Friday, 25 January 2013

Alarm Call

Steve and Ross- from the Kibbutz

'Wake me up in the morning.'
It wasn't a request. Ross knew this was a fools errand. He wanted to be away from Steve already, move out of the hut, into one of the others, the empty ones. Steve scared him. He was intimidating enough when he was awake, but at least then he was under control, had self control. It was when he slept that scared Ross the most. He had already been woken out to find Steve sat on his chest. The night terrors, Steve shouting and fighting in he sleep, then sitting bolt upright eyes staring full of rage, until he slumped back into more uncomfortable sleep.
Steve had told him the story. It came from the time he was in Wandsworth for burglary.
'The screws don't try and fight you when you have a screamer, no they pin you down, and get you with the chemical cosh. Then when you are conscious but still dopey, fucked but awake, then they beat you, heavy blows, no sharp edge bruises.'
Dawn approached. Ross wasn't going to let his alarm go. As quietly as he could he got up and pulled on his shorts and boots. The fridge was humming outside the door, his breakfast was in it so no need to mess around in the room. Steve was turned on his side, very asleep, quietly grumbling to himself.
Carefully Ross clicked open the front door to the hut and stepped outside into the cool of the morning. Then closed the door behind himself. He sat there for a few minutes until the watch came round to the time. Then, nervous but from  the safety of his side of the door he started.
Bang bang bang, wake up Steve, time for work, wake up.
Inside there was a crash, a roar, curses, Steve woke up fighting something. The attacker all too real in the imagination. After a few moments the rage subsided and a voice came from inside.
'Thanks Ross'