em but he chilled right out after that.
*****
As expected the doctor took ages.
Looking round the busy hall I did have to admit there were plenty more deserving patients to see. People with bloodied foreheads or coughing their guts out or just looking pale as off-milk. Martin lay there with this sort of half grin on his face, and I sat next to him on the little plastic chair they’d provided, bored as hell. I sorely wished I could relax. Should’ve brought my 3DS, played a few levels of Super Smash Bros or something. But I had nothing. Even my phone was low on juice.
I tried not to think too much about my predicament, what I would do about this ridiculous little ‘problem’ I inexplicably seemed to have acquired. Affliction was a much better word, I thought. The thing was, it wasn’t the kind of disorder you could easily brush under the table. A man always has to pee doesn’t he, come rain or shine.
*****
Soon I got thirsty.
Naturally and without thinking, I popped over to the drinks machine, dropped in a couple of pound coins, and all of a sudden there I was downing a bottle of Tango. Just an everyday, ordinary thing for me to be doing. Then the thought hit me like a splash of cold orange over my face, what goes in, must soon come out! I gagged on the bubbles
, spitting onto the floor, causing a number of those sitting around to look at me in disgust.
Ignoring them all, I sighed and held the bottle up to look at it. It was one of those half-litre bottles, and I’d nearly finished the whole thing. Stupid idiot that I was, I had stood there enjoying it like one of those prats in the Coca-Cola adverts, all ready to do a massive ‘ahh’ when I finished, and maybe a cheeky little burp. Shit, I thought, just cos of that I’m gonna need to piss again soon and I’m in the middle of a bloody hospital. Was I seriously gonna wreck a toilet needed by the elderly and the infirm?
Sod you, I thought, staring at the bottle. That’s right, I actually directed harsh words at a bottle, at least in my mind. Cursing myself, I chucked the unfinished bottle in the bin.
I went back to Martin and sat next to him, biting my nails. I could feel the liquid churning in my stomach. Soon, it would make it’s way down to my bladder.
I was refreshed, yes, but at what cost?
*****
“You alright love?”
I heard the sweet voice of that nurse and looked up from the white tiles of the floor which I’d been staring at hopelessly for some time, my fingers pushing into my temples, a rising sense of panic at the impending catastrophes about to befall me.
“Oh, yeah,” I said, trying to sound reassuring. “I’m just worried about my mate here.”
I glanced over at Martin, who had actually fallen asleep and looked about as peaceful as it’s possible to look.
“He’ll be alright,” she said, with a little laugh. “So, what happened?”
“A tree fell on him,” I blurted.
“A tree?” she said, frowning. “How’d that happen?”
“Wish I knew,” I said.
She gave me a look of utter confusion.
“Alright,” I reluctantly continued. “So, there we were, just chatting, fetching the ball you see. We always have a kick-around in the park on a Saturday morning. And suddenly, out of nowhere, this bloody great tree is falling on us. I got lucky, good reflexes I guess. But Martin here was floored by it. Poor bastard.”
“Right…” she said, yawning and rolling her eyes at me. “Well see you later. Doctor will be over in a minute.”
“Cheers,” I said, and went back to staring at the floor.
I surmised that she’d been up all night doing nurse stuff, was tired as hell, had heard it all before and couldn’t be bothered. She knew all too well what I had just told her was a load of old bollocks. Which of course it was.
*****
After a minute or so the inevitable happened and I felt the push of my bladder.
I stood up, far too suddenly. I had been wasting my time sitting there worrying when what I actually needed to do was get as far away from this hospital as I possibly could!
And of course, who should arrive at that precise moment, but the doctor.
He looked at me with evident distaste, a little wrinkle on his forehead, unfriendly eyes peering at me from behind his thick spectacles.
“Martin?” he said, pulling up a pad and reading off the name.
He looked down at my snoring friend and prodded him in the shoulders.
Martin woke up with a start.
“I’m Doctor Green,” he said, slowly and too loudly, talking to him like he was a child. “Are you OK?”
Martin yawned and nodded. He looked dozy as hell. The doctor leaned over him and pointed a light in his eyes. Then he put a hand on his chin and moved his head from left to right.
“Tell me what happened,” he said, rather forcefully, putting the little light back into a shirt pocket.
“Er…” Martin looked from the doctor to me, obviously worried and confused.
“Something about a tree?” prompted the doctor.
All the while my need for a piss was increasing. Yet I couldn’t leave Martin at a moment like this. This was indeed a pickle.
“Yes,” said Martin, finally. “We were in the trees…” he trailed off. “In Hope Park…” he trailed off again.
For some reason, Martin was being very, very crap. At what point should I step in, I wondered?
“And why were you in the trees in Hope Park?”
Martin looked at me pensively. I realised also that the nurse was stood nearby, in earshot, glancing at us suspiciously.
“We were smoking,” said Martin, his head drooping as if he was talking to the headmaster.
“Smoking? But why did you—”
“Smoking weed,” said Martin, his head lower now than I thought possible.
“I see…” said the doctor, sounding both judgmental and unconvinced.
From the corner of my eye I could see the nurse with her hands on her hips, looking accusingly at me.
“And what happened?” said the doctor. “How did this injury occur?”
“Well,” said Martin. “It was the tree.”
The doctor was staring at him, waiting for more information, but for some stupid reason Martin just left it at that. You need to give a bit more detail than that you idiot! I screamed at him silently, in my mind, all the while shifting my weight from foot to foot as the absolute need for a wee increased.
“The tree?” said the doctor.
Christ I thought, it was like pulling hairs out of your backside. The doctor must think we were the biggest pair of nincompoops to ever grace his emergency room.
Yet Martin was apparently dumbstruck. I could hold my tongue no more.
“The tree fell on us,” I said.
The doctor looked at me, raising an eyebrow.
“We don’t know what happened exactly. It just sort of fell on us. I was lucky. Martin here… wasn’t.”
“Are you alright?” said the doctor, looking at my shifting legs.
“No,” I said. “I need the loo.”
“Well why don’t you go then?” he said, impatiently.
“Alright…”
I sighed. They had me now. I didn’t want to leave Martin, who I now realised had the mental strength of a paper napkin, but what choice did I have? I had to go.
So I ferreted myself away.
As I left, the nurse grabbed me by the arm.
“Smoking weed is it now aye?”
“What?” I said.
“You’re friend’s been hit in the head. It’s obvious. I’m in training, I’ve seen it before. You lied about what happened.”
She was practically digging her nails into my arm.
“Get off!” I said, pulling away from her. “I need a piss!”
“Arsehole!” I heard her say as I legged it down the hallway.
“And the rest,” I muttered.
*****
I’ve never been in a hospital I liked, and this one was no different. To me hospitals are just big mazes full of poor bastards. The sick and dying, overworked and underpaid nurses, doctors who think the world of themselves, plus all those silent staff who toil underneath it all, the admin, cooks and cleaners shovelling the proverbial (and sometimes the real) shit. I didn’t think I would ever be so pleased to leave a place as that hospital, the only problem was I was in such a rush I couldn’t actually locate a way out.
I walked up and down stairs, along stretching corridors with far too wordy medical terms written on doors, doing my best not to knock anyone over as I hurried, all the while the need to pee increasing as if someone had stuck their foot right down onto my bladder. My insides were going into overdrive, and I needed release!
I passed a toilet. I considered the consequences of using it. I was not even on the ground floor, I knew, since the emergency room was a few floors up where they had a special car-park at the back for all the ambulances to arrive. I could cause serious, serious damage with such a wee. But take a moment to consider what it’s like to hold onto almost a litre of Tango in your bladder for what must have been over a half an hour now, on a bastard hangover, and in a highly stressful situation. I’d already opened the floodgates back in the park, and as the saying goes, once you open the
doors, there’s no closing them.
Man of Ruin: Episode One (Extra Special Pre-Release Edition) Page 3