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Authors: Paul Croasdell

A Vagrant Story (28 page)

BOOK: A Vagrant Story
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That seemed to explain the broken door chain.

A scurry of movement came from inside the room. A tiny voice piped out, and through the open door appeared a child to match. She stood about the height of an adult’s knee, red haired and clothed in pink pyjamas. She removed her pacifier in preparation to speak.

“Da-ddy?” she said.

The mother flung a blocking arm across the door frame, as if to prevent the late night callers from seeing her. “Go back to bed Emma!”

“Daddy’s visiting tonight?”

“No! Your father hates you, he’s not visiting.”

“He said.”

“He lied. Remember, your father likes to lie?”

Alex dipped under her arm to get a look at the child, to reaffirm something he noticed on that previous glance. She stood in shallow light but there seemed some pale discolouring on one of her eyes. It looked like an over glossing of various creams and makeup dashed on for concealment.

The child slinked away in tearful silence. Sierra couldn’t help but choke at the sight of it.

“Now look what you people have done. You call around late like this then you end up getting the kid upset.”

“Us?” Sierra replied.

Rum pushed up front. “Look, abuse whoever the hell you want on your own time. We’re looking for John Reagle, your ex-husband, can you tell us where he is?”

The woman scowled. “Haven’t seen that bastard in months.”

“Have you tried ‘looking for him?’” 

“Look at you acting up on me, you can’t even dress yourself. You look like some dumb drunk bum. What do I have to say to you - nothing!”

“Yeah, this whole trip’s starting to make sense now. What d’you know, I’m actually starting to feel for the guy,” Rum said.

“You people end up bringing that idiot back here and I’ll sue you worse than him. John’s got a mile wide restraining order pinned to his ass, what do you want?”

“Bitch,” Rum added eloquently.

Suddenly the door went slamming to close. The woman screamed something illegible but quietened when the door bounced back for something blocking its way.

She re-opened it to clear the blockage, but instead stared vehemently at Henry, who held his foot firmly in the way.

“Move it.”

Henry returned the glare with one of his own. He bore an oddly vacant expression, one so vague it offered a multitude of possible meanings while presenting nothing clear at all. It was the look of a man capable of doing anything. Under it all, a callous little smile cut from one cheek to the next.

“Let’s reaffirm our priorities,” he said.

The woman stuttered on her words as if trying to argue the point further, then seemed to freeze as if re-examining those on her doorstep. First she had looked down on them and seen only four lowly wrecks, now she saw four figures draped in the sullen shadow of the hallway. They grouped together under darkness, each larger than her and only now showing their true colours.

“Jack Matters sent you to collect the payment,” she stated.

The four bums half looked at one another curiously. It was a name they hadn’t heard in a while, but seemed finally to have some use.

“You’re damn right he did!” Rum proclaimed, with a show of hesitation from the others.

With that the old man became inquisitor.

At once the woman’s demeanour collapsed, voice returning to that frail little squeak with which she first greeted them. “I always try helping Matters, you know that, right? He told you that, right? I even stole one of John’s cheques and gave it up to Jack.”

Rum’s interest peaked. “You mean the donation cheque for Grey Oaks retirement home? So you gave that to Matters?”

“How was I supposed to know he couldn’t cash the thing? Do I look like I use cheques? I tried help, that’s all. John’s the one who was giving Jack’s money to that slut who worked at the retirement home. It’s his fault.”

“So that’s how Matters got hold of that. You know John got beat up over that?”

“Like I care.”

“What was that cheque worth, like two grand? I can see why the two of you stay so distant.”

“I threw John out months ago. Last I heard he moved further up North. It’s a place called Apple-glade.”

“Apple-Glade … rings a bell. Fancy corporate owned estate by the seaside. What’s a bum like John doing living up there?” Rum asked.

“His parents died, see, and left their house to John and his sister, Anna. John used to look after the house with his sister up until she died after all that fucked up shit with the … well forget it. He started running out of money, and last I heard he was about to be kicked out.”

“So he might not live there anymore?” Rum asked.

“That’s all I know. If he ain’t up there then he could be anywhere. Don’t come knocking on this door again, I don’t know anything else. I want nothing to do with John anymore.”

Rum nodded satisfaction.

Henry took it as an order to remove his foot.

The woman faded back behind the door. “That’s it now. Don’t bother me anymore or I swear to God…”

Her empty threats vanished behind a slamming door. The four had only turned to leave when muffled voices began yelling on the other side.

“Little brat, I told you to stay in your room!”

“They were talking about Daddy.”

“Forget about him and go to bed!”

Rum sent a frown straight through the closed doorframe. On a kind of instinct he stepped up as if to kick the whole thing down. He’d show that woman what’s what.

Sierra tapped his arm for calm, shaking her head to disperse the thought.

Rum huffed compliance, turning to lead them back downstairs from whence they came.

They retraced their steps out the maze-like lanes to riverside, wandering to that arched bridge at the heart of this district. It was there Henry sat on the bridge wall with a need to soothe his foot.

Alex stopped to wait for him. “I suppose your foot must hurt after all that.”

“To be honest I didn’t think she’d slam the door so hard.”

“She’s deceivingly strong, that woman. Guess people can’t always be so predictable, right Henry?”

Henry grinned with guilt. “I did act a little strange. I suppose she caught me at a bad time. Figures … We’ve been walking all day and it’s getting late – call me cranky.”

“Cranky? Downright despicable is what I’d say,” Alex said.

“Old hag looked ready to wet her pants!” Sierra added.

Rum laughed. “I’m the one what scared her. Henry makes a good doorstop though. Ain’t that right Henry?” The old man delivered a jesting punch to Henry’s shoulder.

Short of keeling over on it, Henry rubbed his shoulder to health. Now he’d two places in need of heeling.

“I need a break.”

“Not until you tell us what got into you,” Alex said.

“Nothing to tell - I just haven’t done anything in a while.”

Henry laughed wryly and the others couldn’t argue.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 20

 

They chose to set up camp at the nearest location granting privacy. It so happened to be a cosy patch of land directly beneath the bridge. A ladder took them down to what appeared to be a small docking point or platform for bridge repairmen. In either case it was something of a concrete ledge hanging over the water surface.

Despite the hail of snow this little area remained dry enough for Rum to spark a fire from the rubble of an extinguished one. When in full blaze, the old man sat back to admire it with architect’s pride. Lavishing in its heat, he removed his green trench coat and everything from waist up. He could bare the cold for this rare chance to let his clothes dry out. Bare chested, he leaned back against the bridge arch like a man already asleep.

Alex sat washing his feet over the side when he glanced at Rum. It was an odd sight to witness the old geezer without those many layers of clothes. Maybe it was merely unconventional to go through the trouble of removing them all. He looked somehow smaller without them. A bony outline stuck out through his skin, his ribs most prominent of all. Anyone who saw Rum like this would be forgiven if they took him for a pushover.

Alex looked away toward the now distant church. Lamps on the streets above took away much of the Victorian allure to this place, instead painting it in a coat of neon white light. The surface of the river had been caked in a carpet of pure light. It glowed with a certain ominous foreboding, while rippling beautifully on the current. Alex took it with a sense of awe, for both its ability to inspire and the shear unnatural allure of it all.

Alex placed his thoughts on hold in lieu of an itching feeling rising from his chest. He held hand over mouth to pre-emptively catch a cough. It came, and more came in quick succession. He descended into a short, but horribly choking coughing fit. When cleared he removed a case of pills from his pocket and popped one into his mouth.

Sierra sat down beside him. “Your cold coming back? It’s probably the water.”

Alex took the hint to remove his feet from the drink.

“Those are the pills you got at the hospital?”

“Yeah. They’re useless though, nothing but supplements really.”

“Can I see them?”  

Alex already threw the pill case into the water by time she finished asking. It splashed in and went away with all the other floating garbage.

He shrugged. “That was the last one.”

“So you don’t need them any more?”

“Weren’t you the one who said you never rummage around in other people’s business?”

“I know but … you’ve been sick a long time. I’m worried.”

Alex smiled. “I know.”

“Ain’t that sweet,” Rum bellowed behind them.

“What? You got a problem with this?” Sierra screeched back.

“Not you, look at him!” Rum pointed at Henry, who lay sprawled out in total slumber, suckling on his thumb.

“So? He does that all the time,” Sierra said.

Rum leaned over and smacked Henry back to consciousness. “Hey Henry! I said isn’t that sweet!”

Henry stirred dumfounded. “Wha-? Something happen? Who woke me?”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“So you’d pay attention. Gotta pay attention.”

Henry stared back unimpressed. “But I was sleeping.”

Sierra giggled inwardly. “Rum! That was mean. Henry, since you’re awake could you help manage the fire?”

“I don’t want to be awake! We’ve been walking almost three days straight and this is the best chance to sleep I’ve gotten. Even in the hostel there was this creepy old guy who kept staring at me through the dark – gave me chills, kept me awake all night.”

“Mirrors will do that to you,” Alex mumbled.

Sierra lay back in contemplation. She stared out at the snow flurried sky. “Wow … three days down already, five more to go. It’s taking longer than I expected.”

“Not long to go now though,” Rum said. “We’ve finally got his address. Apple-Glade ain’t so far away. With any luck we’ll get there tomorrow to find him waiting.”

“And if he’s not?” Alex asked.

“Game over. Things will turn out however they were meant to turn out.”

“Since when do you care anyway?” Alex asked.

“I don’t suppose I do, really. But after meeting John’s ex-wife I’ve a right mind to run around this whole city telling everyone who knows her to forget about her. If she’s in any way responsible for John’s predicament, then that’s exactly what I’ll tell him. People like her don’t deserve the trouble.”

“What happened to, ‘don’t judge people you don’t know’?” Alex asked. “When I got mad at the Nurse at the Grey Oaks, you all said I was looking down on her. Now it’s open game with this woman?”

“You saw how she treated that kid. She doesn’t deserve to have a child.”

Henry sat up. “It’s … not really our place to judge. If she doesn’t deserve to have a child … then something will work itself out. Something will get the kid out of there, I suppose.”

“Ain’t that simple. They’re in poverty, not prison. What if that something never comes?” Rum asked.

“Kids grow up … their fists get bigger.”

“Something tells me the mother will be long gone by time that kid grows up,” Sierra said.

Henry sighed and lay back down. “Then we’ll just have to make sure she’s left with a Dad.”

“Just when things look simple we get another worry on our plate. In any case, whatever needs doing should get finished tomorrow,” Sierra said.

BOOK: A Vagrant Story
10.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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