by Aziz, M.
‘Just a common old look to see if you won’t drop dead, lads.’ said Stanley walking over to a corner. ‘No hissy fits.’
Jim lifted his shirt to reveal a bony, grey-haired chest. He shivered at the stethoscope’s touch.
‘Heart’s thumping away like a rabbit’s foot there.’ said Dave. ‘Getting too rough a time in here?’
Jim looked up at Stanley. ‘I’m right as rain, man. I’ll be dodgin’ my coffin for a long time yet.’
The blood pressure measuring device was cuffed on. It inflated more than expected.
‘I’m going to have to wrap this around you again tomorrow, my friend.’ said Dave. ‘If this isn’t a one-off you can’t be doing without some pills.’
Jim watched the doctor repeat the same procedure on Pascual.
‘Couldn’t be better.’ said Dave after the stethoscope. ‘Nothing to fret about here too.’ after the blood pressure reading. ‘And you’re not just skin and bones.’ he reached for a needle, syringe and a wad of tubes from his bag.
‘Hey, what’s that shit for?’ asked Pascual. ‘He didn’t get that!’
‘We’re not bleeding everyone.’
Pascual shut his eyes tight as alcohol from a swab evaporated on his forearm. He winced as the needle pierced. On slowly opening his eyes he noticed two tubes already filled with his crimson. Jim laughed but curtailed it when Pascual looked at him stony-eyed. The doctor quickly removed the needle and shone a penlight over the tear.
‘Not so bad now, was it?’ smiled Dave.
Pascual rolled down his sleeve and looked at Stanley and Dave as a pupil would to a teacher who’s said something absurd.
The next morning a pair of guards brought Pascual and another inmate before Stanley. Pascual’s collar was ruffled, the other black inmate had a hand over an eye. Stanley was savouring tea and a croissant.
‘Lover’s tiff in the canteen.’ said one guard.
Stanley clapped crumbs from his hands and looked at the odd couple.
‘Who swung first?’
‘I saw Pascual just bleedin’ leap on Babatunde for opening his mouth.’ replied the same guard.
‘What was it that got you so fuzzed up, Pascual?’
Pascual looked at the guards in turn and laughed. The first raised a brow at him, the other looked down, wrestling laughter from his lips.
‘Oi, Babatunde. What shit did you spout?’ Stanley sipped some tea.
Babatunde put his hand down to reveal early stage purpling.
‘“Easy, man”, then he bop me. Fockin’ nutcase.’
Pascual looked at the floor and continued laughing silently.
‘Did you say it in that smart way, though? You know how he is.’
‘Fuck you, warden! If it was him and a white guy you’d be grilling him!’
‘Babatunde, don’t start that shit.’
‘No! I didn’t! This guy is just mental!’
Stanley slowly turned towards Pascual.
‘Pascual... You didn’t take a hit, did you?’
Pascual erupted like a hyena.
‘Why the fuck you asking if he’s alright?’ shouted Babatunde. ‘Look at my eye, look at my eye!’
‘Pascual, don’t make me shut your trap!’ thundered Stanley. ‘Pascual!’
‘I’m-hmm-sor...’ replied Pascual, unable to digest his laughter.
Babatunde tried to lunge. Pascual’s laughter vaporised as he raised his fists. The guards kept the men apart.
‘Babatunde, you clear off.’ said Stanley.
Babatunde shook his shoulders as the guards led him away.
‘Properly on the chair, Pascual!’ barked Stanley.
Pascual complied, in a deflated pose that could make him slide off. Stanley leant back and stared at him.
‘I don’t get the pattern of your tantrums, Pascual. You’re never a cheery fucker, but I’m damned if I can tell when you’ll go deck someone. What’s your bother today?’
Pascual repositioned himself to look as if he’d fall the other way.
Stanley leant forward. ‘You’re not hurt, though, are you?’
‘Why’s that bother you?’
Stanley coughed, bringing some grit back to his voice.
‘Just, if you are, we can get you treated. Maybe draw some blood.’
‘You should be telling jokes on stage, man.’
‘Babatunde’s not someone who conjures up hell in here, but whether he did or not, you’re not the one with a black eye.’
‘So, what, you gonna make me do extra donkey work?’
‘We’re just going to keep a more beady eye.’
‘You’re just gonna let me walk away now?’
‘You like being on your hands and knees with a bucket of soapy water, do you?’
Pascual’s voice softened. ‘Well, nah, but...’
‘Certain punishment only works on people who can change; aren’t static. That’s why you just get thrown away in a room forever. You wouldn’t get it into your thick skull, Pascual.’
‘Yeah, but you’re missin’ out on takin’ advantage of my damn energy.’
‘What are you like?’ laughed Stanley. ‘And if you think this stunt means we’re not going to wash our hands of you or extend your stay, you’re having a laugh. They actually prefer not to have docile things. More fun to break.’
Pascual slightly nodded. His redness subsided and his lips melted off remnants of a smile.
‘When you’re about to be knocked out in a boxing match don’t bother ducking any more punches.’ Stanley’s voice calmed. ‘Comparatively, the new place is less of a shithole.’
‘Can I piss off now?’ asked Pascual at the ceiling.
Stanley nodded. His eyes followed Pascual attach to guards and shrink out of sight. Biting his lip, he opened a new page of his notebook.
Many hours later Stanley opened his eyes. His head was on his hands upon the desk. Upon easing up he could focus on the wonky embryo of a spiral. Heavy shadows thickened the wall clock’s hands. It was late. His philtrum and cheeks shone with sweat.
After a few moments he walked out of his office to the water cooler opposite. The rattle of a plastic cup filling eased him more than drinking the dusty liquid. Wiping his face with a sleeve he headed to the doctor’s office.
‘Stan?’ said Dave, getting up and guiding him to a chair.
‘I don’t know how, but I’ve got a bloody killer headache.’
Dave opened a cupboard and examined the sparse amount of medication before pulling a bottle out.
‘High strength.’ he unscrewed the cap. ‘Here, have some of my tea. Cold.’
‘Ta.’
Dave placed the back of his hand on Stanley’s forehead. From his desk drawer he then pulled out a head thermometer and pressed it against his friend. He looked at his watch.
‘You should stop feeling horrible soon.’
‘What do you think’s up with me?’ he asked wearily.
‘Nasty migraine?’
‘First time I bloody had one of those, then.’
‘Likely wracked nerves and a guilty conscience, then,’ he sighed, ‘over our whipping boy. What we’re involved in is hardly textbook stuff, is it? It’s a headfuck! Alcohol, that’s what you need; that’s what we don’t have!’
‘I really don’t give a toss about these guys. Not much. In their uniforms they all look like gunk; comers, goers.’
‘But this isn’t simply them tasting freedom again or going six feet under, is it?’ he removed the thermometer. ‘Slightly high reading but you’ll see another day.’
Stanley breathed in and out deeply. ‘I guess so... It is a bit trippy. I look that guy in the eyes and think “God, you’re not going to be you.” Does anybody deserve that fate? And I’m not just a bystander.’
‘We’re going to feel like what comes out of a dog’s bum for a little while. Until we’re washed of this business. You need to keep hydrated, focus on other things; pretty girls online.’
‘I guess if this pull
s off, people could eventually just go to their GP as one person and come out some reformed gangster, in no time. The only way, eh?’
‘I don’t know what to think, really. My profession wants to eradicate someone to save another.’ he checked Stanley’s pulse. ‘But maybe I just need to be hard-skinned about this.’
‘I’d like to see it to believe it.’
‘Me too.’
4
The sun shone through the windows of the Gabino household.
‘You’re awake with your eyes closed, aren’t you?’ asked Marilyn. She touched his chest.
‘Mmm, sort of.’ Tomás moaned and turned. The ringing in his ears amplified on the pillow.
‘You were too zonked to tell me how the show went.’
He turned back. ‘No complaints at all.’ he yawned. ‘Can’t remember everything they played, none of the crap. Lacked some energy, but they are grey and balding now.’
‘I’m glad you weren’t disappointed.’ she smiled. ‘Gorgeous chocolate eyes. Sexy!’
‘You only just noticed that?’ his eyes widened.
‘Can’t I compliment you again?’
He swerved to the edge of the bed and fondled for his slippers. She walked in front and put her arms around him.
‘I haven’t lost use of my legs yet!’ he sighed.
She closed her palms and stepped back. He levered himself above the mattress, his arms bent in his weight. He tried again before extending a shaking hand to her. On standing he shrugged her off and stumbled into the bathroom.
Opening his shaving cabinet he pulled out a cotton bud. Rubbing a finger in his right ear he heard ringing, his heartbeat and oceanic sounds. He then faced the mirror and inserted the bud.
On retrieval it held a mass of red, purple and urine-yellow.
Dropping it, he cupped his ear.
‘Tom... You fine?’ she knocked softly.
He flinched.
‘Yeah, yeah... I’m, um, just clearing away my stubble, okay?’ he reached for his razor and shaving gel, knocking both on the floor. ‘God damn.’
‘Before you’ve eaten? That’s not you.’
‘Well, it’s fucking me now.’ he undid his pyjama top.
‘What’s gotten into you?’
He splashed his face with water and haphazardly rubbed on the gel. In the mirror red pooled in his ear. He dabbed a razor side to the blood.
‘Agh! I just nicked myself. Deep.’ he said woodenly.
‘Don’t make me break my shoulder against this door!’
He unlocked it. ‘Just swung at my lobe like an idiot.’
‘Very smart!’ she went inside, tore a wad of toilet paper and dabbed at his ear. ‘Wash that off your face. Come and get something down you first!’
‘No, I’m not wasting this gel by applying it again.’ more blood seeped.
‘How carelessly did you cut that? Where’s the source?’
‘Calm. It’s just one of those very tiny grazes that...’ his eyes rolled.
Her eyes focused sharply on him.
Dropping the razor he fell beside the sink.
‘No! No, no!’ she cried. Pulling him up hard she placed one of his arms around her neck. Her face reddened in dragging him to the bedroom. Blood and blue gel speckled her neck, the floor, and the pillow which he was laid back onto. She beat a fist to the wall adjoining her in-laws.
‘Tomás is bleeding and out cold!’ she grabbed her mobile from the bedside table and turned it on. ‘Boot, you stupid machine!’
She dialled 999 as soon as the network name appeared.
‘Emergencies only. Which service do you require?’ asked the robotic male voice.
‘Get me an ambulance right now!’ her voice was stuck with tears.
The line beeped.
‘What seems to be the problem?’ asked a female voice.
‘My husband, he collapsed! Blacked out, blood... One of his ears! He has a brain tumour!’ she shrieked.
‘Please keep a hold on yourself, madam. Is he still out cold at this exact moment?’
‘He’s laid out on the mattress, er, the blood doesn’t seem to be getting worse. I think.’
‘Stack any extra pillows you have under his head.’
She hurriedly placed hers under his.
‘His heart’s pounding away!’
Tomás’s parents burst in.
‘What wrong?’ asked Estela. ‘Tomás!’ she rushed to him.
‘Shsh, making a noise won’t help!’ said Alberto. He retrieved a towel from the bathroom and wiped the gel off Tomás’s face.
‘Is he on any medication?’ resumed the operator.
‘No, no... Oh. Just some basic pain-controlling stuff.’ snorted Marilyn.
‘I notice you’re not calling from a landline. Are you at home?’
‘Yes. Get the a-hambulance to come to...’ the address blurred in her shivering.
‘Could you repeat the very first part of that for me, please?’
‘Fif-ty tuh-oo.’
‘An ambulance will be with you very shortly. Have the painkillers ready to show the crew. Please stay calm.’
‘Painkillers r-ready. Okay, th-thank you.’
‘What happen, say?’ asked Estela.
‘I have no clue! One minute he was all fine, then he snapped, went to the bathroom and this happened!’
‘This is end? This is end?’ Estela gasped. ‘Is there time not lose him, or whatever?’
‘My guess w-won’t be better than yours.’ Marilyn slowly shook her head. ‘Can’t say if this happened because of the concert, the sound level.’
‘He should no have gone. He should no have gone, Marilyn!’
‘Estela, I will dress and wait outside for the ambulance.’ said Alberto. ‘You both get dressed too, don’t waste time, and ready his things.’
‘You keep your head when we lose ours, Alberto.’ said Marilyn.
Within a few minutes of opening the door to a cold, navy, morning, an electric-blue light washed across Alberto’s face. The reversing mass of yellow stood out in the dirt-white neighbourhood. He waved at the driver.
Both of the vehicle’s front doors opened and a green-uniformed pair stepped out; both white, one a short woman, the other a tall man. After opening the back doors the man went inside and returned holding the end of a stretcher. The other side was pushed out by a slim black man.
‘Come, no time to lose!’ said Alberto.
The crew looked at the framed pictures on the walls as they ascended the stairs. Their chests seemed to inflate at sobbing behind a door.
‘What’s happened here then, ‘ey?’ asked the woman as she stepped in. She walked to Tomás’s side and noticed his eyelids twitching.
‘He’s leaving us!’ sobbed Marilyn.
‘That’s not helpful talk, madam. Don’t worry, we won’t let him slip away.’ she held his wrist and nodded at her colleagues.
‘Can you help us get him on the stretcher?’ asked the black ambulance man. ‘Health and safety now, you know.’
Alberto nodded and Marilyn helped him shift Tomás to the stretcher.
‘Doesn’t seem to be bleeding now, ‘s a good sign.’ he continued. ‘But we can’t waste time, don’t look too good.’
‘Silver Monochrome.’ said the tall man, smiling at a tattered black and white poster. ‘My eldest was always cranking their stuff out loud.’
No one responded.
Tomás’s body shook from side to side as the crew brought him downstairs.
In the back of the ambulance Alberto helped the tall man lock Tomás into place before sitting in the space between Tomás’s head and the driver seat’s back. The ambulance woman helped in a shivering Estela and sat beside her, facing Tomás’s side. Marilyn walked in and sat at his feet. The ambulance men then exited for the front.
The door slams shook Marilyn.
‘So, what one do you usually go?’ asked the tall man at the wheel, tablet computer on lap.
‘Most local, of course.�
�� replied Alberto.
The ambulance woman checked Tomás’s straps before giving him oxygen.
‘We’re going to blare the siren, you might want to hold tight.’ said the tall man.
The ambulance hummed at a progressively higher pitch. Marilyn stared at the black-dotted window behind Estela and the ambulance woman. Everything outside was still.
‘How long has he been lucky to have you?’ asked the ambulance woman.
Marilyn tuned back to the foreground. ‘Oh. Not long enough.’ she sighed.
‘He’s hanging in there.’ the ambulance woman smiled.
Estela clasped her hands, closed her eyes and faced upwards. The black ambulance man talked into his radio.
Marilyn resumed watching the view outside.
Many minutes passed before they halted at a plain concrete entrance. The ambulance men rushed out and hurriedly opened the back doors. The ambulance woman stomped on a red button to lower the ramp. Tomás’s family followed the crew through a bleach-white corridor to Accident and Emergency.
The tall man approached a waiting nurse. ‘Hi there. This young gentleman...’
‘Astrocytoma!’ interrupted Marilyn.
‘Thank you...’ he resumed. ‘He seems to have passed out, there was a lot of blood on his pillow. His heart rate is also way beyond what it should be.’
‘Wheel him in.’ waved the nurse.
The nurse led them through a turn and behind a vacant curtain. The crew raised the waiting bed and Marilyn and Alberto helped move Tomás to it.
‘Thank you so much!’ said Estela. She reached inside her trouser pocket and pulled out a small note. ‘Please, just take.’
‘No. No, madam. You mustn’t. This is what we do.’ replied the black man. ‘You just look out for your son.’ he winked.
The other crew members mouthed goodbye. Tomás’s family nodded in unison. The nurse adjusted Tomás’s pillow then called for another to clean his ear.
‘He doesn’t seem to be in any immediate danger, don’t worry. I’ll be back in a second to take some blood. A doctor shouldn’t keep you long.’
‘Sit on the chair.’ said Alberto to Marilyn.
‘I want to stand. You two sit.’
He sighed and sat. Estela held back her tears facing the parted curtain. Marilyn watched Tomás’s eyelids. Any slight twitch quickened her breath.