Get Out Your Damn Umbrellas

Chapter 6

"That'll be twelve pound fifty, mate."

Phil looked through the foggy windows of the cab and saw their apartment building looming in the dark street. Dan had finally been discharged from the hospital around four o'clock in the afternoon, but the gathering storm clouds overhead made it seem like nighttime already. The rainfall had started on the ride home, large drops pattering against windows and refracting light from passing streetlamps. Phil thought they looked like halos. It was one of those little things that he usually tried to find happiness in and sometimes point out to Dan as well in hopes of cheering him up, to which the other boy typically responded by shaking his head and calling Phil a dork in a soft, fond voice.

The cabbie cleared his throat. "Well, er, this is the right place, isn't it?"

Phil tore his eyes away from the streetlamps glimmering outside his window. "Yeah, sorry," Phil muttered apologetically. "This is us."

He glanced over at Dan, who was sitting hunched in the corner with his forehead pressed against the glass. Dan had spent the whole ride home staring out the window, but those wide brown eyes didn't seem to really take anything in. Phil doubted he would have gotten a response if he'd mentioned anything about the halos. Dan had hardly spoken a word for the past two days.

"Dan," Phil called softly. "We're home."

The boy didn't say anything to this. He simply tugged at the hood of his coat to keep his face hidden and continued to stare out the window. Phil's heart suddenly gave a sharp twinge. Was Dan ashamed of the bruises?

A muffled cough from the cabbie made Phil snap back to attention. "I don't mean to rush you," the man said in a gruff voice, "but the fuel gage is running low."

"Right, sorry," Phil muttered apologetically. He fumbled for his wallet and handed over the money quickly. Then he reached down to grab the brightly coloured umbrella that he'd bought from the hospital gift shop. When opened it formed a hexagonal shape made up of six triangles, each a different colour of the rainbow. It was the sort of the thing that Phil would use as a prop in a video, but at the moment it only served as a reminder that neither of them would be able to make videos for a while.

He turned back to Dan and whispered, "Sorry about all the bright colors. The shop didn't have any in black." Silence followed, only broken by the sound of the steadily increasing downpour and thunder rumbling in the distance. "Just sit tight. I'll come around to your side."

Dan stayed put and waited for him to open the other passenger door. He took Phil's outstretched hand and stepped under the giant, rainbow-coloured umbrella, but his gaze remained fixed on the rain-drenched ground.

The journey up the forty-steps to their apartment was a long one. Phil climbed slowly, staying close in case Dan needed to hold onto something for support. He sensed the other boy tense up in pain every other step, but he never reached out. That was until they approached the door and Phil fit the key in the lock when Dan suddenly clung to his arm as though he was afraid that someone else might be inside.

They spent what seemed like eternity standing in the hallway. Everything looked the same, but it didn't feel the same as all the other times they had entered this apartment. The forensic equipment had been cleared away and the police tape had been taken down, but the place still felt more like a cleaned-up crime scene than home.

The first thing Phil though to do was turn on the lights. He walked quickly through the apartment switching on the bright ceiling lights as well as a few lamps in the living room. Then he stopped in the kitchen to put away the massive quantity of pills the doctors had prescribed, pills to prevent infection, pills for pain, pills to help Dan sleep. Phil doubted that they had enough biscuits left in the cupboard for Dan to take them with, but he didn't want to go to the shop to get more and leave Dan here. He was already anxious enough about leaving Dan in the hallway.