hyperconsequence/Chasing Wild Geese

Only a crisp still December day greeted me when I left the prison. That’s exactly how I wanted it. Apart from seeing Mandrake I didn’t want anyone from my past turning up; they don’t know me anymore and I don’t know them.They are my past, my daughter and Mandrake will be my future, in time.

Needless to say, Mandrake didn’t turn-up as I sat smoking watching birds making their morning way while listening to the sound of distant traffic grow louder with commuters.He hadn’t once visited me, guilt probably.

I had to find him, so I headed into town. I had five hundred pounds in my pocket, just enough to get me into the places where I might find him. I took a cab because I didn’t want to sit on a crowded tube, exchanging stares with people eyes so distant from mine, their concerns so different from mine; my wits didn’t want to deal with that, I had to preserve them for what was ahead.

The cab driver tried to start up a conversation about kids stabbing each other. Rather than tell him to keep it to himself because I really wasn’t interested and didn’t care, I simply ignored him – he didn’t seem to mind. As I traveled, it was comforting to see the streets I once roamed hadn’t really changed.

The journey helped me assimilate my psyche with the London environment, yet still I got out the car apprehensive of what awaited me at 56 Newcomen Street.

I rang the buzzer and he answered. That was easy I thought.

“Hello, who’s that at this time,I’m just getting up. Come back later.”

“No.” I replied. You could hear the recognition of who it was in the pause he gave.

“Is that you?” He said.

“It is, let me in, I want to see you.”

He started to whimper. “You don’t understand, I’ve changed.”

“That makes two of us.” I quickly said.“Let me come-up and see you.”

“But, but.No I can’t.” He continued.

“Let me in!” I screamed. “You owe me this, we have to talk about that night. I’m not going away, you’ll have to see me at some point. Let’s do this now.”

I was there to get revenge on him for letting me take the wrap for something I didn’t do. Not physical revenge, but i wanted him to understand what he had done to me for leaving me, for letting me rot in jail without any contact. Despite this, I was looking forward to seeing him, after all he was, really, my best friend. He was my only friend and I hadn’t spoken to him in years.

He pressed his buzzer to let me in. He never had a buzzer before, always had someone to answer the door for him.

I walked up to his flat, remembering the noise of the wooden stairs, the familiar smell of the place. It brought back fond memories of how we partied, shagged beautiful girls and pretended to be gangsters. I smiled before I came to the door to his kitchen. I stopped smiling as my pulse raced with rage and excitement at seeing my friend.

I opened the door and there he laid, in his bed, arms and legs missing and scarred burnt all over.