Billy. Going where darkness fears to tread…. Colin David Palmer
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СКАЧАТЬ much he’d aged in the past few months. Grief does that to you as well.

      “What’s your name?”

      “Like it says on my pass, Billy Nelson.”

      “It says,” he held it up as if he had poor eyesight or reading skills, “William Augustus Nelson,” as if it meant something Billy should know, which of course it did seeing as that was his name. The cop kept looking at Billy waiting for some kind of response. Billy wasn’t sure what was wanted so he said nothing. He stood there looking back. He felt something was wrong but didn’t want to make things any more difficult than they already were. His at times smart mouth had got him into trouble before so he kept it shut this time. “How old are you?”

      “Fifteen sir.” Billy decided that respect was required.

      “When’s your birthday?”

      “Eleventh of September sir.”

      “What year?”

      “Why, every year sir!” He grinned.

      Billy couldn’t resist that and once more his mouth brought trouble! The cop didn’t smile back, that’s for sure. “Wait here smart arse.”

      He stamped back toward his car holding Billy’s wallet and bus pass, spoke briefly to his partner then opened the passenger door. The ambulance guys had been held back until then and they immediately went to the old man after a nod from the other cop. Nobody looked at Billy. The old guy was deposited onto a gurney, the sheet pulled up over his head then unceremoniously wheeled and shunted into the back of the ambulance. They were about to drive off when the cop in the car got out and halted them with an upraised arm. He walked over to his partner and exchanged a few words, and they both approached Billy.

      “What did you say your name was?”

      “Billy Nelson sir.”

      “And how old are you Billy?”

      “Fifteen.”

      “Please raise your hands in the air, turn around, we’re going to do a pat down.”

      Billy looked at them blankly. He had no idea what they meant. “What did you say?” Billy sounded confused.

      One of them placed his palm on the butt of his revolver. The other cop moved forward, wheeled Billy around roughly and pulled his arms above his head. Billy recognised what they wanted now though he still didn’t know why. He was patted down, a card came from one pocket of his jeans and some loose change from another and they spun him back around again. Billy kept his arms up. He wasn’t scared, just confused, but thought it was better if he acted a little frightened.

      “Please, what have I done?”

      “Put your arms down idiot,” the first one commanded. “What’s this?” He waved the card at Billy.

      Billy had to think for a second. The cop even turned the card around and showed it to him. “Oh, that’s Joe Cockers’ agent.”

      “Yeah right. And I’m Kamhal.”

      “No. True story. Joe Cocker gave it to me a few months ago.”

      “Where was that?”

      “Byron Bay, at the Top Pub.”

      They looked at each other again and came to some conclusion or other. “Alright, William Augustus Nelson or whatever your name is, you’re coming with us to the station.”

      “Why? All I did was call an ambulance for a dead guy. What am I supposed to have done?”

      “How old d’ya reckon you are?”

      “Fifteen,” he said angrily now.

      “Well Billy, or whoever you are,” the cop sneered back, “William Augustus Nelson has been reported as a missing person for over four years now. You look about twenty to me and everybody else in this world yet you claim to be fifteen. Haven’t used a mirror in awhile have you? Not many fifteen year olds have facial growth like that,” he pointed.

      Instinctively Billy reached up to his face and quickly pulled his hand away. Hair. He had hair on his face! God, I haven’t even started shaving yet he thought! Any wonder the old lady called the cops and any wonder the cops are now treating me like a suspect. He looked down at himself and saw his jeans only barely made it to his ankles. His t-shirt was at least two sizes to small, just covering his belly button, and the cardigan was tattered and torn. He looked like a street bum and all of a sudden he was embarrassed! He looked at the coppers, eyes pleading at them to understand his confusion. He saw that he was a similar height to the tallest cop who was at least six foot. Billy looked down at his bare ankles again – and feinted.

      In times of peril or from sheer desire or need, Billy regularly moved between his two parallels. He could remain anonymous, invisible to reality when he did so, and as a sanctuary it was second to none. Billy thought of that as soon as he woke up. He should have moved on and the cops would have been left with nothing but thin air and a great story to tell. Looking at the white ceiling above him, he heard and smelt enough to know he was in a hospital. He looked higher and craned his head, seeing his name handwritten on a card mounted on the headboard. At least it said he was still Billy Nelson. He moved an arm expecting to find it restrained, but it wasn’t. Neither arm was, nor his legs. He could see out of the window but didn’t recognise anything, the room to high in the building to allow visible landmarks. He sat up without problem, except for gnawing hunger pangs from his tummy. Reality!

      “Hello there,” said a bright and cheery voice from the doorway.

      Billy looked at her and was disappointed with what he saw. Her voice had conjured up images of a young bosomy nurse in a low cut dress and instead he got an old, dumpy thing in what could only be described as prison issues! She walked into the room and picked up his chart, checked pulse, blood pressure, and chatted incessantly. Billy may have liked the initial sound of her voice but after another minute of it he was ready to throttle her. She popped a thermometer in his mouth just as she paused enough in her prattle for him to get in the burning question.

      “Rot rer rer it?”

      She’d have made a beaut dentist as she actually understood what he said. “They told us you might ask that you know!”

      Billy rolled his eyes at her. He wondered if they told her how to answer it as well. He removed the thermometer from his mouth. “What, year, is, it?” enunciating each word so she would hopefully comprehend that an immediate answer was required.

      She stood still looking at him, no discernible concern registering on her face that she felt insulted or anything. Her response ignored his question entirely. “You put that back in your mouth right now,” she scolded.

      Billy was beginning to get a mite upset but somehow kept his anger in check. You could just kill her you know? He СКАЧАТЬ