Decaying Hearts

Chapter 4

"I was just... looking for food." I stated as my stomach roared, right on cue. Though my voice faltered and I could taste my own lie stroke against my tongue as the words fell from my lips. I refused to look him in the eye, the second indication of my lies. He had caught me off guard and I was unprepared to defend my own excuses.

"There's a sandwich right there, on the side for you?" The familiar voice announced with the intonation of a question, clearly he heard the false note to my voice.

And there on the counter was a sandwich, but why would they feed me? Wouldn't that diminish their resources? One less meal for them.

"I know what you're doing, man. Ain't no shame in it. We've all been there. It's hell out there and ya gotta do what ya gotta do." Lenny shrugged as I faced him.

He wore another flannel shirt, but only this one was blue and as clean as anything was going to get. He had a smile plastered across his face and his understanding and kindness only deepened my shame. This man had saved my life, provided me shelter and I was willing to rob him blind. "But, ya' know man, there really ain't no need. I've spoken to the guys out there and you're good to stay. We have a safe perimeter, food, health care. We're set up pretty darn good."

I nodded at him gratefully, beginning to pick up the stolen goods that had flailed across the lino floor. A hand had to be held against my side as I did, the pain that spread through me with each stretch was excruciating and the little pressure I could manage made it almost bearable. Every time I bent over at the waist or raised a hand above my shoulder to return the loot, I could feel the stitches beneath a bandage that held me together threaten to unravel, to render me vulnerable.

"I'll send in Doc to check you over. Can I get you anything?" Lenny offered politely.

"I'm good thanks, Lenny." And I truly meant it.

He nodded and closed the door behind him, disappearing into the hallway. I put most of the bottles back into the cabinet, but out of pure carefulness, I held on to a couple of items and shoved them into my pockets for now. Maybe they had accept me into their small community, but how long for? How long before I was back out on the road again? I didn't even know these people and so I couldn't trust them. I needed the supplies – just in case.

I turned back to sit down on the green mattress and took a large bite out of the sandwich that had been left for me. Jam! The bread was so soft and I assumed homemade, but I couldn't tell. The taste was seductive. It was the only bread I had come across that hadn't been contaminated by mould, stale or gnawed on by wild animals. I couldn't remember the last time I had eaten fresh bread. And my god, the jam was so sweet.

I tried so hard to savour the tastes that exploded in my mouth, but I just couldn't control myself after that first bite. It was as though something savage had taken hold of me, like a foreign drug had control of the cells in my blood. Honestly, I'm not even sure it I managed to chew my food before I forced it into my stomach. Within seconds there was nothing but mere crumbs left behind that had fallen into my lap and a trail of jam down my thumb that I had licked clean in seconds. My heart sank as the end came.

Beside the plate was glass of water. Clean water! You could look straight through the glass and the blurred shapes within the room. Months it had been since I had seen clean water. I had been drinking from canals and streams for so long I had long forgotten what clean water even looked like. In three gulps the liquid was gone and once again I was left with nothing but heavy disappointment.

"Hello, I'm Maria." A feminine voice spoke confidently, as she welcomed herself into the little room.

I turned my head towards the sound and was greeted by a tall, thin woman with dark hair that fell only to her shoulders. She didn't look much like a doctor. Traditionally, you would expect a doctor to wear a long white coat or even a fancy suit, here she stood in front of me in a pair of baggy jeans that barely fit her; clearly they didn't belong to her originally. The shirt she wore was also a poor fit in the way that it must have been a size or two too small, its material clung tightly to her hips and bust, revealing an inch of skin above her waist line. Who could be picky these days over something as trivial as comfort when the real priority was survival? How times had changed...