Upon This Waste

Chapter 20

He shuffled down the halls slowly. It was a strange place with a strange smell. Too many people. In some places it was too quiet, in others, too loud. When he was walking up to the structure, he took notice of the tall, slender windows. They seemed inhuman and cold. The building was several stories high, and its several connected parts each had a high, steep roof. A dozen chimneys sputtered thick black smoke from their jaws which wafted away in the icy wind.

The building's halls were painted white and yellow, very plain and boring. The ceiling was low, and he felt almost like he had to crouch as he walked, though he didn't. He had come to a ward, now, that was mostly quiet. He passed door after door with almost no sound except maybe some tinkling or rattling or shuffling. And finally he came to the doorway he was looking for and stopped just short of it. He took several deep breaths with his back up against the wall, his eyes looking up at the drab ceiling. He didn't know why it was so hard to go in, but he had known it would be. It didn't make any sense to him, but that's how it was. He stood outside the door and watched several people pass quietly before he spun inside the doorframe.

He was lying on his bed. His eyes were downcast, and he couldn't tell if they were opened or closed. Maybe he was sleeping, maybe he should come back later. His skin looked cold and his breathing was heavy. It didn't look good. Isaiah turned to go, he would come back of course, he reasoned.

"Where're you goin'?" Isaiah heard with his back toward the room and his shoulders already through the doorway.

He turned around slowly. There in the bed, Mike was smiling. "I think I've heard 'em say big fellers like me get awful lonely awful quick, you know. You can't be slidin' in here all quiet and turnin' right around and leavin' me all by myself like that." His smile grew wider and Isaiah's did too. He couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled like that. Isaiah walked a few more feet into the room before he stopped, and stood there smiling.

"How'd you find me anyhow?" Mike asked struggling to pull himself up in his bed.

"It wasn't too hard," Isaiah answered. "I only had to talk to a few people, really. I'd go, is there a big fellow in here," he held his arms out in front of him, "about yay wide and yay tall? He's probably been asking for five to ten meals a day." He paused. "They pointed me right to you," Isaiah said and Mike laughed and Isaiah joined him.

"Speakin' of meals," Mike said, "Let that pretty young lady in back behind you." Mike was pointing at the doorway, and Isaiah turned around to see a nurse with a tray of food. "Well, Ruth," Mike started, "it smells like potatoes, maybe even a little meat too," he said sniffing deeply.

"A farmer down the road let us buy some chickens off of him," the nurse said. "So today everyone gets a little piece of chicken."

"Two servin's for me though, right?" Mike said with a grin.

"Of course. Two servings for you, Mike," the nurse answered shaking her head as she placed the tray beside his bed.

As she turned to go, she looked at Isaiah. "You've got your hands full with this one," she said as she walked out the door.

Isaiah chuckled and Mike yelled down the hall, "Thanks, Ruthie! Be sure to come see me again soon! I ain't much for alone time, you know!"

Isaiah laughed again. "I guess your stay in no-man's-land didn't change you too much, did it?" Isaiah asked.

Mike looked up and his grin was gone. "Not up here," he said, tapping his head with his finger, "or down here," he said, patting his stomach. "Come here a little closer though," he said waving Isaiah forward.