A Vagrant Story (40 page)

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Authors: Paul Croasdell

BOOK: A Vagrant Story
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“That’s right outside!” another mimicked.

“It’s near the church!”

“We’ll keep you updated,” the news report on Television interrupted, knocking the crowd to silence. The barman upped the volume as if to tell everyone to stay that way.

Then the news cast continued louder like a screaming drunk man with nothing of worth to say, leaving nowhere else to look.

“-happened moments ago,” it bellowed in a soft quiet female voice. “-two armed gun-men burst into the bank demanding they hand over everything available. Reports are sketchy at this moment in time but it is believed they left with a minimum of two hundred thousand dollars. Police have begun chasing the suspects who are currently believed to be driving a silver van down Church-Street.”

A picture of the silver van appeared on screen. Alex reacted to it like a zombie reacts to a shiny light in the sky.

“Silver Van … was … parked outside … Grey Oaks retirement home.”

Sierra acknowledged Alex with the same weariness she had previously, then turned to the picture of the van. “Hey … that does look like the same silver van from Grey Oaks.”

Sierra silenced to let the TV continue…

“Due to problems brought about by the recent snowstorm, and the incompetence of our city’s police force, detectives have asked for the public’s aid in identifying the couple. One of whom has been identified as a middle aged man, dark-brown hair, wearing both a black rain coat and matching trousers. His accomplice is believed to be female, middle aged, with light brown hair. That‘s all we have.”

“Description matches them too,” Sierra stated. “Oh boy … so they were serious after all.”

“Now … remember we did agree to turn a blind eye,” Henry added.

“I didn’t take it seriously, to be honest. Well … so long as no one gets hurt…” Sierra replied.

“Someone has been killed!” the reporter cried triumphantly.

Sierra gasped.

“No … sorry. Not killed … someone has in fact been shot and may die shortly. Wait – what’s that? We apologise for the mistake folks, someone has been shot but remains unharmed.” She paused. “Sorry?” she spoke again to her ear peace.

“These clowns,” Sierra groaned, “they’re unbelievable.”

“We have no footage of events at this moment in time but I have just been informed we have a live feed with the victim of the shooting now.”

The screen clicked to a man in a blue suit. A reporter stood off screen holding a mike below the man’s mouth. He asked some questions which the man spoke over.”

“The bullet bounced right off,” the blue suited man yelled, wielding a dented pocket bible in hand. “To think I’d be dead right now if this little thing hadn’t been in my pocket.”

The reporter asked if he was a religious man.

The man scoffed at the thought and explained how he’d never touched a bible in his life. He only received this one when some church freak, ‘smelt like a bum‘, handed the bible to him moments before he’d gone to the bank. To think I’d be dead, he trailed off again.

Henry stared at the screen. “The Bullet was blocked by a bible … that’s pretty cool. Lucky guy.”

“Why can’t we be so lucky?” Sierra replied. “They can keep the bullet but how about a lucky lottery ticket some time. Our situation right now seems like one of those scratch and win moments from the ads. Or maybe Rum could get lucky and stumble his way back faster.”

“Not my fault you chose awkward seats,” a gritty old voice spoke from out of sight.

Sierra spun round to find that old coot standing right there. “How do you always sneak up like that!?”

“You just gotta learn to be a little more attentive - just like me.”

“Sure, attentive is your middle name,” Sierra groaned, eying that grin on his face warily. “What has you so happy?”

“Paid a little visit to someone I used to know. That’s it.”

“From the smile on your face I’d bet it was hooker.”

“Someone a little higher up the ladder. Just a little higher. So what’s for grubs?”

“Our leftovers. The money’s gone.”

“That’s too bad but it’s for the best. Time‘s short, no point eating it away. We’d better set off.”

“Set off? We’ve no place else to go.”

“Sure we do. Home.”

“Back to Middle Park is it? So that’s why you’re so happy.”

“Can’t blame me. Look, the party’s over. We’ve run out of leads. Not that I don’t want to sit around moping on this or anything but there’s jack shit we can do now. We tried our best to help this guy. No one else did. No need to beat ourselves up over it now is there?”

“Old Rum, always the optimist in retreat,” Sierra said. “I don’t know what to say … there’s nothing left do to do so you’ve had worse ideas. Can’t believe we’re just going back to the park after all this. It’ll be like doing everything in reverse, except this time there’s nothing for us to achieve.”

“At least we won’t have to go tracking down complete strangers.”

“True. I don’t know, it just doesn’t seem right … us going all the way back to that place. I mean, for what? We don’t even have a reason to stay in Middle Park.”

“It’s our home. Don’t need a reason to go home.”

“Anywhere can be our home. All we have to do is sit down on a bench and we’re as good as home. What if we never go back?”

“You won’t miss our crap shack?”

“So named for a reason.”

“Quit the belly aching. That place is ours, public property or not. No one’s lost so long as they have a home to go back to, and so long as we have our little crap shack, we’ll do just fine.”

“You almost make the shack sound nice. No doubt I’ll find you plastered in it shortly after we get back.”

“About that … I’ve sort of been rethinking things. Well … I was sort of thinking of-”

Alex coughed once then fell forward onto the table. The seat fell from under him, dropping him to the ground. His skin flushed with a sudden heavy paleness. Blood dripped from his lips.

Sierra caught him before he could hit the ground.

“Alex!?”

He didn’t respond or open his eyes. He limped there in her arms like a lifeless mould of skin. Other spectators began gathering around the scene. Someone announced they were calling an ambulance.

It arrived on the scene after longer than it should have. With all the grace of circus clowns the paramedics bumbled from their wagon and plopped the tall man on an undersized gurney. For the ineptness they displayed it wasn’t difficult to pin point from where they came, and to where they would be taking Alex. So it seemed they’d gained a shortcut home, back to the hospital near Middle Park, where they had previously been taken after the fire.

In a matter of moments all talk of suicide and the man they failed to save became a fading memory as they gathered for an ailing friend.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 30

 

Darkness shrouded the hospital hallways. It was of course night-time when they arrived. Not night in the general sense but night-time as it falls in Winter. From the noises of New Years celebration building on the streets outside it might have been the thick of a busy Saturday.  

The Hallways did ring with those echoes of celebration but that’s all they were, the ringing cheers of someone else’s

party bouncing around in an empty drum. The hospital was notably vacant sparing the odd nurse or doctor wandering with torch or sometimes candle in hand. The power outage had of course taken worse effect on this run down old place so the staff did what they could with what little they had. What few patients remained seemed to have been confined to their rooms. As for the visitors … well the only visitors on this floor happened to be three homeless people with nothing else to do but linger in the hallways to occasionally rest on the cheaply set waiting chairs dotted along the sides.

Rum kicked one of those chairs over to stress what ever declaration he intended to make. “Asshole doctors! This is twice they made us wait.”

“It takes time, Rum,” Sierra murmured with little resistance.

“It’s already dark. In a few hours it’ll be New Year…”

“What are you thinking?”

“We’ve been here hours and they haven’t even told us if Alex is awake yet. Once all the drink related accidents start they’ll forget all about us, maybe even Alex.”

“We don’t even know if the doctors are aware we’re out here,” Henry mimicked. “He passed through different hands before he even entered the emergency room. No telling who he wound up with.”

With an agreeable smirk apparent Sierra straightened the toppled chair, for what it was worth. “We’ll just have to go see him ourselves, like last time.”

“Exactly like last time,” Rum added.

Sierra responded with a sort shudder of realisation as she heard those words and noticed where it was they were standing. “Like last time … It is exactly like last time. To think we went all that way just to wind up back here.”

Rum eyed the girl. “Bound to happen eventually. Reckon this is the only hospital in the city we could afford.”

“That’s not what I mean. You don’t remember?”

“If there’s any reason I should I was probably drunk at the time.”

“This is the exact same place we waited on Alex and Henry after they were caught in the fire. Remember, we were sitting on these chairs right here, you were going on about the big bad company when two police officers passed. They went up in that elevator right there.” She first pointed to a stairwell some ways down the hallway to indicate the way the officers came, then pointed to the elevator next to them for the way the officers left.

“Rings a bell. Two noisy cops blabbing on about the biggest case they’d ever seen in their life. What was it? Something about an apprehended suspect in some big crime case. Probably some pointless backwater shit.”

“Yeah,” Henry muttered with something of a titter, “some pointless shit.”

“That supposed to mean something?”

“W-what? No, it’s nothing … It’s just funny that’s all. Alex is normally the one who notices those pointless little things … the ones that usually get on your nerves. Now in the end he’s got the rest of you doing it.”

“In the end? What’s that supposed to mean?” Rum asked.

“Alex did seem pretty sick. Actually, he‘s been pretty sick for a long time now. We just didn‘t notice.”

“So? They’ll fix him up with some pills like they did last time. He just needs some supplements that’s all. You know the guy never eats right … and with our lifestyle…”

“And if it’s more than that? People shouldn‘t be sick this long.”

“Yet he’s made it this far. He’ll survive. I’ve seen that guy take a two by four to the face. He won’t let some god damned stomach bug take him out. He only collapsed in the first place because of all the walking we’ve been doing. Hell, I’ve been close to collapsing once or twice already.”

“Don’t compare yourself to this,” Sierra said.

“All I’m saying is it‘s probably not as bad as it seems. They’ll hook him up to some machine and give him whatever he needs.”

“What machine runs without power?” Henry asked.

“What you saying?”

“This power outage doesn’t exactly improve his chance.”

“He has all the chance!” Rum shouted, echo ripping through the hallway and disappearing down the endless shadow which consumed it. “He mightn’t even need a machine. Hell, we don’t know anything. Hold your complaints till the end.”

Sierra set herself down on the waiting chair. “Not much else we can do.”

    “Listen to you now. You managed to traipse across this city enthusiastically looking for a complete stranger but when it comes to the life of one of your friends you got nothing positive to add.”

“It’s just … he never told us. If this is nothing then why would he lie?”

“What makes you think he even knew?”

“Of course he knew. Think about all his coughing, his pale skin, how he never shows an appetite. And then the doctors gave him those pills … The signs were everywhere.” Sierra stared at the floor. “It was so obvious and I didn’t even notice.”

Rum stayed silent. He could feel some touching words arising from that dead beat heart of his, but somewhere along on the trip up they jammed and erupted as no more than an agreeable grumble. The silence resumed for a time.

Henry sat beside Sierra. “He was always like that. I guess that’s why he always came out with those useless facts and strange observations. He used them to avoid talking about himself … so he could carry his demons alone.”

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