Adapt (8 page)

The hours were long, the perception of time slowed. Daniel was not hungry but he queued with the rest in the canteen once dinner was called. The cook was a tall old woman with a head of tight curls. All six foot one of her was skeletal, each joint looked to pierce her skin. The large spoon in her hand was used to serve the minimalist menu. A large tray of mincemeat, or a smaller tray of what appeared to be the same. The hungry regulars all went for
the large tray and Daniel thought he would follow suit. Being the second from last in line he was surprised there was still plenty of mince and gravy in the large tray. The cook scooped the spoon into the small untouched option, ready to dump it on Daniel’s plate.

“I will have what everyone else is having, if that’s okay?” he asked. She stopped her action and looked up at him, her stare as if he had insulted her.

“That’s mince,” she said, pointing at the large tray. “So is this,” she said, pointing at the small tray.

“I would like it from the large tray, please.” Again she looked at him like he had audacity. Un-abandoning her original decision she scooped from the small untouched tray and slowly poured it on his plate, maintaining eye contact all the while.

“I hope you like it,” she said with a smile. Daniel didn’t protest a third time and took his plate to the nearest table.

Looking around he recognised most of the faces, all of which he had passed by on the ward, such as the Grand Master. Others he was better acquainted with, such as the woman whose vocabulary was limited.
You’re dead
reverberated in his head whenever he looked in her direction. On one table, however, there were three new faces. He didn’t recognise them. The man to the left was the tallest of the three, his head a good few inches above the other two whilst seated. His beard was a fiery ginger and unkempt. He wore a black beanie hat, and a black hooded sweater. The man in the middle was hard to distinguish due to his baseball cap. The fraying visor of the head-wear providing a shadowy guise, his head was tilted forward making it impossible for Daniel to get a clear look at him. The third man was clean shaven from chin to cranium. His face looked hardened and the scar running along his jawline was paired with another over his right eye.

Daniel cleared his plate, every morsel scraped into the bin, before placing it on the stack of dishes. He wasn’t hungry but rather felt sick, an unsettling nauseous feeling. Nerves, shock, apprehension, he knew not the reason but his stomach could face little. The smell from the kitchen was enough to deter him from eating. He decided to go for a cigarette and searched for the nurse. On finding the man armed with the lighter they walked to the yard. Once lit he sucked the smoke deep into his lungs.
This
will be my meal for tonight. I will skip breakfast and be home for lunch tomorrow.

The three men from the canteen followed a few moments later. They gathered beside him. An outdoor lamp illuminated the smoking area but the face of the baseball cap wearer was still hard to see.

“What’s your name?” asked the man with the scar. Daniel wanted solitude, space to breathe and think but he answered anyway.

“Daniel.”

“What’s your surname?” asked the man with the beanie hat. Daniel glanced at him. Rather than answer he responded with his own question.

“You know my name. What is your name?”

“You can call me Ginger-beard,” he said with a chuckle.

“I’ll do that,” Daniel said whilst breathing out smoke.

“I’m Scarface,” said the bald man.

“Of course you are,” said Daniel.

“I’m Reggie,” said the man with the baseball cap.

“Nice to meet you all.” Daniel puffed on his cigarette, closed his eyes and ignored the three, hoping they would continue to converse among themselves. He heard one of them move closer. Opening his eyes he saw Ginger-beard now within arm’s-reach. Scarface and Reggie homed in as well.
Leave me alone.

“He doesn’t want to be sociable,” Ginger-beard said to the others.

“It would seem that way,” said Scarface.

“I’ve had a bad few weeks,” explained Daniel. “I’ve got a lot on my mind and I’m not here to socialise. So please don’t take offence, guys.” Daniel looked away. Scarface gave Ginger-beard a smirk and they moved closer.

“I never saw myself as a vigilante, but I’m happy to be the giver of justice,” said Ginger-beard.

“I’ve always wanted to hurt a rapist,” said Reggie. The three were too close for comfort, making Daniel irritated with their presence.

“I agree,” said Ginger-beard. “I’ve always wanted to hang one. String him up and watch him die.” He was now within inches of Daniel’s face. “I heard there was one here tonight.”

“I heard the same thing,” said Scarface.

“Imagine that,” said Ginger-beard. “One lands in your lap and you’re allowed to do what you want with him.” Ginger-beard was six foot three, his head tilted forward nearly resting on Daniel’s head. He could smell the man’s breath and didn’t like it. All his other feelings, the confusion, embarrassment, all receded as adrenaline raced through his veins, his arms pumping with blood. The other issues that got him here were hard to understand, a struggle to solve. This was different. This was a quantifiable situation. He understood what he faced, it was basic. A problem natural for him to process, and decipherable with instinct. Thinking wasn’t required.

“Ease off,” Daniel said as he forced the man back, creating space between them. He noticed movement from his right. He glanced over to analyse the threat. Scarface looked ready. As he turned his attention back to Ginger-beard, the tall man’s head struck Daniel on the nose. The beanie hat softened the impact but his nose began to bleed. Daniel gripped his hooded jumper. His attacker drove forward. The movement of the large man was expected, telegraphed and taken advantage of by Daniel, the judoka, using Ginger-beard’s own entropy to gain an improved position. Energy traversed from the ground through Ginger-beard’s thighs and into his back muscle with force as he attempted to rush Daniel. Daniel absorbed and pulled, fuelling the momentum, twisting his hip swiftly and powerfully into Ginger-beard, throwing him to the concrete with a dull thud. With his opponent now on his back Daniel swung his hammer fist down. Scarface struck Daniel to the back of the neck, which hurt more than the head-butt. Two male nurses came hurtling into the yard. They yanked Daniel off of the man and pinned him on his back. Two more dutifully arrived to stop Ginger-beard from getting off of the floor. Scarface and Reggie stayed clear.

Daniel didn’t tangle with the interceptors, he knew who they were once he glimpsed the white coats. “I’m cool,” he said. “I was defending myself. It was a lucid judgement call. Don’t inject me or anything. I’m calm.” They helped him to his feet.

“You come in with us,” the nurse said whilst gripping Daniel’s arm. “You two stay with him,” he called to the pair restraining
Ginger-beard. They pinned him to the ground until Daniel had been escorted into the ward.

“Get off me, you bastards,” said Ginger-beard. Scarface and Reggie stood like bookends with their fists clenched.

“Let him up for fuck sake,” said Scarface. The nurses eased their position and released the man. Ginger-beard held his jaw as he got to his feet. The nurse brushed down Ginger-beard’s back and shoulders.

“Why did you do that?” asked the nurse.

“Justice can’t wait,” replied Ginger-beard.

“Justice can wait, and you had best see that it does,” said the nurse. “Be patient.”

“How can you expect me to be patient with that fucker?”

“Just be patient. Stay away from him for a while. If you can’t I will have you segregated.”

“Done,” said Ginger-beard. The nurse patted him on the upper arm.

“I will leave you alone, then. I’m watching you. Stay away,” said the nurse as he stepped down. The nurse made his way into the ward. Ginger-beard continued to rotate his jaw. Scarface and Reggie sauntered over.

“Where were you two?” he asked.

“Where were you?” said Scarface. “On your back.”

“Fuck off,” said Ginger-beard.

Daniel walked out of the ward toilets, his face washed and nose cleaned. Making his way to his bed the nurse in charge for the night walked passed rubbing his hands.

“Only me here soon. I will have my eye over everything so don’t be concerned,” the nurse said.

“I am not concerned by them. I have more on my mind than the three stooges.” Daniel continued to his bed and sat on its edge.
What a place. One night, and then home tomorrow
. The nurse followed him into the sleeping area with two plastic cups in his hand. Daniel looked up.
The men in white coats, what does he want now?
The cup was in front of Daniel’s face before he said a word.

“Take these,” the nurse said. His tone of voice more friendly as he tipped the cup for Daniel to peer inside. “These will help
you relax, every one of your worries will disappear.” Daniel eyed the three pills.

“I will give those a miss if you don’t mind,” he said rubbing his forehead.

“Have you got a headache?” the nurse asked.

“I do.”

“Take these, they will help. You clearly need them.”

“Okay.” Daniel took all three in succession. “My mind needs a break.”

The nurse smiled as he retrieved the plastic cup out of Daniel’s hands. “We will help your mind break,” said the nurse. Daniel looked confused.

“Excuse me, I didn’t catch that.”

“We will help your mind have a break,” the nurse repeated.

“Oh.” Daniel felt the need to lie down, he lifted his feet onto the bed and relaxed onto his back. The nurse leaned forward.

“Things are going to heat up now. You will see,” said the nurse. Daniel’s eyes felt heavy. He struggled to keep them open. The nurse stood at the foot of his bed. The room became blurry, his vision unable to focus. He moved his hands into view and tried to clear his eyes by staring at his palms. He looked over to the door and noticed a hazy white coat disappearing. He fought as long as he could until his eyelids had him submit.

Daniel opened his eyes. His pupils small dots as they adjusted. Lifting his head off of the pillow he tried to swallow but couldn’t. He tried again. His retching stomach heaved. He imitated throwing up and leaned over the side of the bed believing he was about to. He heaved a second time and began choking, then swallowing, then choking again. The lining of his throat and mouth felt coated. He flopped onto his back and rubbed his eyes. His right hand moved to his throat.
That really hurts.
Whilst rubbing his neck he simultaneously felt pain in his kidney area and the back of his head. He felt the need to attend all three but it was his throat that was most sore. Daniel sat up and brushed the back
of his left hand across his mouth. Turning his wrist to check the time he realised his watch was gone.
What is that?
he thought as he stared at the back of his left hand. A thick white substance was strung across it. His immediate reaction was to get it off quick using the bed sheet. He saw his watch on the floor and picked it up.
How long have I been out? Fifteen hours. Fifteen bloody hours.

The bump on the back of his head was sensitive when he was washing his hair in the shower. A mirror was nowhere in sight so he was unable to inspect his neck. He skipped breakfast; he desired no food, at least not within the walls that trapped him. Daniel waited to be seen by a nursing practitioner. A middle aged woman with long dark hair called him into the small room, one of many rooms off of the main corridor.

“My name is Jenny Green. What is the problem?” she said.

“This place isn’t right for me. I came in anxious that my privacy had been invaded. I have been here a day and I now have physical pain to deal with as well.”

“You started a fight last night. What did you expect?”

“I didn’t start anything. I don’t care about the fight, I just want to go home,” he said.

“You can’t, you’re under our care now,” she informed him.

“I came in voluntarily, I was told I could leave at any point. So can I leave? Today, please?” he asked.

“Why? Can’t you face the consequences of the things you have done?”

“Consequences. What the hell have I done? Should I be facing consequences?”

“There’s a growing number that think you should,” she said.

“This is unbelievable, can’t you just let me go?”

“No,” she said abruptly. “You are sick. A professional evaluation of your wellness indicates that you may be a harm to others. We will help you and it will be done in here. I have to go, I’m afraid.” She got out of her chair and opened the door. “You should go and watch some TV, I think it’s just what you need,” she said.

“That’s it, no consideration?” Daniel walked out of the door and said nothing more.

The day moved as slowly as the last, the urgency gathering in his assertion to leave. Unreasonable doctors, pain he didn’t
have before and he knew the ward was a prison in all but name. When he rang home his mother explained that Dominique had travelled up to visit as soon as she heard what was happening and that she would visit at six, and his parents would visit at seven.