to his body, his pants slapping uncomfortably against his ankles.
His head already started to pound from the lack of the Yellow Pill. Now he was
all out again and knew Big T would want him to do another round to pay for a
couple more. He’d no choice. It was do the work, or go without.
As
usual, he suppressed the voice, telling him to stop now, before it was too
late. After a while it went away, leaving a stronger headache in its wake. The
voice always belonged to Frey. Oh, that’s right. I was looking for Frey
yesterday. Then I couldn’t find her and I… and I sat down for a while.
He
looked around himself. He knew where he was. He passed the familiar stores and
the tiny sewer opening where he and Frey had hid when they had still been small
enough to fit.
Before
he knew it, he was staring up at the tall black building of the orphanage. He
hadn’t been here in a long time. But where else could she be? He had looked
everywhere. Father Patrick will know where she’s at. He wondered if Father Patrick even wanted to speak to him after all this
time. Only one way to find out.
He
hammered the door and heard a window screech open shortly after. Jin leaned
back and looked up to see Kirk lean out the window.
The
boy squinted into the darkness. “Who is it?” He yelled.
“Kirk!
It’s Jin! Open the door, its damn cold!”
“You
swore!” Kirk yelled back, slamming the window shut. Jin hoped Kirk wouldn’t leave
him standing outside.
The
door opened a crack. Jin shoved it inwards, making Kirk loose his balance and
fall on his bony behind. Jin locked all the familiar locks as if it had been
yesterday.
Kirk
jumped to his feet and pointed at Jin. “You swore!” He yelled again before
running off, his bare feet slapping against the cold stone floor. Jin shuddered
as he remembered he had also run barefoot once.
There were
several doors on each level, but he passed them all, wondering if Father
Patrick still stayed at the top floor. He knocked on the tattered doorframe and
waited until he heard a mumbled reply to enter.
Father
Patrick was bandaging the arm of a little girl. Her cheeks were wet from
crying, and her big, puffy eyes looked up at Jin. Father Patrick barely glanced
at him. “Now, this is to be kept dry, and stay on. I don’t want to see you
picking at the stitches to show the others, is that clear?” The little girl
sniffed and nodded. He gave her a warm smile. “Alright then. Off you go.”
She
bounded off, and Jin was reminded of how simple things could be in a child’s
world, even when everything around you looked like it did.
Jin
stood in the doorway, suddenly feeling like six years old again. Father Patrick
leaned back. Sat there and just looked at him. Jin knew there was no fooling
him. He could see what Jin had become, even if it was still early on and the
signs weren’t great.
After
some time the old man just gave a big sigh and stood up. There was a blanket
over the back of the chair and he held it out to Jin. “Take off your cloths and
wrap yourself in that. You’ll catch a cold otherwise.” Father Patrick moved to
the door. “I’ll go get us some tea.” He left Jin standing there, trying to
remember why he had come. He didn’t deserve the mans pity.
But he
still stripped and gratefully wrapped the big blanket around himself. It was
scratchy as hell, just as it always been and he took a strange comfort in that.
It only
took a few minutes before he was back with two chipped and mismatching cups,
and a big pot of light brown tea. He felt the warmth spread into his skin,
holding the cup closer to his frozen face to cherish the heat. His headache was
receding and he was relaxing. He looked up at Father Patrick over the rim of
the cup. “Thank you,” Jin said.
Father
Patrick grunted as he put down the pot. “You know you’re always welcome here,
Jin. I tell all of you that.”
“Yes…
but not when we’re-“
“Which
you’re not. Not right now anyway.”
That
was one of the
His head already started to pound from the lack of the Yellow Pill. Now he was
all out again and knew Big T would want him to do another round to pay for a
couple more. He’d no choice. It was do the work, or go without.
As
usual, he suppressed the voice, telling him to stop now, before it was too
late. After a while it went away, leaving a stronger headache in its wake. The
voice always belonged to Frey. Oh, that’s right. I was looking for Frey
yesterday. Then I couldn’t find her and I… and I sat down for a while.
He
looked around himself. He knew where he was. He passed the familiar stores and
the tiny sewer opening where he and Frey had hid when they had still been small
enough to fit.
Before
he knew it, he was staring up at the tall black building of the orphanage. He
hadn’t been here in a long time. But where else could she be? He had looked
everywhere. Father Patrick will know where she’s at. He wondered if Father Patrick even wanted to speak to him after all this
time. Only one way to find out.
He
hammered the door and heard a window screech open shortly after. Jin leaned
back and looked up to see Kirk lean out the window.
The
boy squinted into the darkness. “Who is it?” He yelled.
“Kirk!
It’s Jin! Open the door, its damn cold!”
“You
swore!” Kirk yelled back, slamming the window shut. Jin hoped Kirk wouldn’t leave
him standing outside.
The
door opened a crack. Jin shoved it inwards, making Kirk loose his balance and
fall on his bony behind. Jin locked all the familiar locks as if it had been
yesterday.
Kirk
jumped to his feet and pointed at Jin. “You swore!” He yelled again before
running off, his bare feet slapping against the cold stone floor. Jin shuddered
as he remembered he had also run barefoot once.
There were
several doors on each level, but he passed them all, wondering if Father
Patrick still stayed at the top floor. He knocked on the tattered doorframe and
waited until he heard a mumbled reply to enter.
Father
Patrick was bandaging the arm of a little girl. Her cheeks were wet from
crying, and her big, puffy eyes looked up at Jin. Father Patrick barely glanced
at him. “Now, this is to be kept dry, and stay on. I don’t want to see you
picking at the stitches to show the others, is that clear?” The little girl
sniffed and nodded. He gave her a warm smile. “Alright then. Off you go.”
She
bounded off, and Jin was reminded of how simple things could be in a child’s
world, even when everything around you looked like it did.
Jin
stood in the doorway, suddenly feeling like six years old again. Father Patrick
leaned back. Sat there and just looked at him. Jin knew there was no fooling
him. He could see what Jin had become, even if it was still early on and the
signs weren’t great.
After
some time the old man just gave a big sigh and stood up. There was a blanket
over the back of the chair and he held it out to Jin. “Take off your cloths and
wrap yourself in that. You’ll catch a cold otherwise.” Father Patrick moved to
the door. “I’ll go get us some tea.” He left Jin standing there, trying to
remember why he had come. He didn’t deserve the mans pity.
But he
still stripped and gratefully wrapped the big blanket around himself. It was
scratchy as hell, just as it always been and he took a strange comfort in that.
It only
took a few minutes before he was back with two chipped and mismatching cups,
and a big pot of light brown tea. He felt the warmth spread into his skin,
holding the cup closer to his frozen face to cherish the heat. His headache was
receding and he was relaxing. He looked up at Father Patrick over the rim of
the cup. “Thank you,” Jin said.
Father
Patrick grunted as he put down the pot. “You know you’re always welcome here,
Jin. I tell all of you that.”
“Yes…
but not when we’re-“
“Which
you’re not. Not right now anyway.”
That
was one of the
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