The fog has come
in quickly from the sea tonight, running cold through every aspect of the town,
past the dark windows of the houses and offices, across the pavement flags, even
into the breath of the people huddled at the taxi rank. The fog is claiming it
all, freezing it, possessing it utterly, reducing the town to a particled grey
blur, a bark in the distance, a hush.
‘I suppose they mean
this fountain.’
We take a torch and
climb out of the ambulance.
The gardens
spread out in front of us, massy and dark, a muddle of trees on the periphery, silhouettes
of shrubs and benches, whilst in the centre, rising silent and black, the fountain
itself. Across the other side is a public convenience converted into a cafe. We
can just make out two NFAs sheltering under the overhang of the roof, but they
seem happy enough, so we ignore them. Instead we walk on towards the fountain,
to see if our patient’s there.
I put the light
of my torch around the bottom of it, the empty basin, and then up the central
column. Three grotesque iron fish lie on their chins, twisting their tails and up
together to support the first of three scallop-shaped bowls. Duck-lipped,
bug-eyed, the nearest one stares back at me. I get the feeling if I stayed here
much longer the fog and cold would creep up my legs until I was petrified, like
him. Because of course, this is the secret, this is how these things are made,
in fogs like this. In five minutes I’ll be just another public sculpture, in a black
iron Hi-Vis, with a caught expression, like the fish. In memoriam: EMT. A traffic cone on my head every summer.
‘Over here.’
Rae’s found him –
I can’t believe I walked right past – an elderly man, lying on his side beneath
a bench, scrunched up as small as he can make himself, hidden beneath layers of
jumpers, coats, a hood and a beanie.
‘Are you all
right, mate?’
He groans awake.
Meanwhile, the
two figures from the cafe have wandered over to see what’s wrong.
‘It’s only Jed.’
‘What’s he done
now?’
‘Someone passing
on a bus saw him lying on the ground and thought he’d died or something.’
‘No! He hasn’t
died. Has he?’
‘Jed? Jed? Have you
died, mate?’
Jed groans some
more, and pulls his hood more firmly over his head.
Rae plays the
light over him.
‘We’ve just got
to reassure ourselves you’re okay and don’t want our help, Jed. Sorry to bother
you, but it’s a bit cold to be lying out here like this, don’t you think?’
‘What’s the
alternative?’ says one of the guys.
‘Round to your
place?’
The other one
stares at Rae like the fountain fish.
‘You’re nice,’
he gapes. ‘You can come and stay in our Garden of Eden anytime.’
‘Yeah,’ says the
other. ‘Come on, Eve. I’ll let you lick my apple.’
‘Okay, guys’ she
says. ‘That’s enough.’ Then to Jed. ‘Do you want our help, mate, or shall we
just leave you to it?’
‘Go away.’
‘Well that’s
pretty clear.’
She straightens
up.
‘It’s just
drink,’ says one of the NFAs.
‘It’s a good job
he is drunk n’all,’ says the other. ‘Otherwise
he’d get a bit...’ He adopts a gentlemanly fisticuff pose. ‘Know what I mean?’
‘Anyway, if you
could keep an eye on him,’ says Rae when he’s done. ‘Try and persuade him to
sit with you by the cafe. It’s too exposed out here.’
‘Right you are,
Eve,’ says one.
They turn and
head back to their pile of things over at the cafe; we go back to the
ambulance.
‘Hang on a
minute,’ says Rae.
She nips inside
the cabin, fetches out a blanket, then walks over to Jed again and drapes it over
him.
‘There you go,’ she
says. ‘Keep warm, mate.’
6 comments:
Rae is good folk.
Sure is. :)
Agree with tpals.
I've said this before Spence,but we're all a little more likely to be in The Garden Of Earthly Delights than The Garden of Eden.
More's the pity.
Did I tell you that when I was a kid I used to go to a dentist who had that painting by Bosch on the ceiling above the chair? *shiver*
And Queen Victoria stared on? And (as you're well aware!) they ain't fish (they were on my school blazer many years ago)
Cheers and belatedly a Happy New Year
Dave
Hey Dave!
Yeah, well, they're either dolphins or fish on steroids. But now you mention it, you probably wouldn't have had 'fish on steroids' as your school emblem, so...
Happy New Year! Have a good one!
Post a Comment