Built From Ash - Sequel to Burned Out

Chapter 8: Visiting Hours

When Skeppy's plane landed, the sun had barely begun to rise over the city. It was cold and the smell of rain hung in the air. Time seemed almost frozen in the predawn—hardly anyone was around Skeppy, both in the airport and the streets. He hailed a cab, glad it didn’t take too long, and got into the heated car.

“Where you headed, sir?” asked the driver. He had on a baseball cap and was slightly pudgy. The car smelled faintly of fast food and cigarette smoke.

Skeppy checked the address on one of the letter’s he’d brought with him and gave the man the address to Clarke County Psychiatric Asylum. He plugged the numbers into his phone and looked startled when the location popped up.

“You sure this is the right address?” He looked skeptically at Skeppy.

“Yep,” Skeppy responded.

“Alright.” Without another word, the car sped off.

It was a half hour drive to the hospital, but it seemed like Skeppy had blinked and teleported from his room to the sidewalk in front of Clarke County Psychiatric Asylum. It was like nothing had taken place from then until now. Not the encounter with the weird man at the airport—Arwin—and not the 30 minute cab ride. Skeppy looked at the sign on the door of the hospital.

Visiting hours: 8am-5pm all days of the week

He looked at his phone. It was only 6:30. He groaned and looked around, spotting a small coffee shop across the street that looked to be just opening up. He started to make his way over.

Inside it was warm, a nice contrast to the cool morning air outside. All of the tables were empty and he couldn’t yet smell the scent of fresh coffee or pastries. A woman came out of the back room, tying an apron around her waist. She turned on a few of the coffee machines before looking up and seeing Skeppy.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t hear the bell ring. How can I help you?”

“I’ll take a black coffee with cream and sugar. Is it alright if I stay here until the hospital opens up?” She snatched a cup from under the counter and started making his coffee.

“Of course. If you don’t mind me asking,” she looked up at him hesitantly, “why are you visiting? Nobody ever goes in there besides the patients and the nurses.”

“I’m visiting a friend,” he said simply.

“Oh,” she said. She finished making his coffee and handed it to him. “That’ll be $3.15.” He handed her the money and took the coffee. “Anna, by the way,” she added, holding out her hand.

“Skeppy,” he replied, shaking it.

“Feel free to grab a book to read, any of the ones on the shelf are for customers to borrow.” She gestured towards a tall bookshelf lining one of the dark, paneled walls.

“Thanks.”

He approached the bookshelf, scanning for anything that looked interesting. He took one called tuesdays with Morrie. It was about a college student who learned extra lessons from his professor on Tuesdays at lunch, but fell out of touch after graduating. He eventually reaches back out after becoming wealthy and begins flying to his house to have lunch like during his college days. Near the end of the book, the old professor dies, leaving the student with only his memories and lessons.

As Skeppy finished the book, he felt a tear sliding down his face. He wiped it away and set down the book. He’d never been much of a reader, but the book had kept his attention, and he half-wished it hadn’t stopped, it seemed too short. Anna walked over to his table after clearing one near him that had a partially eaten pastry and an empty coffee cup.