Acid Rain by R.D Rhodes (literature books to read .txt) 📗

squashed, tiny brown eyes. Her pig's nose winced as if she smelled something off. Her mouth kept churning the crisps round and round.

“I’ll go and ask Dale.” She said.

“Fuck.” I thought to myself. She lifted her arse up from the cushioned seat and the imprint in the red leather expanded as if being able to breathe again. I stepped back and followed her, as she waddled out. She stopped at one of the patient’s rooms, groaning and holding her back as she opened the door. Dale was inside, on his own, removing a vomit-covered sheet from the bed. I waited outside as Liz went in and whispered in his ear.

Dale nodded at me. “Okay. As soon as I’ve finished, I’ll take you to the library.”

Chapter 19

I had put all my hope on getting Liz. Dale was athletic and strong and about six foot two, one look at him and I knew my chance had almost evaporated. But I had to keep positive.

I stood alone in the corridor and looked out the window. The sun was high and shining bright in the clear sky. I just wanted to be outside.

I wandered down, to the second last door, and peered in through the glass panel. The floor was covered with pillows and cushions, but nobody was there.

“You ready then?” Dale hollered, making me jump. He put the bucket in the nurse’s station, closed the door and came towards me. He looked at the ground as he walked, as he almost always did, and when he did look at you his blue eyes always seemed bored, fed up. He seemed almost as depressed as some of the patients. His Pete Townsend face came closer.  I didn’t know what to make of him. He wasn’t the creep that Kev was, but I had seen him drag a man down the hall, and he had helped to pin me down while Sanders jabbed me with that needle.

He took out his keys from his pocket and unlocked the first set of ward doors. I followed him in and waited inside the buffer zone. He locked the first door behind him, jangled through the keys and placed them in the second.

He caught my glance.

“Hey! Wait there!” He moved ahead to cover the stairway. “Keep moving on.” His eyes flashed in warning. “I’m not in the mood.”

I looked behind him at the path down to my freedom. I was skinnier, I could outrun him. But I would never get past those broad shoulders. Better to wait for Liz, or even Sanders.

“After you,” he said, pointing towards the upper staircase. I headed on up and he followed, barely a meter away. When we reached the third floor, he held back. “Third last door.”

He was eying me like a hawk. I tried to ease his guard. “Has the inspector been yet?” I said.

“Keep going. Yeah, he came when you were all out in classes.”

“How did it go?”

He snorted. A brief silence passed, “They’ve got us all in today.” “This was supposed to be my day off.” He muttered.

I got to the third last door, it was open, and I stepped inside. Dale waited in the hall.

I was the only one in there. The old wooden bookshelves were lined up in rows. I walked over by the coffee-colored walls and went down the first aisle, scanning the titles. It was a limited selection, ninety percent seemed to be crime novels, and I hate crime novels. The books weren’t arranged in any order either. I ran my fingers along and picked some up and leafed through the pages reading random passages. I picked another one up, Salisbury Anne. On the back where the reviewers and newspaper critics had provided their opinions, it said, “This author’s profound moral intelligence echoes through the pages.” The usual load of pretentious shit.

I put it back and looked some more. Then I found one. Confucius. I had heard a lot of good things about Confucius.

I spread it open to page twenty.

“When Confucius’s ruler was present, his manner displayed respectful uneasiness, it was grave, but self-possessed.”

“When he was passing the vacant place of the prince his countenance appeared to change, and his legs to bend under him, and his words came as if he hardly had breath to utter them.”

I flicked forward a few pages.

“In serving his parents, a son may remonstrate with them, but gently; when he sees that they do not incline to follow his advice, he shows an increased degree of reverence, but does not abandon his purpose; and should they punish him, he does not allow himself to murmur.”

What? What is this shit? I thought. None of this is relevant anymore, if it ever was. Philosophers don’t half talk some crap sometimes.

No much wonder the Chinese controlled their masses so well with bullocks like this, no wonder it hadn’t been burned with the rest of their good books. My God, what a load of crap.

I kept reading every tenth page. “Life is simple, it’s us humans that insist on making it complicated.” Well, I agreed with that.

I took Confucius and another book, The Origins of Species. Dale was standing with his arms folded looking bored and sleepy, his eyes fixed on the sunny day outside. He noticed me coming and some life sprang back into him.

“Just stay behind me.” he said.

We went down the hall. His thick hamstrings in his jeans bulged with each step.

We had only gone ten meters, when I heard a noise. A continuous noise, coming from one of the rooms. We kept walking and it got louder- a moaning, like someone was in pain. It sounded like a woman.

Dale noticed it too. He seemed confused. He slowed down and stepped close to the room it came from, putting his left arm out as a blockade.