Living on the Streets - McLennon AU

4

21st March, 1957

John felt terrible.

If he would have been watching where he was going, and not complaining to himself about a his problems, then this poor young lad wouldn't be in pain right now.

"Is your guitar alright?" John asked, he was very worried about him.

"Maybe... I don't know." He sighed. "George, can you have a look?"

"Yeah, of course." 'George' pulled the guitar over the injured boys head, putting the straps around himself instead. They all watched intensely as he unclipped the case, opening it up. "Thank the lord, it's okay." The same boy sighed.

"Phew..."

John watched the scene carefully. Yeah, sure, a guitar was expensive... But would it matter so much if it was broken? It would only be as much as £20 to repair it at the music store in the town centre.

He was very intrigued with these boys and was eager to know more about them.

"So, what's the name?"

"Hmm?" The boy looked up from the guitar that he was carefully inspecting. "Oh- Uh, it's Paul. Well... James really. But everyone just calls me Paul."

"Mine's John." Paul smiled back at him.

"This here, this is George." He pointed at the young man next to him, who was clipping the case back together. "He's my... Brother."

"Hey." George nodded in the direction of John.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"I... I think so." Paul said, staring down at his leg. He didn't seem so sure anymore.

"Let's see if you can get up." He tried alright.

After about 20 seconds of trying to stand, Paul finally did it. But trying to walk was a whole other ball game.

"Can you walk?" George asked, the worry coming back into his voice.

"I- Uh..." He tried, but could only hobble.

"Okay, Paul, come and sit back down." John said, standing up to help him. "Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital. Just in case."

"Yeah, I'm certain." Paul rushed out. John knew there was no way he was going to get the lad to change his mind and so sighed at his reply. "It can't be broken anyway, I can atleast hobble on it."

"Paul hates hospitals." George said, putting the guitar round his shoulders this time. Paul gave him a warning glance. "What...? Just in case you fall again."

"Fine, but be careful." He said. John figured
they were talking about the guitar.

He didn't know what to do next. He couldn't just leave Paul. (Not that he would do anyway, he had more decency than that.) But how was he supposed to check Paul was okay? He may have other cuts, but John couldn't do anything about that sat on a bench next to the river Mersey.

"Okay then, Paul. If you hate hospitals, then we don't have to go there. But you really do need to get that seen to." John stated, worryingly.

"I know." Paul sighed back.

But who could help Paul if he wouldn't go to the hospital?

Mimi!

He made the final decision without hesitation.

"My aunt is a nurse, I can ask her to have a look at you."

"John, that's really nice of you... But I can't ask her to do that. It's freezing outside."

"She'll be fine. Look Paul, it's the least I can do. I really want to help you."

Paul turned to George as if to ask for a second opinion. George nodded frantically in response.

"A-Alright. I guess she could take a quick look..."

"Okay, I'll go and call her." John stood up and headed for the telephone box, hearing George talking to Paul from behind.