030111: Jeanette Miles
"...great grand was a Miller Johnson, back when Miller was a common first name, who married my great ma, Anna, I can't remember her last name. She bore him three sons, the last two going off to America or somewhere, seemed the only place untouched by the War then. Took the life of their firstborn, didn't it. That was my grandfather...."
It had been raining the whole day, and when the fire trucks had driven off by noon time, the two patients had found themselves abandoned and summarily discharged, one of them not properly admitted anyway. With one umbrella between them they had decided to walk to the closest bus station, only to find that the bus service on strike for the day, the next subway station a good half an hour's walk, at least. Neither one of them had any money to afford a cup of tea at the more posh cafe restaurants located on this side of town, where the folk rarely had to use public transport anyway, and so decided to start walking instead,
Sil Crosby, surprised by his good fortune and not one to look a gift horse up the arse, had leapt into the topic of his family tree, ignorant to the fact that it was, or rather had been, a medically documented habit of his up until this morning, an indication of anxiety frequently followed by bouts of hyperventilation. He had volunteered to hold onto the umbrella, a sensible idea, he had argued, since he was the tallest of the two, although this stoop had reduced that advantage by a good inch and a half.
The rain was just again picking up on itself, although the umbrella was already trembling.
"...can't say that he knew that grandma was with child then, seeing as they never married, I'm not even sure if they were ever together. But she held onto the name, didn't she? Someone to mourn, y'know. So nine months later out comes my ma, and later on..."
Sil had failed to notice that his companion was trying her best to ignore him, always one step ahead of him, though they were walking side by side, the front of her boots and part of the denim jeans soaked in the rain. Being the taller of the two this kept them almost in stride, but as he droned on Sil felt that he was running out of breath quicker than normal.
"Here, why don't you slow down a bit?"
The unfotunate leer written into Sil's profile had a tendency of carrying onto his voice, as it did now, so that his request had a very different effect. Had the road they happened to be walking on not been as deserted, someone would have already pulled up ahead, convinced that he was harassing a minor.
Hair pulled back to reveal a soft neckline and face that seemed to have skipped the touch of time, Jeanette Miles, pulled at her collar with its woollen interior, continued looking ahead and, just for the heck of it, quickened her pace.
"I just want to get out of the rain."
"Sure we all do, I think I see another station up ahead."
The station was deserted, a helpful notice appended by the schedule board announcing the strike, its heading hightlighted in bright yellow. Without a word to each other they went on walking, continuing pass the station. A cold wind blew, the rain bowing momentarily under the vinyl coverings of the umbrella. Jeanette sniffed at her nose.
"Damn buses. They could have given us a ride back at the hospital." Sil was feeling uncertain now, he had finished talking about his family tree and wondered if he shouldn't start again. Perhaps he had left something out the last time.
The two of them continued walking in silence, the landscape offering nothing to distract them. Sensing that Sil would speak up any moment, Jeanette gave him a sidelong glance.
"I don't think I saw Mr.Kozak back at the hospital."
Her question, which was more of a statement, had the intended effect of shutting the man up for another ten minutes or so, and Jeanette had to stop herself from laughing. They soon arrived at a tunnel, the rain having picked up, and decided without speaking that they would rest for a bit.
Umbrella open and supported on the ends of its rims and the handle, Sil rubbed his free hands together to get out the cold, trying his best to sound casual and unconcerned while framing his question.
"Think he's okay?"
"Who?"
"oh, you know-"
"Mr.Kazok?"
"-er, yes..."
She had been staring out the other side of the tunnel, and now spun around on her burnt leather boots to face him, fountain blue eyes reflecting an age her body never could. Her whole face glowed for a moment, and Sil felt utterly disarmed from the waist down.
"Maybe you'll bump into him, and get to ask him yourself."
Out of view and around the bend, came the sound of an engine's roar.
It had been raining the whole day, and when the fire trucks had driven off by noon time, the two patients had found themselves abandoned and summarily discharged, one of them not properly admitted anyway. With one umbrella between them they had decided to walk to the closest bus station, only to find that the bus service on strike for the day, the next subway station a good half an hour's walk, at least. Neither one of them had any money to afford a cup of tea at the more posh cafe restaurants located on this side of town, where the folk rarely had to use public transport anyway, and so decided to start walking instead,
Sil Crosby, surprised by his good fortune and not one to look a gift horse up the arse, had leapt into the topic of his family tree, ignorant to the fact that it was, or rather had been, a medically documented habit of his up until this morning, an indication of anxiety frequently followed by bouts of hyperventilation. He had volunteered to hold onto the umbrella, a sensible idea, he had argued, since he was the tallest of the two, although this stoop had reduced that advantage by a good inch and a half.
The rain was just again picking up on itself, although the umbrella was already trembling.
"...can't say that he knew that grandma was with child then, seeing as they never married, I'm not even sure if they were ever together. But she held onto the name, didn't she? Someone to mourn, y'know. So nine months later out comes my ma, and later on..."
Sil had failed to notice that his companion was trying her best to ignore him, always one step ahead of him, though they were walking side by side, the front of her boots and part of the denim jeans soaked in the rain. Being the taller of the two this kept them almost in stride, but as he droned on Sil felt that he was running out of breath quicker than normal.
"Here, why don't you slow down a bit?"
The unfotunate leer written into Sil's profile had a tendency of carrying onto his voice, as it did now, so that his request had a very different effect. Had the road they happened to be walking on not been as deserted, someone would have already pulled up ahead, convinced that he was harassing a minor.
Hair pulled back to reveal a soft neckline and face that seemed to have skipped the touch of time, Jeanette Miles, pulled at her collar with its woollen interior, continued looking ahead and, just for the heck of it, quickened her pace.
"I just want to get out of the rain."
"Sure we all do, I think I see another station up ahead."
The station was deserted, a helpful notice appended by the schedule board announcing the strike, its heading hightlighted in bright yellow. Without a word to each other they went on walking, continuing pass the station. A cold wind blew, the rain bowing momentarily under the vinyl coverings of the umbrella. Jeanette sniffed at her nose.
"Damn buses. They could have given us a ride back at the hospital." Sil was feeling uncertain now, he had finished talking about his family tree and wondered if he shouldn't start again. Perhaps he had left something out the last time.
The two of them continued walking in silence, the landscape offering nothing to distract them. Sensing that Sil would speak up any moment, Jeanette gave him a sidelong glance.
"I don't think I saw Mr.Kozak back at the hospital."
Her question, which was more of a statement, had the intended effect of shutting the man up for another ten minutes or so, and Jeanette had to stop herself from laughing. They soon arrived at a tunnel, the rain having picked up, and decided without speaking that they would rest for a bit.
Umbrella open and supported on the ends of its rims and the handle, Sil rubbed his free hands together to get out the cold, trying his best to sound casual and unconcerned while framing his question.
"Think he's okay?"
"Who?"
"oh, you know-"
"Mr.Kazok?"
"-er, yes..."
She had been staring out the other side of the tunnel, and now spun around on her burnt leather boots to face him, fountain blue eyes reflecting an age her body never could. Her whole face glowed for a moment, and Sil felt utterly disarmed from the waist down.
"Maybe you'll bump into him, and get to ask him yourself."
Out of view and around the bend, came the sound of an engine's roar.