The Rebirth

Chapter 2

Rowan had been standing, motionless, in the changing room staring at his large pale hands. He kept turning them over as if something about them were different. He expected a weight, electricity, something. But he felt nothing. His hands were his hands, like they had always been. He just couldn’t get her out of his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw hers.

The sound of rolling metal drew Rowan away from his thoughts, the eyes that were tormenting him, and towards the windows. Thick metal blinds were automatically clunking their way down to fit into the metal frame surrounding the large, thin windows.

Rowan glanced down at his gold plated watch to see that it was quarter to five in the morning. He needed to get home. Switching his white doctors’ coat to a long black, hooded cloak, he left the hospital, taking the entrance steps two at a time.  

He pulled his Ray Bans from his inside pocket and put them on, checking his reflection in a near-by car window. Rowan wouldn’t call himself vain. He preferred to say that he appreciated his appearance. The truth was he had every right to be vain; he had a perfectly sculpted face, with handsome features to match.

He was walking past a dark alley way to the left of the hospital when he thought he heard a voice he recognised. He whipped his head to the left, to look down into the narrow alley way.

He started down the alley way, turning to the left as it followed the awkward shape of hospitals disposal block. Although he couldn’t see beyond the next corner, he could hear the voices clearer. First came the one he recognised.

“If you just let me help you…”

A growl erupted; it was loud, deep and aggressive. Rowan rounded the corner to see his closest friend, Henry Watts, crouched down beside a dirty man, dressed in rags. He noticed that Henry was clutching his lower right arm tightly, but his face showed pure defiance and calm.

“Henry.”

“My friend,” Henry stood up, stumbling slightly, “Are you well?"

“Yes, but now is not the time for conversation”, he motioned to his watch, “Come, you need my help.”

Rowan was surprised as Henry, without any objection, walked towards him, his blonde curls hung wildly about his face, which was smeared with blood. He didn’t need to ask him what he was doing, Rowan knew that Henry devoted as much of his time as he could to helping the poorest in the town, to no avail.

Henry sighed and it echoed loudly off the grey stone walls which towered above them as they made their way through the narrow cobbled streets. The town, at this hour, looked desolate with all its windows covered by dark, wooden shutters.

Finally they reached the red glossy door to Henry’s house, he handed the key to Rowan who slipped it into the key hole with ease. With one turn and a light click the door opened to reveal a small and cluttered living room. There were two deep green sofas buried beneath piles of papers, books and blankets.

Henry clapped his hands together, though with some difficulty as his right arm stung and felt weak. He motioned for Rowan to follow him through a small man-made pathway into his kitchen. The kitchen was longer than it was wide, but was clean and organised. He nodded towards a kitchen cabinet, where Rowan could find everything he needed.

“I think you should quit while you’re ahead, Henry.” Rowan warned as he inspected the untouched medical tools from Henry’s first aid kit. He had bought them for Henry in case of emergencies such as this. Henry was forever finding trouble.

“The world is full of quitters, if we all quit what would we have? I’ll tell you,” Henry winced as Rowan used a scalpel to reopen the wound, which had already started to heal. “Nothing, everybody deserves help, I know you believe that too.”