06-19-2015, 06:10 PM
Jing Peng, an illegal chinese immigrant took a detour from his normal panhandling circuit outside a fast food restaurant. A pair of bigger, stouter men with clubs convinced him to find a new spot.
He passed an entrance to a metro station longingly. They were the best positions, so heavily trafficked as they were with easy access to heat. He dug his hands deeper into oversized pockets and trudged on. The place was already claimed as was signaled by the man that shot him a look of warning.
The wind picked up, promising snow soon to fall from ever-thickening clouds. Dusk was coming too. The temperature would be dropping below safe levels unless he found a place to huddle for the night. His stomach rumbled, reminding him he hadn't eaten since being run off from his fast-food restaurant. There were plenty of half-eaten burgers and biscuits to three to share, but sharing wasn't part of the rules of this morbid world of beggars.
Jing's wandering took him to a large intersection. On the corner stood a fast-loan store, pharmacy, and nail salon. The parking lots were sparse. Most of the other stores were closed. He sighed and approached the curb.
Torrid honking struck him of his daze just as he was about to cross the street. His heart lept into his throat as he jumped from a pair of headlights in the knick of time. He stumbled back on the sidewalk, landing hard. He grimaced and scowled at the driver as they sped away.
He was gaining his feet when a second pair of headlights approached, but this time he was safe on the curb. He ignored the beams and stumbled upright. His back was going to ache for days after this.
Squealing tires made him look up, though. And his annoyance turned to terror as a car swerved randomly from the street, up the curb and straight at him.
This time there wasn't time to dodge. The next two days were a blur. He remembered a nurse asking for his name and address. Someone asked for next of kin and whether he had a will to execute. No, he answered. He had nobody and no home. The pain came and went with the nurses as they delivered their needles. His aching legs and back were braced in casts that kept him in bed.
The day he was moved from emergency to the hospital floor a visitor knocked on the door. Jing assumed it was another nurse coming to do another scan or inject him with some new drug, and didn't look up until a male voice spoke.
"Hello?"
They said.
Jing's heavy gaze rolled, and he squinted to make out the man's appearance. He was white, younger them himself, not very tall, and dressed unlike any medical staff he'd seen yet. A pang of curiosity wafted his senses, but his voice was too weak to inquire further.
The man came to stand by the foot of the bed. "May I pray for you?"
He asked.
Jing blinked, processing the question. The man repeated himself, this time speaking slower, but Jing's hearing was the one thing that still worked on his body. The man seemed to take the lack of response as a sign and pulled a stool nearby. He laid his hands on Jing's arm below one of the i.v. lines plunging into his body.
For a prayer, the man was rather quiet although he closed his eyes and did bow his head. Any of the religion that skirted Jing's life was not western, but neither did he mind the intrusion. In fact, he partly assumed the man was a hallucination bred from boredom and pain.
Admittedly, he grew extremely relaxed. Like every sense of stress, misery and pain washed away. He breathed easier, deeper, and without the pain spreading across broken ribs. His head lightened of its weight. Even his toes tingled. Sleep took him in a few minutes.
When he woke, he was a brand new Jing. He sat easily upright and studied his surroundings like he didn't realize where he was. "Hello???" He called but nobody came. He swung his casted legs off the edge of the bed and was surprised to find he was able to put all his weight on his feet. The movement set off a flurry of alarms and a moment later, a nurse ran in, yelling at him to get off his feet.
"But I'm fine!" He said, even hopping on oddly-straightened knees, and smiled. The nurse looked at him in shock. He even laughed.
He passed an entrance to a metro station longingly. They were the best positions, so heavily trafficked as they were with easy access to heat. He dug his hands deeper into oversized pockets and trudged on. The place was already claimed as was signaled by the man that shot him a look of warning.
The wind picked up, promising snow soon to fall from ever-thickening clouds. Dusk was coming too. The temperature would be dropping below safe levels unless he found a place to huddle for the night. His stomach rumbled, reminding him he hadn't eaten since being run off from his fast-food restaurant. There were plenty of half-eaten burgers and biscuits to three to share, but sharing wasn't part of the rules of this morbid world of beggars.
Jing's wandering took him to a large intersection. On the corner stood a fast-loan store, pharmacy, and nail salon. The parking lots were sparse. Most of the other stores were closed. He sighed and approached the curb.
Torrid honking struck him of his daze just as he was about to cross the street. His heart lept into his throat as he jumped from a pair of headlights in the knick of time. He stumbled back on the sidewalk, landing hard. He grimaced and scowled at the driver as they sped away.
He was gaining his feet when a second pair of headlights approached, but this time he was safe on the curb. He ignored the beams and stumbled upright. His back was going to ache for days after this.
Squealing tires made him look up, though. And his annoyance turned to terror as a car swerved randomly from the street, up the curb and straight at him.
This time there wasn't time to dodge. The next two days were a blur. He remembered a nurse asking for his name and address. Someone asked for next of kin and whether he had a will to execute. No, he answered. He had nobody and no home. The pain came and went with the nurses as they delivered their needles. His aching legs and back were braced in casts that kept him in bed.
The day he was moved from emergency to the hospital floor a visitor knocked on the door. Jing assumed it was another nurse coming to do another scan or inject him with some new drug, and didn't look up until a male voice spoke.
"Hello?"
They said.
Jing's heavy gaze rolled, and he squinted to make out the man's appearance. He was white, younger them himself, not very tall, and dressed unlike any medical staff he'd seen yet. A pang of curiosity wafted his senses, but his voice was too weak to inquire further.
The man came to stand by the foot of the bed. "May I pray for you?"
He asked.
Jing blinked, processing the question. The man repeated himself, this time speaking slower, but Jing's hearing was the one thing that still worked on his body. The man seemed to take the lack of response as a sign and pulled a stool nearby. He laid his hands on Jing's arm below one of the i.v. lines plunging into his body.
For a prayer, the man was rather quiet although he closed his eyes and did bow his head. Any of the religion that skirted Jing's life was not western, but neither did he mind the intrusion. In fact, he partly assumed the man was a hallucination bred from boredom and pain.
Admittedly, he grew extremely relaxed. Like every sense of stress, misery and pain washed away. He breathed easier, deeper, and without the pain spreading across broken ribs. His head lightened of its weight. Even his toes tingled. Sleep took him in a few minutes.
When he woke, he was a brand new Jing. He sat easily upright and studied his surroundings like he didn't realize where he was. "Hello???" He called but nobody came. He swung his casted legs off the edge of the bed and was surprised to find he was able to put all his weight on his feet. The movement set off a flurry of alarms and a moment later, a nurse ran in, yelling at him to get off his feet.
"But I'm fine!" He said, even hopping on oddly-straightened knees, and smiled. The nurse looked at him in shock. He even laughed.