Thin Ice
Joel skated in ever tightening figures of eight until his spine wound up like a cork-screw. JD ran in mad circles around him, desperately compressing his deafening barks to a few strained yelps, quite like his boss’s split vocals. Sharon Lander was on Joel’s mind. How could he find out where she lived? He couldn’t ask Jason directly as this mission had to be top secret. Jason certainly wouldn’t approve. He’d tried to provoke an answer from his friend by stating casually,
‘So she moved right away - inter state?’
Jason had mumbled, ‘No, only a couple of suburbs.’
Joel could see he wouldn’t tolerate questioning on the subject, so he thought long and hard about what to do. Given his old street habits, he would have rifled through Jason’s belongings to further his investigations, but now the idea repelled him. It would be sacrilege to do such a thing to his new friend.
‘What kind of a sleuth are you then, Denby?’ he asked himself sternly. ‘You found Jason didn’t you? So you can find his woman.’ All he knew about Sharon Lander was that she was small and liked to skate on ice. Of course the ‘liked to skate on ice’ bit had to be the best clue as there were myriads of small women running about everywhere. A brain-waive struck Joel and he screeched to a halt in front of the post office. He’d remembered the huge map of the city on the wall in there. He was up the steps like a scalded rabbit. With some awkward mental gymnastics he deciphered the names of the suburbs in immediate radius to Jason’s and managed to copy them onto a scrap of paper. The next step would be to look up ice rinks in those areas. The post office was closing so he’d have to make do with a telephone booth book. Of course Joey Ainsworth had a computer, but Joel needed to keep this mission strictly under wraps. Telephone booths in themselves had become antiquated dinosaurs, but he remembered there was one of these quaint Dr Who-like structures right beside the police station. That in itself was disconcerting because he needed to find a book he could nic and view in comfortable surroundings, rather than jammed in a glass box in sub zero temperatures. Living with Jason had made him aware of his public nuisance value, which he gauged as considerable, and something he dearly wanted to change. Any citizen who headed for a phone booth and found the frustration of missing book would consider him a definite public nuisance, but as he skated in, he saw the receiver itself had already been half torn from its socket, and left to dangle like a dead rat at the end of a mangled cord. He regarded that as clear evidence somebody had been pushed beyond their limit at the end of a long day. No one could use it now. Relieved of his dilemma, he pounced on the book and shoved it up his jacket, escaping swiftly into the cold dusk, his conscience purged and free.
He reasoned that her address probably wouldn’t be in the phone book as she had left Jason less than a year ago, but it did have the addresses of the skate rinks. There were two within ‘a couple of suburbs’ of Jasons. Since they were closer to his school he decided to skate there afterwards, leaving JD home. He sidled into the first stadium, hat back and board under his arm. Would they give a kid like him any info about clients? He knew an angelic face paid off with some adults, even if it didn’t on the streets.
He offered the girl at the desk his most disarming smile, ‘My aunt, Sharon Lander, left some of her precious skating photos at my place. I’m sure she’ll want them back.’ He held up a convincing envelope. ‘She’s moved house since. Do you know where she is?’
‘Oh Sharon? yes.’
Bulls-eye! thought Joel. First skate rink, but then the girl gave a secretive frown.
‘It isn’t our policy to give out peoples addresses. I could ring her for you. She picked up the phone receiver.’
Fear lurched in his stomach. A phone call would be as useful as a hip pocket in his jocks. What would he say to Sharon? She didn’t even know him.
‘Ok,’ he replied smoothly, ‘but if she lives nearby, I can just post them under her door. I’ve skated a long way today.’ A noisy group of foreign customers approached the counter, and rescued him in time.
‘I suppose it won’t hurt,’ the girl replied hastily and scribbled an address. ‘Sharon’s only a few streets away. She turned away to the new customers.
‘Jackpot!’ thought Joel, but now he needed the street directory again and that was at Jason’s. Life specialises in being a nuisance, he grouched. Then he spied a tourist board with a map on it and skated joyfully over to it. He loved doing this and suspected JD felt the same when he found a squirrel on the trail!
Keeping left and right turns firmly in mind, he found Pincher street without much trouble and skated along until he found number one hundred and seventy-seven. A young woman was washing a car in the drive-way. Joel didn’t even know what Sharon looked like. He hadn’t been able to squeeze the slightest description out of the tight lipped Jason. Did his friend have to be such a difficult man to help?
He skated nonchalantly past her, trying for a good look. If this was Sharon, she was little and dark, with curly hair and black eyes. There was a slight smattering of sparse freckles on her face, and her lips were full as though there might have been a tad of African American in her. If this is Shaz, thought Joel, I approve. His artistic eye picked up a kwirky handsomeness in her face, something beyond ‘plain beauty.’ To Joel, there was plenty of what he thought of as ‘plain beauty’ around. Beside tall lanky Jason, this girl would look like a cute little school kid.
She washed the car with furious energy. Joel did his moves as he skated too and fro. Once she looked up and noticed him looking and waved cheerily, but mostly she jumped around like a little ant in her black tights and skivvy. She was on the bonnet, the roof, at the wheels and all around.
Joel did another U turn and came back fast. If this wasn’t the woman, he’d be very disappointed. Something about her simply yelled ‘Jason.’ His mind was racing. How could he get to meet her? How could he bring her back for his friend?
Just then a man came out of the house.
‘Hey, Mal!’ called Sharon happily. Joel took an immediate dislike. The Yerk was a Jason opposite – short and square with a self important walk.
‘Good job, Shaz,’ He called back, then sleezed up to her and began munching on her neck. Joel was horrified. He considered her Jason’s property! Never the less, he skated by, craning his neck. Any tips he could pick up on neck munching might come in handy for future Sally Grey scenarios. Alas, he was distracted a moment too long. His skate board hit a water trap and threw him headlong into a lamp post. He swore he saw it grinning, just before it struck. As steel and flesh met in the head-butt of the century, Joel heard a ringing noise reverberate through his head and all the way down his spine. He wasn’t sure whether the sound was between his ears or in the lamp post. A split second later, his crutch also connected with the offending object, freezing him in an agonising embrace before throwing him backwards onto the equally unyielding side walk.
Sharon gave a horrified shriek and ran to his aid. She put her arm under his shoulders as he rolled around, in semi-conscious agony, too embarrassed to do the Michael Jackson clutch. Pins and needles rushed through his body and he slipped from consciousness.
He woke groggily to find himself being pushed laboriously into the car. Through a weird buzzing sound, an irritated female voice echoed.
‘At least you could help me get him in.’
Joel felt blood trickle into his eye as an equally irritated male voice retorted,
‘I told you he isn’t our problem. Just phone an ambulance.’
Joel tried to say ‘creep,’ but it came out spastic and slurred, sounding more like ‘craaap!’ Damn it, he thought fuzzily, JD isn’t here. He has a talent for acting on my dislikes.
‘But ambulances take ages and cost a lot. He looks like a poor boy,’ he heard Sharon object.
‘Please yourself,’ came the resentful reply and the man stumped off into the house.
Sharon jumped into the driver’s seat and hastily backed out. As Joel faded into oblivion, he congratulated himself on
such a convincing way of getting to meet her. He couldn’t have done better if he’d thought of it himself. By the time he reached the hospital emergency, he was still aware, but extremely disoriented. Everything went round, and he felt sick - worse than the time he’d had a bad reefer. Since that, he’d decided his body didn’t like it and never smoked again.
When Sharon jumped out and pulled the car door open, he almost fell out.
‘Can you walk?’ She asked anxiously.
What did she mean ‘can he walk?’ Of course he could walk! What did she take him for, an idiot? He put both feet out and promptly fell on his face. Sharon grabbed him before he hit the tarmac and hauled his arm over her shoulder. She smells nice, he thought vaguely, and made a note of the scent. His nose seemed to be the only part of him still in working order. They staggered to ‘Emergency,’ where they were told to wait as there were more urgent cases before him, specifically, a group of users suffering serious pangs.
‘I’m a nurse,’ said Sharon, 'this kid has quite a concussion.'
‘Then you’ll know not to let him sleep,’ called the nurse as she hurried off.
‘At least, you could give him a pain killer,’ Sharon called after her. Joel wondered vaguely if that was for his head or his crotch. He wasn’t quite sure which was worse, but he felt a twinge of guilt because she was forced to stay and mind him. At the same time, he knew he needed to keep hold of her in order to make a more permanent connection, but he just couldn’t think.
‘I’m alrigh. Yew can gob.’ he slurred stupidly.
‘Alright? My foot! I can’t leave you like this! You’ll fall off the chair and hit your head again.’
‘I can lie down,’ he sighed blearily A nasty image of the man curled in the boot, bathed in blood, flashed before his throbbing eyes. Jason had said the guy was still in a coma. Joel wondered if he was in this hospital. Wow. He’d really have a headache when he woke up!
‘No you cant lie down, you’ll go to sleep,’ he heard Sharon's voice mumble as though under water.
‘I feel terrible,’ the sound his own voice blarted out like a saxophone.
‘I know, put your head on my shoulder. I’ll keep you awake.’
To be kept awake was the last thing he wanted and the idea of having his head on someone’s shoulder alarmed him. He’d never experienced that before, except with JD, who injected fleas into his hair. At least Sharon wouldn’t have any of those. His body felt awkward and distorted, like a Picasso painting, and he decided that he understood his famous fellow artist at last. The poor man must have suffered from some sort of severe pictorial dyslexia, caused by a blow to his head.
‘I’m going to talk to you and shake you to keep you awake.’ Sharon broke in. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Er Joel,’ he answered, and thought, Oh God in this state I’ll blow my cover. His mind felt like a very blunt instrument.
‘Suits you, someone must have been tuned in when they named you.’
‘Muzz be the only time,’ he retorted a little more savagely than he meant.
‘And you’re Joel who?’
‘Denby.’
‘Who lives where?’
‘Fifty four Delilah Street, Ridge Hill.’ It came out as a big sigh.
‘I should phone your parents and tell them where you are.’
‘Phone’s disconnected,’ was the glum reply.
‘I could drop in on them and tell them you’re here.’
‘Don’t bother, they won’t notice I’ve gone.’
Sharon looked horrified. She didn’t know what to say for a moment. She seemed to be thinking hard. Joel’s head dropped forward and she grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head up.
'Stay awake,' she snapped.
‘Ow!’ he yelped.
‘Sorry, but you’re like those kids my ex used to spend so much time on.’
Joel felt himself shrink to the size of a pea. After all, it was the likes of him that had caused her to leave Jason. Perhaps she had a right to pull his hair.
Sharon settled his head back on her shoulder. ‘Jase is a good man,’ she sighed. ‘He helps everyone. Seems I’ve gone from one extreme to the other with men.’
Too right, thought Joel, snapping out of his torpor a little. She had his attention now. There was one last rather scruffy patient left in the waiting room. He looked ill, but was alone and appeared to be asleep. Sharon seemed happy to prattle on.
‘Jase has such a good heart, but he’s so remote, it’s very hard to touch it. I think he’s scared of love. Don't think he got much of the real stuff as a kid.’
Joel felt even more uncomfortable. There hadn’t been much in his life either, and he was sure he didn’t know what it was either. Sally Grey had made life hard for him. She was scaring the living daylights out of him, yet he didn’t want to lose her. He felt for Jason, but realised that two drowning men can’t save each other. As for insight around the Sally problem, he decided Sharon would be the better bet. She continued blithely on,
‘The only time he’d let me close was in the bedroom. He’s a great lover, but you can’t do that twenty-four seven can you? There are other aspects of life that are just as important.’
Too much information thought Joel. A vague worry surfaced that his collision with the lamp post might have damaged his credentials, but it was better not to dwell on the matter. He wondered what she was going to tell him next? Maybe she thought he was like a hitch-hiker. The drivers tell all because they think they’ll never see the hitch-hiker again. He secretly hoped for all the info he could get, though he thought he’d better cover his butt for the future.
‘Sorry, I can’t understand a thing you’re saying,’ he slurred.
‘Not to worry,’ laughed Sharon, ‘I’m just using the chance to get something off my chest.’
When at last the nurse returned and delivered a pain killer, Joel dissolved into a world of cotton candy, though he was still half conscious. Sharon continued her chatter, but this time, try as he might, he really couldn’t understand it. Of one thing he was sure - he thoroughly approved of Sharon. As the room faded away, his last thought was; how can I get them back together?
The House of White Starch
Joel awoke in a starched white room, not feeling like himself at all. He’d never been in a hospital before, and felt like a wild animal trapped in a lab. They forced him to wear funny pyjamas, an item he’d never owned, but worse was that people in white kept waking him up and writing things about him on clip boards. He couldn’t wait to get out of there, but they insisted on doing what they called a ‘brain scan’ and put him in what felt like a long coffin. He was never sure when he should panic.
After rough night punctuated with nightmares of JD alternately chasing the devil or being eaten by him, Joel awoke wondering what time it was. He found it almost impossible to tell in the hospital environment, but then he smelled the lunch trolley. Ugh! He couldn’t think of eating. The room still floated with wispy things he knew shouldn’t be there, but this time, Jason stood amongst them. Joel blinked. Jason surveyed him with his cool blue eyes. As always with Jason, he didn’t know whether the look meant a reprimand or compassion. Joel wondered if he was really there, or if his beleaguered brain had imagined him? Then the apparition spoke,
‘Doctor told me you tried to hump a lamp post. I have to say bro, you could do better.’
Joel tried to laugh, but his head thumped and he became aware of an uncomfortable tube sprouting from between his legs and attaching itself to an embarrassing bottle strapped to the side of the bed.
‘No permanent damage done,’ Jason put in quickly. ‘Doctor also said you have a fairly thin skull, so head butting solid objects shouldn’t be part of your career.’
‘Thin skull?’ moaned Joel, ‘Not another problem’ He felt he already had enough disabilities to sink the Queen Mary and didn’t need another.
‘Well, I’m glad you don’t have a thick one,’ snapped Jason, ‘I’ve seen enough of them.’
Joel’s heart swelled with warmth. Good old Jason. He’d bothered to find out where he was! He realised he should have told the nurses to phone him, but they had assumed Sharon was his next of kin. He wasn’t used to having anyone look out for him, certainly not two in twenty-four hours. The emotional meal felt just a little too rich. He had to swallow hard to keep suppress sudden bubble of tears which surfaced containing his neglected childhood. He had never allowed himself the luxury of wallowing in self pity. He remembered that lately, Sally was looking out for him too, in a different way but he was so afraid, he only gave her enough time to string her along. It troubled him to admit he would have to make some sort of a move soon, if he didn't want to lose her. Jason’s voice broke into his dilemma
‘How’d it happen?’
Joel decided to go as close to the truth as possible. Jason wasn’t a person to lie to, but he could allow himself a few strategic omissions. ‘I was watching a couple pashing and I ran into a lamp post,’ he replied glibly
Jason dissolved into laughter, ‘Rough lesson,’ he chuckled.
‘Yeah, I needed a few hints.’
'I meant a lesson not to purve on others!’
‘I don’t purve, I was gathering info,’ Joel bit back so furiously that Jason backed off holding up his hands.
‘Okay, okay, but tell me where it happened?’
Nosey bugger thought Joel, but decided not to lie about the location either, he so wanted Jason to trust him. He wouldn’t put it past the cop to casually check with the ambos.
‘Down on Higgins Street in Eland.’
He saw Jason hesitate. Of course he knew where Sharon lived. ‘What were you doing way over there?’
‘I was looking for a friend called Damien who moved away from my school.’ The explanation seemed to satisfy Jason, but then again, he couldn’t quite tell. Still, Joel felt smug. It gave him a reason to be over there often without the need for more explanations.
‘Sorry I didn’t tell you I was here,’ he apologised. Changing the subject seemed like a good idea.
‘I don’t think you could have, in your state,’ observed Jason. ‘Look, I’ve got to get back to work. You’ll be here for another day or two. I’ll feed JD, but don’t expect me to walk that maniac. He only answers to you.
‘Thanks,’ said Joel weakly as Jason made to leave. There was a lot more he wanted to say but couldn’t think of words that didn’t sound silly. As Jason strode across the ward he glanced down the adjoining corridor. Joel saw his eyes widen, then darken for a moment, then he was gone. What the heck had he seen. It seemed really scary, and obviously it was coming this way!
He felt abandoned for a moment, but a few seconds later, he understood Jason's panic. Sharon bounced into the ward. She stopped abruptly, frowning.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Joel even though he had a pretty clear idea.
‘Oh, I just thought I saw the back of my ex’s head, leaving through that door.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Of course you probably know him.’
‘Know who?’ Joel was all angelic innocence, but he didn’t like being forced to lie when he was trying to reform.
‘Jason Lander!’ she delivered the name like a hammer blow.
‘Never heard of him.’ The statement felt terrible as it came out of Joel’s mouth, like Peter denying Christ.
Sharon breathed a sigh. ‘I seem to see him everywhere. I mean, I see men I think are him. Don’t worry, I’ll get him out of my hair soon.’
Not if I can help it thought Joel.
She smiled apologetically. ‘Sorry, this should be about you. How are you feeling?’
Joel felt his cheeks redden as she leaned over him with concern. He hadn’t entertained the idea that she’d come back to him. What if she and Jason had collided by his bed-side. Wow. It had been close. He could see that Sharon was still 'holding a candle for Jason', though neither were ready to meet again, and that if his orchestration was to work, he’d need to be a very clever conductor.
Salt and Pepper Short Stories and Poems Page 13