The cold has officially set in. The usually busy streets of Newtown are almost empty when the afternoon light fades. People dress in big puffy jackets and oversized dark coats with bulky knit scarves draped around their necks, holding hot drinks and warm food that i am sure keep their belly’s full and satisfied.
Fred and I perch ourselves around a dwindling bin fire while blowing warm air into our hands to try and stop our teeth from chattering off our faces. We are standing so close together we could almost be hugging. People have donated a few winter clothes to the shelter recently but with more of us on the streets there’s not enough going round. Helen’s grabbed herself a bright pink oodie after fighting Eddie off for it. Poor Eddie, hes a bit of frail one. Not so strong in his old age. He’s got some old gloves with tears and a size too small parka jacket with only a thin cotton shirt underneath. I don’t know how he’ll last this winter. He managed to get some new track pants thankfully as his old pair had certainly had it. But still no shoes. Just some raggedy socks and thongs.
We’ve been standing round the fire all afternoon waiting on the news about what’s happening to our community. A few people who used to be regulars around here have recently stopped showing for their weekly meal and things are getting a bit suspicious, especially since these people aren’t the kind to just run off without saying a word to anyone. We might be homeless but we sure know a thing about community and sticking together. It’s important someone knows of your whereabouts, all sorts of things can happen to you out on the streets. Best to stay in a group to keep yourself protected.
I wake in a terrible fright. There is somone banging on my front door and screaming with a piercing shreak. “Help me, please! Somebody help me!” I race down the stairs almost twisting my ankle as I hurridly unlock the padlock. As I’m turning the handle a woman barges in, speaking frantically and pulling at her matted black hair.
“Call the police! lock your door! they are coming!” The woman pleads.
“Whos coming? What’s going on?” I’m barely half dressed and feeling disorientated. Is this a dream? Who have I just let into my house?
I try to rest my hand on her shoulder to calm her but she almost knocks me out as she swings her body away from me. It certainly jolts me awake.
“Ok. I need you to calm down and tell me what’s going on” I say to her sternly. “I’m going to call the police but first, what is your name?”
She doesn’t respond to me. Instead she’s scratching at her face and looking around the house as if trying to locate something she’s previously left here. She turns to me with a look that frightens me to my core. “They are you coming for you to now, there’s no escaping them, it’s too late” and she laughs in a hysterical panic.
She speaks as though she’s possessed by something. Her fingernails are chewed right down to the quick leaving almost nothing left to them. Blood stains and small paper cuts cover her small fragile body head to toe. I don’t even think she’s fully aware of where she is. I’m feeling a little frightened but I don’t believe this woman is really all there and what she’s saying is all that true. Perhaps the people chasing her are the ones in her mind.
I move slowely, carefully around the woman to the the kettle and where I keep my knives. I am trying not to frighten her more by any sudden movements but she doesn’t seem to notice my presence anyway. She’s speaking in tounges and seems oblivious to her surroundings.
“I’m going to make you a cup of tea, peppermint ok?” I turn to face her but suddenly she’s pressed up against me, a warm metallic smell expelling from her mouth. “It’s too late now, they’re coming” she learns closer towards me, reaching for the knives I was trying to protect myself with and with one swift motion she draws the blade across her throat, her blood splattering my face as her weightless body collapses to the ground.
I’m waiting for him at Al’s Diner. He said he’d only be 10 minutes but it’s been nearly 30. On a sunnier day I would have been mad that he’s waisting my time but today the weather is drizzly and cold so I don’t mind it so much being in here tucked away in the corner reading my favourite book. The red recliner which has been here for atleast a decade still maintains its soft plushness but has been perfectly worn in so that when you sit down you sink in just enough to never want to get back up.
Jenny feels bad that he’s keeping me so long so she keeps bringing me over more coffee. I like that she still works here even though she could be doing something else. She was offered a job out of town last month but she didn’t take it. Too much history here.
On the walls of the diner hang pictures of almost everyone in town. The frames sit lopsided on the red papered walls and some of them are placed so high that a thick layer of dust makes it hard to tell who’s who, but it doesn’t matter to anyone anyway because we all know we are up there.
We were meeting for lunch but at this rate he’s probably not going to show. I can smell fennel and garlic coming from the kitchen and fresh sourdough bread toasting in the oven so I’ve ordered myself the vegetable soup and I’m going to sit here with my book, a blanket and my food and enjoy my own company amongst the familiar faces in this room. I’ll be damned if I let him ruin my afternoon.
