A Vagrant Story (43 page)

Henry sighed some agreement with her theory.

“Well then?”

“Well what?”

“What really happened to you?”

“Nothing. Nothing happened.”

“Stop it, Henry.”

“No. Nothing did happened, that’s the reason. My parents died. My brother went away for missionary work. I had nowhere else to go … I was … I‘m a loser, a no good dud. Rum was right.”

“Don’t say that. Those three words together spell rock bottom.”

“Why not? Even Rum’s got more friends than I ever did.”

“Drinking buddies aren’t friends.”

“How many drunks does it take to beat zero?”

“I’m sure you had some-”

“No.”

Sierra found herself snagged for further thought.

Henry, reading it on her face resigned himself onto one of those blanket covered crates. Seating himself there, he breathed out heavily, in regret of all he said.

“Then what about your parents? They cared about you, right?”

“They’re supposed to. Maybe they did too much. Maybe if I hadn’t lived under their protection so long I might have become a little more adventurous, set out on my own - at least that’s what I used to think. Now I know the truth.”

Sierra waited expectantly.

“I didn’t stay with them because it was comfortable. I stayed because I was afraid to leave. In school I was bullied. In work I was ignored. Even in queues I’d be skipped. It seemed every normal social situation proved difficult for me, and it wasn’t always my fault. A lot of people just don’t like me. That’s what I saw every time I went out alone. So I became afraid to leave. Then my parents’ died. It hit me like a wake up bell.”

“It was a car accident, right?”

“Something like that … I think of it as an act of God.” Henry paused. “It happened during the hurricane a few years ago. They were driving home from work and … Well, it picked up their car. We didn’t find them till a few days after.”

“That’s awful … What about your brother then?”

Henry laughed.

“What?”

“You didn’t give me your sympathies.”

“I think I’ve given you enough of those already. Besides, after all this time I can’t imagine saying sorry will mean much.”

“Thanks … I-I guess.” Henry paused. “My brother? His name was Leon. He moved away after the funeral.”

“How considerate.”

“It wasn’t his fault. He had to leave. He‘d been through too much already. The death of our parents just cut it for him.”

“He had it rough living here?”

“An understatement. One day the launderette he worked in got robbed. A customer interfered and well, things went wrong. If he hadn’t fainted he’d probably have been shot too.”

Sierra remained quiet a moment to vex her sympathies on Leon’s horrible situation.

“Then there’s that other story, the one I told you was mine.”

“About the shop that burned down? That actually happened to Leon?”

“Except nobody died in his version. Leon did run away, and a co-owner did get trapped in the fire, but that guy made it out okay, in a sense. He’d been badly burned and wound up with more than a few lost marbles. Since the man lost his mind the search for the arsonist couldn’t go forward successfully. The whole case was dropped and they never found the person responsible.”

“That’s awful. To think that person could get away so easily. He could still be out there. Creepy.”

“It was probably just one of the many dissatisfied customers the co-owner left behind. He was a crook, a con-man. It could have been anyone. Not that I really care. That co-owner probably caused more problems for Leon than the other things. I guess that’s why Leon wouldn’t comment who was responsible. If the fire hadn‘t made that man mad, his conscience should have,”

“Then why did Leon decide to go away on missionary work?”

“Leon was ashamed of himself for running away, just like he was ashamed for fainting during the robbery. He collapsed emotionally, and well … became a recluse. He started to believe he wasn’t meant to have a normal life. To be honest, it was first time I actually started to relate to him. And that’s when he went to a church.”

“A religious calling?”

“Sort of. It was the church a woman who died in the launderette robbery belonged to. Leon went to pay his respects when he started talking to the priest. It turned out he was the woman’s son and was actually present during the incident. They got to talking and somehow the priest managed to talk Leon into taking up a cause.”

“Let me guess, the priest had a plan.”

“He somehow convinced Leon to try missionary work. One month later he shipped off to Africa. I haven’t seen him since.”

“Manipulative freak.”

“No. That isn’t fair. It was Leon’s choice in the end. The priest just gave him an opportunity. I guess it was fate in a sense, meeting again the way they did. I‘m glad something came from it all.”

“Forget about faith, how did you feel?”

“I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want him to leave. I was just too gutless to argue, too gutless to understand my feelings at the time.”

“And now?”

“I don’t know … Maybe if I found out where about in Africa he is I could give him a call sometime. Wonder if he’d mind visiting his good for nothing bum brother.”

“Don’t say that. we’re all in the same boat y’know.”

Henry smiled. “The boat that’s always shaking, the boat that never sinks.”

Sierra returned a grin. “That’s so stupid, like something Alex would say.” She licked her lips in contemplation. “And John.”

“Like John? Hey I’m not that depressed.”

“Not him. I mean my foster father - John. You two are a lot alike in a lot of ways.”

“I see, so you’re trying to recover yourself now. A moment ago you thought I was too shady. Well I’m not letting you away with it so easy.”

“I lied about that.”

“You … lied?”

“That’s not really reason I avoided talking to you, at least not the main reason. I just said that to find out a little more about you. It’s just … whenever I hear you speak it reminds me of the way John spoke, even down to those awkward little stuttering moments of yours. You act like him so much you actually started looking like him … sometimes. I try my best to avoid thinking of him, so I avoid you.”

“Did … you two have a falling out?”

“Sure did. I killed him.”

Henry gasped. The action allowed him the slightest weight in his chest to prevent falling backward.

“At least I thought I did. All this time I believed I was responsible for his suicide. All this time I stayed in the gutter punishing myself. Only then it turned out to be all in my head. I thought I’d done something bad to him, when in reality it was stupid child shit hyped up in my own imagination. I always thought those I left behind would loathe me for it, but they didn’t even consider it. Now it feels worse.”

“Shouldn’t you be happy? You were looking for redemption now you don’t even need it.”

“I guess, for a long time I’ve assumed I was the only thing in John’s world. Turns out he had bigger things weighing down on him than a spoiled little girl. A lot of things I didn’t even know about - a lot of things I didn’t know about John. Reality is … now I realise … when he was alive … I didn’t try and know him better. He was just there, and I took him for granted.”

“I think you knew him better than you think.“

“How could you know?”

“Well … you did say I remind you of your foster father. You obviously know him to some extent, no matter how you feel about it now.”

“You can’t know how I feel.”

“Can I try anyway?”

“Knock yourself out.”

“I think you’ve been feeling guilt all this time. I think since you spent all this time running from the blame, you’ve really been running from what you really want. Now that you’ve been freed from the guilt, you still crave the blame. So you want another reason for someone to blame you.”

“You know a lot for a dud. I guess it’s like having a strong desire, a love that can never go anywhere. I need to be blamed.” Sierra let her upper body fall. “I want my life back.”

“You … have someone to go back to?”

“I … guess. She’s … sort of like family.”

“Then go to her. You said yourself, nobody stays homeless unless they want to. You don’t want to. I guess that means you’re free.”

“Free? Yeah, I guess I sort of am. Then again I still have that big bearded drunken ball and chain to look after.”

“Yeah I think he’d miss you. So would I … and Alex too.”

“I know. It‘ll be good when we‘re all back together in the park again. A little normality wouldn’t go amiss.”

Sierra leaned against the parapet to gaze out over the city again. The snowfall increased, near hiding the nearest buildings in view. Pretty soon it would be unadvisable to stay here.

“Hard to believe we’re so close to home, isn’t it?” Henry said.

“Yeah, the city looks like a winter paradise from up here.”

“Only cause we can’t see the dirt through the snow.”

“Yeah.”

A heavy swish of wind descended over the rooftop. A flurry fell along with, forcing Henry to huddle himself more intensely.

“Maybe it’s time to go back down.”

“Scared of a little cold? If I can handle it you should too.”

“H-hey, come on! You’re wearing almost four times the clothes I am. Besides, we should really get going. We’ve left Rum and Alex alone together, that can’t turn out good.”

“I guess. I’ll see you later then.”

“You’re not coming?”

“I think I’ll stay up here just a little longer. I’ve got some stuff to pine over.”

Henry shrugged, making way back to the roof access door from which they came.

Sierra waited till Henry closed the door behind him. At once she set her sights on what had fixated her since coming up here. Hopping to her feet, she grabbed one of the storage crates. Junk or not, there could have been something valuable inside. Despite expecting a struggle to pull off the frozen down lid, it slid off easily. Suddenly she realised these abandoned crates weren’t so abandoned. It seemed they’d been opened very recently. Her face twisted to horror when she found out why.

Chapter 32

Rum stomped his way out of Alex’s room into an empty hallway. “Ungrateful jackass.”

“Stay the hell out of here, old man!” Alex cried from his bed stricken state. “My heads sore enough without your help.”

Rum had only been awake a matter of minutes and already their quarrelling resumed. For what purpose neither really knew, or cared to remember.

For the time being Rum let it wash off on his back as he strolled away and down the corridor. “Lanky streak of piss,” Rum grumbled to himself. “Saying shit like that me after I bothered staying with him. The dud and Sierra didn’t even bother. Yeah, so what if I was asleep - it still counts!” He stopped to look up and down the empty hall. “Who the hell am I talking to? Damn I need a drink.”

“You weren’t talking to me?” an ominous voice spoke from behind, echo bouncing on the walls.

Rum wheeled round, stopping in wait so the voice could make formal introduction.

A doctor garbed in the usual white emerged from a stairwell behind. He wore a head of brow flat hair buzz cut to a perfect flatness. There was a light scar over his right eye which curved as his bushy eyebrows narrowed with interest. Though his features were more worn than the doctor named Adam, he seemed to bear a close resemblance.

The doctor, apparently embarrassed by the intrusion, bowed slightly. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.” 

“Don’t do that,” Rum said. “This place is too dark to be sneaking up on a fella.”

“That’s what I’m trying to fix.” The doctor held out a box of candles, a lighter in his other hand.

“Candles? ‘Scuse me, you are a doctor right? The hell you lighting candles for?”

“It’s the New Year … who needs me, the drunks? We usually leave those people alone until they sober up.”

“Mopping up after them would be more productive.”

“We have plenty of nurses available for that. In fact I believe that‘s where most of them are now.”

“Cut the crap, you got real sick patients in this place and you’re out here fucking about with candles. This is some sick joke.”