THE DOG HUNTERS (completed)

12 - DR. NURSE

And so of course, I had to get on the bus – something I never do.

I blame my little room, filled with cockroaches and bedbugs, the little waiting rooms of the free clinics and non profit agencies and government services I'm constantly forced to wait in, filled with mentally ill assholes screaming and farting. Dealing with all of this over the years has made me freak out if I'm in such a space and feel like I can't get out.

Even with the booze still sort of working (the adrenaline of the deathcharge had diluted it somewhat), I could feel my anxiety spike when I climbed on board. All those faces pretending not to see me. All those faces judging me. Sitting with all those faces, many of whom belonged to people who were nuts. And the walls closing in...

I scooted to the back, next to the rear exit. The good thing was this was still Seventh Street, and city buses stop every block. I couldhop off and book it down Gladstone. I'd only have to deal for a couple of minutes.

The only available seat was next to a big sweaty dude and I was still too freaked to stand.

The dude, like the bus driver, was big and fleshy. A white dude with Bozo The Clown hair, drooping over his ears, a thick mustache, faded bell bottoms and a too-tight t-shirt featuring Heather Locklear with feathered hair. Sweat expanded in big dark blotches in the cracks of his armpits, and poured off of his eye brows, dripping down,staining Heather's smile.

As it happened I knew the guy: Dr. Nurse. There's a convenience store next to the liquor store that has a few tables. Dr. Nurse almost always sat at one, his back to the wall, ready to be best friends with anyone who made the mistake of making eye-contact. Sometimes when I was drunk, or needing to get drunk, needing to talk to someone, I'd go there and engage.

"Wow. It's pretty hot in here," Dr. Nurse said to me, like we'd already been talking for an hour. His fingers were clasped tightly together over his belly. He twiddled his thumbs.

I did nothing and said nothing. I needed to concentrate on getting off the bus.

"Yes, yes. Lucky you stopped the bus. I was chasing this thing for like,three, four blocks. Hollering my damn head off. See, I'd gotten off at Strawberry cause someone told me wrong." He scowled at someone to my right. "You hadn't stopped the bus – I swear the driver was speeding up."

He untangled his hands and thrust one in my face. "Name's Dr. Nurse."

He was shaking my hand, covering it in cold sweat before I could protest. Apparently he'd forgotten who I was, forgotten all of our conversations. I couldn't blame him for that, none of them were about anything.

Dr. Nurse said, "No, really. Dexter Robert Nurse, see?"

A driver's license appeared, and it was true. Dexter Roger Nurse. I'd seen it before, many times. He grinned, as though we were now blood brothers. "I just escaped from a V.A. Hospital, man. Sure am glad I got back on this bus."

This could have been true. Dr. Nurse was one of the craziest people I'd met, and I hadn't seen him in several weeks.

I blinked and realized the bus had already stopped, people had gotten off, and on and now we were turning onto Bath. We were out of SkidRow, cruising into a long stretch of industrial nothingness. I had no idea when the next stop was or even where we were heading.