Erased #13ReasonsWhyContest

From Career Path

A series of 90's jazz tunes played one after another from an old dusty record player in the lounge room. Filtered by the curtain blinds, the rays of sunlight painted the ageing skin of the elderly seated in various chairs and couches in a much more lively color.

There were more than half a dozen of them absently staring at the news program on the television. A few had already drifted back to sleep after being waken up for an early shower and the routine breakfast by 8:00 a.m. Some had their mouths hanging wide-open, drooling saliva onto their shirts. Two or three had their heads tilted back or sideways, their entire bodies slumped on their seat like marionettes abandoned by their puppeteers.

Just then, two middle-aged ladies in matching bright-red uniforms ushered in a tall hunched-back gentleman who was haphazardly wobbling even with the aid of his walking frame. His gray hair like a damp mop after having a shower, he was impatiently pushed ahead by the pair before being plopped down on one of the empty chairs without even a single word.

"Where... is... Jin?" the old man asked in between panting breaths, his hand rubbing against his stubble. "Where is Jin? Where is he?" he repeated, sounding more obviously distressed by the second.

Temporarily stopping from accompanying the doctors on their usual morning rounds to check on the geriatric patients, the nurse quickly walked up to him and placed a hand on the old man's forehead. "Mr. Hendricks, we have no Jin here. Are you sure you're feeling alright? If you're looking for your sons, their names are Andrew and Garry. They're not here yet but I'm sure they'll be coming in later this afternoon."

"Thank you, dear," Mr. Hendricks uttered, forcing a toothy smile on his saggy face. "I'm... sorry."

Although the nurse had spoken in a convincingly sympathetic and reassuring tone, it was carelessly betrayed by the scowling frown that formed on his face at the last second before he turned away from the older gentleman.

As soon as the nurse had walked away, Mr. Hendricks became quickly lost in his own thoughts, wondering about the young man whom he believed had tucked him into bed last night. The young man in white who spent probably more than half an hour in assisting him with his pills, getting him into his pajamas, getting his cassette player to play his favorite rock-'n-roll tunes in the 60's before he fell asleep for the night.

Was he simply mistaken? Or was the young man perhaps a figment of his imagination?

It was difficult to say. His memory occasionally played tricks on him these days.

He gave a quick glance at the gentlemen sitting beside him – a fatigued-looking Caucasian male struggling to stay awake and an Asian patient with a breathing tube embedded in his throat. He could try asking them, he thought.

A familiar tune then echoed from the radio. "I see trees are green, red roses too. I see them bloom for me and you."