Oblivious (14 page)

Joe wasn’t able to get any sleep, but he was able to rest long enough to gather up the energy to be able to move at a better speed. He pushed the carpet from around his body and stepped out slowly from between the dumpsters. Checking the alley in both directions he was unable to see anything that concerned him.  He walked slowly down the alley, in the opposite direction of the previous night’s confrontation and went to the street. Keeping alert to everyone around him, Joe walked down the street with the morning sun burning onto the back of his neck. He walked past a few people on their way to work, but not many seemed to pay an attention to his bloody, dirty face as they were too busy on their way. Joe tried to keep his composure and walked several blocks without a thought for where he was going. Reaching a park area, Joe sat on a bench below some trees and watched the world rush by. At the end of the bench was a drinking fountain that Joe was able to use to wash the blood and dirt away from his hands and face, helping him to blend in more. He sat on the bench for several hours as people went by without a thought for his presence. A few people threw scraps of food and drink into a waste bin and Joe consumed whatever was disposed of to try and keep his energy up.

As the sun moved across the sky and the commuters went home at the end of the working day, Joe knew that he needed to find somewhere to sleep as he did not want to spend another cold night on the street. He walked across the street and up a couple of blocks to a bus stop. Standing for some time in the entrance of an abandoned shop, Joe watched each person get off each bus as it stopped. Five buses came and dropped off passengers but Joe remained standing on the kerb, watching as each one left. As the next bus pulled to the stop, a few people got off along with a familiar face, it was Francis, still dressed in her nurses uniform covered by a long, black overcoat. Joe stepped out of the doorway as she walked past and followed her for a few steps before speaking.

‘Francis.’ He said, placing his hand on her shoulder to stop. She turned and looked at Joe,

‘What the hell, Joe?’ she said, surprised to see him, ‘What are you doing here?’ She grabbed him by the arm and quickly pulled him to one side, out of the view from the busy street. ‘Everyone is looking for you, Joe. What are you doing coming here? They could be watching me.’

‘I’m sorry, Franny.’ He said with a look of desperation in his eyes. ‘I have no place else to go. I’m innocent and can prove it, Franny. I just need your help.’ Francis looked at Joe with clear concern.

‘How can I trust you, Joe?’ she said shaking her head, ‘Me and Doctor Gable were willing to help you but you decided to run away.’

‘I know, but.’

‘Don’t even start on me, Joe. We have been questioned time and time again by the prison board about what happened and we had to tell a lot of lies to cover for you. And then there is the Warden, let’s just say he was not at all happy about what happened. I’m lucky I didn’t lose my job over this.’ Joe reached his hand out and caressed Francis gently on the arm.

‘I know what I put you through and I’m sorry.’ Francis stepped back and pushed his hand away.

‘You don’t know, Joe. And what’s worse is that you come here and ask me for my help. I don’t know what I can do to help you. You have to turn yourself in before we both get into more trouble. And if you don’t do it, I will.’ Francis started to walk away and Joe grabbed her by the wrist.

‘Please don’t, Franny. You are the only person left that I can turn to. I’m begging you to please hear me out. Let me explain and if you still want to turn me, then fine, but please just listen.’ Francis could see the desperation in Joe’s eyes.

‘Okay,’ she said with concern, ‘but if I don’t like what I hear, I’m going straight to the police. You have one hour and that’s it.’ Joe gave a smile as he was glad with what he heard,

‘Thank you, Franny. Let’s go to your house and I’ll explain everything.’

‘No way,’ said Francis, ‘I have only agreed to listen to you for now. Around the corner is a bar called Geri’s. I’ll meet you there in twenty minutes. I just want to go home and get changed; I don’t want to be seen with an escaped criminal in my prison nurse’s uniform.’ Francis walked away and continued down the street, leaving Joe feeling a bit relieved and happy that she didn’t scream out for help.

Joe took a slow walk around the corner and found Geri’s Bar. He could tell that this was the kind of place that was not popular amongst the tourist and anyone who did walk in through the doors was not questioned about their motives or reasons for being there. From the look of the front, the interior décor would probably be as old and dilapidated. Joe walked through the door, the instant musk of stale beer and cigarette smoke overwhelmed all his senses. Keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the floor to not draw unwanted attention, he walked past the bar to a table towards the back. He sat in the chair facing the door, looking through the thick, dense smoke in the air. The bar was not at all busy, with the only people being two men sitting at the bar, the barman and two men sitting at another table ready to pass out with the amount of alcohol they had already consumed. He looked at the clock on the back wall; it was showing five fifty-five which didn’t mean much to Joe as he didn’t have much sense of time anymore.

The barman walked up to Joe and stood over him.

‘Sorry, fella.’ He said tucking a small towel into his back pocket, ‘We’re not a homeless shelter. You either buy a drink or you get out.’ Joe looked up at the barman who showed no signs of emotion.

‘I’m not homeless.’ Joe replied. ‘I’m meeting someone here. She will be here soon.’ The barman shook his head in disbelief.

‘If you say so, but if you are sitting here, you need to buy a drink.’ Joe dipped his hands into his pockets and emptied the contents on the table. All that he placed down was a lighter and an old tissue that looked like it had been washed with the trousers. The barman leant forward and placed both hands on the table.

‘I don’t want any trouble here, but if you haven’t got any money, you’ll have to get out.’ Joe rubbed his hand across his head.

‘I don’t want any trouble either.’ He said slipping his hand around his back, ‘I just want to wait for my friend.’ He took the gun that was concealed under his jacket and held it out beside him for the barman to see. ‘If you can just leave me alone, I’ll leave you alone. I just want to meet my friend.’ The barman took a step back and raised his hands.

‘Hey, buddy. I don’t want any trouble but if I have to call the cops, I will. I am going to get back to my customers, but if your friend doesn’t show, I want you to leave, with no trouble.’ Joe slipped the gun back into the back of his belt.

‘As soon as I’ve met my friend, I’ll leave.’ The barman walked back to the bar and served the two patrons, continually watching Joe as he sat in silence.

Joe sat patiently waiting, tapping his thumbs on the table like a drum. He stared at the door, turning his eyes to the clock every few minutes. The two men at the bar kept looking over at Joe and he knew that it would only be a matter of time until someone recognises him. The clock now showed twenty past six, Francis was late. Joe shook his head in disbelief and rubbed his face with his hands wondering what to do next. The barman stepped to the end of the bar and placed a handgun on the counter.

‘It looks like your friend isn’t coming, pal.’ He said with his hand resting on the pistol, ‘So I’m going to need you to leave now.’

‘She will be here soon.’ said Joe, ‘Please give me a little longer.’ The barman held the gun in his right hand and pointed it in Joe’s direction.

‘Here’s the thing,’ he said resting both elbows on the bar, ‘you will be leaving here on your feet or feet first. I know who you are and that I could probably get a large reward for your ass. I don’t mind you coming in here because we all have our own little secrets and I need to protect mine along with my bar.’ Joe pushed his chair out and went to stand. The front door of the bar opened and both men turned their attention to it. Francis walked in, wearing a t-shirt and jeans with a green baseball cap shadowing her face. The barman slid the gun from the counter and placed it on a shelf below.

‘Is this your friend?’ he asked. Joe nodded as Francis approached the bar. The barman stepped towards Francis and they spoke briefly. He placed two drinks on the bar and Francis gave him some money and took the drinks to Joe.

‘Sit down, Joe.’ She said placing two glasses of beer on the table, ‘You don’t want anyone to recognise you.’ Joe sat down slowly, watching the barman staring back at them both.

‘I got you a drink,’ said Francis sliding one of the glasses towards Joe, ‘I figured you probably need this.’

‘Thank you.’ said Joe raising the glass to his lips and take a large mouthful of beer. ‘You forget how good something is until you no longer have its pleasure.’ Joe placed the glass back on the table, ‘I don’t remember when I last had a beer, but I do remember my first. I was just fourteen when me and my brother Tom sneaked into our Dad’s bedroom. Tom is a couple of years younger than me, he would follow me anywhere and I would always look after him and make sure he didn’t get into any trouble. Well, not any more trouble than I would get us in. We found two bottles of beer in the bottom of my Dad’s wardrobe. He would hide it from our Mum because she didn’t like him drinking but we knew he did. Me and Tom took the bottles and sat under the stairs while we finished them off. They disappeared so quickly, like lemonade. The beer went straight to our heads and we ended up going to sleep, only for Dad to come home from work and dragged us out by our ears. He gave me such a beating; I couldn’t sit down for a week.’ Joe smiled recollecting his memories. He picked the beer to take another mouthful only for Francis to place her hand over the glass.

‘That’s a nice story, Joe.’ She said forcing him to place the glass on the table, ‘but I’m not here to listen to your childhood stories. I told you I would give you an hour and so far you haven’t given me a reason not to turn you in.’ Joe stared down at her hand on her glass and touched it gently with his.

‘I will tell you everything, but I need you to know that I will deal with things in my own way.’ He leant forward to talk quieter to ensure nobody could overhear. ‘I’m innocent, Francis. I didn’t kill Gina and Mary.’

‘So you keep saying, Joe.’ said Francis, ‘but I can’t help but ignore what I’ve read and the fact that you went to court and they found you guilty. If you are saying you didn’t kill them, then who did?’ Joe looked Francis in the eyes.

‘They are still alive.’ He said without breaking his gaze.

‘What do you mean still alive?’ asked Francis. Joe told Francis the full story of what he has found out so far.

‘I can’t believe it.’ said Francis, ‘What are you going to do now?’ Joe lent back in his chair.

‘I’m not sure,’ he said rubbing his brow, ‘but I need your help to find out what’s going on. Can you help me?’ Francis looked at Joe with concern.

‘How am I going to help you and where are you going to stay?’

‘Well that’s the thing.’ said Joe, ‘Can I stay with you for a little while? I promise that once I have proven my innocence I’m going.’ Francis sipped the last amount of beer in her glass and placed it on the table.

‘Your time was up five minutes ago, Joe. If I wasn’t going to help you I would have left by now and be on the telephone to the police. You can stop with me, but if there is any sign of trouble, I’m straight on the phone and you will have yourself to thank.’ Joe started to smile.

‘Thank you, Franny.’ He said with a sigh of relief. Francis stood up from the chair. ‘Where are you going?’ asked Joe.

‘Well, I’m not going to sit in this bar all night, Joe.’ She replied, ‘And I think you need a shower, judging by the sight and smell of you. Let’s go.’ Joe drank the last of his beer and stood up. They both walked out of the bar without making eye contact with any of the occupants, including the barman.

By this time, the sun had already begun to set and darkness was coming along with the cold night that Joe had already experienced. Francis walked down the street without saying a word as Joe followed.

‘Slow down,’ he said dragging his leg, ‘I can’t walk that fast.’ Francis stepped down an alleyway and kept on walking at a brisk pace, ‘Franny, slow down.’ Joe shouted as she got further away from him. Francis stopped suddenly and turned to face Joe.

‘We need to get out of the public, fast. If I am seen with you they will lock me up, you will probably get sent to a different prison and they won’t care how innocent you claim you are. At least if I’m ahead of you it looks like you’re following me rather than being with me. We are nearly there, just down the other end of this alley and across the road to the park. I live on the other side, if you can’t keep up then you can meet me there, 62 is the house number, facing the park.’ Francis turned and started to walk again at the same speed as before. Joe tried to keep pace but he couldn’t, as he got to the end of the alleyway Francis had already crossed the road and was into the park. Gathering his breath he crossed the road and entered the park, the darkness from the canopy of the trees made it very difficult to see anything other than the lights of buildings and cars on the other side of the park. He knew that he needed to get to the houses on the other side. Stumbling into shrubs and plants along the way, he made sure that the houses were still in his sight. Eventually he got through the trees and shrubs and onto the street. The other side of the road was adorned with large three storey city homes, the kind that Joe dreamed of living in one day with Gina and Mary. Joe stood on the kerb, looking across at the luxury when he spotted number 62, Francis’ house. He waited for the cars to pass and crossed over, going up the steps he knocked on the door. Francis opened the door slightly and looked at Joe through the gap.