A Hazel Haven

Chapter 11.1

"Want anything?" The security guard asked, picking up the first aid box and rising. Tall and lanky, the albino man had a stoop to his posture; and he smiled amiably, squinting in spite of the cap he wore.

After emptying her gut on his colleague's rather expensive shoes, Uche had been ushered by three vested men to where they usually lounged, which was a spot close to the gate with a set of plastic chairs, so she could have her wound examined and dressed (if it was found to be severe, she'd have to be escorted to the hospital, whether she liked it or not).

At a glance, it looked like a mere bruise on lumpy skin, but the way it had oozed blood, spotting the cream of her shirt with red, suggested a deeper cut. But it was nothing compared to the former, minor enough( a great relief).

One of the men had attempted to probe further but Uche had stopped him insisting on patching it up herself. And while her fingers had moved deftly, quickly applying the disinfectant, cotton wool and plaster, another had offered to assist and sat beside her before she could protest.

A stab of pain went through her side. Uche schooled her face in an effort to hide a grimace, her jaws clenching briefly.

There was a raw taste in her mouth when she swallowed; the smell of vomit was on her breath. The overwhelming effect of the incident was wearing off, leaving her flustered, sweaty and irritable.

Her head felt too heavy for her neck, pain was strumming every nerve in her limbs until they hurt too much to move expressively, but she'd have to comport herself soon enough.

What she truly wanted was a chilled beer, and she almost said so, the craving on her tongue. This was probably the second time in years the urge resurfaced.

Just a can...But the words always stifled it.

"From now on, you are to stay away from any psychedelic drug or stimulant, be it cocaine, opium, tobacco.......... even alcohol. This means no smoking it, no drinking it and no injecting it, ever. You are highly volatile as it is and anything that would dampen your reasoning faculty could be disastrous. Do you understand me?"

Yes, bitch.

Besides, you told him you don't drink. If you do, they'll probably smell it.

Leaned back in the chair, her legs splayed apart with a hand dangling in the middle, she inclined her head sideways to look up at him.

He was still smiling, so she reciprocated it, a slight tip of a corner of her lips. His eyes jerked ceaselessly behind the semi rimmed glasses. "Water, please." she said instead, and reached into a pocket for her wallet, wincing from discomfort.

"Don't worry about it," he told Uche. When she started to refuse, he said, "It's just water. Consider it a token of apology for what happened. And for not reporting our slip up. We should have known, been more vigilant. It's not the first time she's-he's-- been here, using his son as an entry pass. All we saw was a frail old woman. To think that he'd bypassed us to solicit for alms..... for someone who is supposed to be mentally challenged, he is pretty clever. "

Then he went to replace the box in a cabinet on the wall before striding off to a shop that had confectionaries stacked on display. She murmured a 'thank you' at his back and he waved it off.

With a tired sigh, she passed a hand through her hair, ruffling it. Her fingers brushed past something almost velvety, Uche picked out the pink petal of a flower, blew it off a fingertip.

She gazed down at the red stains that were now smears of faded pink on a blotchy wet spot, molding the bandage beneath. (A bowl of soapy water and a rag had been provided for her to clean up with). Conveniently, her shirt was a loose, chic style. Once it dried, the bulge would go unnoticed.