CALL OF THE VOID
At the time in the night, when my eyes are not to be trusted, I was filled with a nervous energy. I went strolling through the city streets. I figured maybe I’d clear my head and catch a case of that fabled condition called sleep. Maybe I would walk so far that I could no longer read the words on the tallest building at the city center. I came across a man, shaky and bundled against the cold. He was massive, with a confused face like he was lost, and he nodded, uttered a quick “Hi” and continued on into the night. I followed the path ahead, not caring where my feet led because there was nowhere to go where no one had previously tread. I was just getting some air, cold as it was, to freeze my lungs and chill out. So, on I went, passing pedestrians strange and old and sad, but never unkind. Though I had no hope of catching what I was after, I grew comfortable. I reached an impasse, veered off on some new tangent.
Soon I was passing shantytowns and boarded up buildings. I approached another man as the night turned to morning. Immediately overwhelmed by a skunky smell, some sickly mix of sugar and burning rubber- this man was high. I dismissed this, greeted him just the same to be polite, and he asked me my name. Caught off guard, I lied to him. He asked me why I was out so late. He called me John, there was distaste in his tone like he knew it was wrong. And I told him.
I said, “I’m just on a walk.”
“Oh? Ya didn’t hear gunshots? You weren’t being nosey?”
“What? No, I didn’t hear anything. See, this is where I live, I left, and my legs took control.”
He said “Boy you gotta be careful, see. So many crazies ‘round here. Maybe get yerself some man clothes.” He grabbed my hand and held it tight, embraced me like a man might hug a son, and finally released. I walked away relieved, nostrils stinging, and I heard him move but didn’t look to see.
I heard a bang.
Blinded by an eruption of pain, I fell to the floor. I was dying and accepted it.
The man approached me and stooped to see if I was carrying anything valuable, but found nothing. No wallet, no keys, no phone - nothing to gain from taking my life. He cursed to himself. I smiled and thanked him. He ran away with staggering bounds, holding his head as he went. I slipped from consciousness with the sound of sirens rounding the corner.
I wish I could say this is where my story ends. I slept heavily, and my dreams replayed the events of that evening. When I was rushed to the hospital I was in and out of surgery. Upon waking in a fluorescent, sterile place permeated with a frenzied energy (like someone might die from fright at the slightest sound), my head ached. I found my hand rested on a wired remote. With a press of the red call button, a woman appeared. Like she had been waiting patiently outside the door to speak to me.
“How are you feeling, John?” The lady asked.
“My head hurts. What did you call me?” I mumbled.
“John. As in John Doe? You had no ID when you were admitted. You were attacked. Shot in the back, as a matter of fact.”
“How did I get here?”
“Someone heard gunshots and called the cops. You’re lucky to be here.”
I didn’t feel lucky. Especially after several more sessions of expensive poking and prodding from medical professionals. The admin who released me with a clean bill of health offered to call a cab. I declined. I was released with a bottle of prescription painkillers and I took some immediately. Waiting woozily to cross the street outside the hospital. I hesitated for a moment when the light turned. A car careened around the corner. The driver had his horn blaring, he flipped me the bird and narrowly missed taking me out.
It wasn’t a long walk, but I moved like the sky would fall down on me if I dawdled even a little. Once home, my charged phone exploded with notifications. Several of my family members sent urgent messages in my absence.
Dominic: Hey bro, call me. Please.
Jackie: OMG did you hear?
Tomas: You gonna join us for prayer?
I don’t think anyone knew I was gone. At some point something had gone wrong, and I missed it. Made a call to Dom. It rang once, twice, on the third I wondered why I bothered. No one ever answered their phones anymore anyway.
“Hey! Where you been, bro?” The voice snapped me from my reverie.
