NATE
It's one of those dreams.
You're desperately rushing around trying to find a toilet. But when you finally do? It's open for the passing crowd to see you do the deed....or there's no toilet paper. Or it's filled with men.
A psychiatrist will probably say its subliminal meaning is a fear of feeling exposed or being in public view.
How am I interpreting it?
That I'm just about to wet the bed in my sleep.
Opening my eyes I sit up, ready to bolt for the little chamber pot. Then I freeze....because nothing looks familiar! There's no tent, no Leo snoring beside me or gentle flap of the tarpaulin.
Instead, here I am. In a real bed under a proper sheet and blanket. All smelling vaguely familiar and manly in a very nice sort of way.
Bits of wood and steel bars crisscross the window and moonlight is shining through the gaps. Clothes are hanging on a rail close by.
Lifted the sheet and checked.
Phew....not mine!
I spied a comb, silver chain necklace and book on the table next to me. Along with a glass of water, my gun and knife.
Illuminated by the lunar rays, a recliner rocker sat in the corner of the room. Filled with the slumbering figure of a man.
Here I am in a man's room. Sleeping in his bed like a modern-day Goldilocks. It's his room, the bed smells of him and he's in the chair.
Guillermo!
Quiet as a mouse I levered my legs out of the bed and placed my feet on the floor.
My bladder is now letting me know in no uncertain terms that it's not a happy camper. Still, I ignore it as best I can.
No way I'm going to let this opportunity pass. To get a good long look at this guy whilst he's otherwise occupied.
***
Late yesterday I walked among the senior citizens in the hospital. This is familiar, much-missed territory for me. And I told Guillermo so.
Felipe joined us, along with a tiny old lady. Who tried her hardest to simultaneously grab my hand, kiss and pinch my cheeks plus introduce me to everyone.
She's Miguel and Felipe's Abuela....Grandmother.
There are about twenty or so residents. Most of whom are relatives of the vato's or men in the warehouse.
These big tough guys are helping to look after their elders in the middle of a graveyard that used to be a city. The majority of the staff having fled, leaving the oldies to fend for themselves.
How could anyone do such a thing, let alone live with themselves afterwards?
Guillermo had been the facility's custodian and Felipe a senior care nurse. Now they're the leaders of a ragtag band of modern-day Robin Hoods. Taking from the un-dead instead of the rich, while protecting their grandparents and families.
My heartstrings got well and truly tugged.
When the sun dropped and everyone came in for an evening meal, I realised we wouldn't be returning to the hostel that day.
The hungry vato's included Hervé. The guy with the foul mind and violating hands.
If looks could kill? I'd be well and truly lurching around the streets by now.
YOU ARE READING
Home is You ('Home Is' Book One - Daryl Dixon)
FanfictionSemi-mature. Completed. Nate's a teenage Aussie tomboy. Who grew up in a country town with 4 big brothers and parents who adore her as much as she does them. She's strong, resourceful, smart and a bit of a smart-ass. But still just a girl. One who f...
