TRACK 49 Drowning in the Shallow Waters of Prescribed Morality

On Sunday, the three of us drove to Bethnal Green in the pouring rain to get Nick’s gear. Nick hadn’t wanted to report Atom to the police. Melissa was slightly exasperated with her. “Well, you don’t fucking have to,” Melissa said. “He assaulted Amanda, too.”

“He only chased me,” I reminded her. “He didn’t actually catch me.”

“Things are getting better, Nick. You can report a gay-bashing, you know,” Melissa said. “Or a gay-stalking or whatever.”

“Thank you, Dr. I’ve-been-a-lesbian-for-all-of-five-minutes. If things were really any better, you could fucking marry Amanda here and get her bloody, bollocky citizenship.”

“Bollocks,” Melissa said.

They both shut up, and the only sounds were the scraping of the windscreen wipers and the rush of tires on wet pavement.

Sullenly we climbed the stairs to Nick’s flat.

Melissa held an umbrella over the open hatchback as I fit in armloads of clothes and a box of CDs. Then she went upstairs to see if Nick needed any more help.

A male voice said, “Thought you’d got away from me, did you, darlin’?” And I faced the same stocky, stroppy white bloke who’d chased me off the night I’d come looking for Nick.

“What makes you think I was trying to get away from you?” I asked defiantly, immediately regretting it as I remembered I’d fucking run away from him the last time. “We’re here. We’re queer. Fuck off.” The rain splashed our bare heads as we stared at each other. “Just call me Nucleus.” I slammed the hatchback shut and tried to walk past him. He deliberately stood in my way. “I’m not alone this time,” I said. “I’ve got my mates with me. You know, the champion-Rottweiler breeders.” I wondered why I said inane things when my adrenaline was activated. Was adrenaline supposed to make you stupid?

Melissa appeared first in the doorway then Nick. “Is this him?” Melissa asked. “Is he the one?” Nick nodded. “I’m not fucking ’aving it. This is bollocks. I’ll fucking murder him. Listen you,” Melissa poked Atom in the chest with the metal point on the end of her umbrella, “if I ever see you round here again, I’ll make you fucking sorry. Now fuck off.”

Atom grabbed hold of the umbrella. “Now how will you make me fuckin’ sorry?” He pulled Melissa toward him.

The thought of his hands on her made me freak. “Shithead motherfucker!” I lunged at him and shoved him away from her. The next thing I knew, he had my arm up painfully behind my back and my face on the warm hood of the car. I couldn’t see what was going on behind me, but it sounded chaotic. I heard Nick and Melissa yelling at him to let me go. The grip on my arm loosened for a second and I stumbled, trying to yank myself free. Then I was flying through the air. There was a sudden, searing pain in my shoulder, and I was sprawled out on the pavement. My whole left side seemed useless. I thought he’d broken my arm at the shoulder. I tried to sit up. It hurt so much I thought I was going to lose consciousness.

I heard someone else wail in agony. Melissa had jammed the point of her umbrella as hard as she could into Atom’s leg. He fell, and Nick kicked him in the balls with her Doc Martens. I watched the neon pink letters on her belt that screamed “FUCK.” Atom had curled up on the ground in a fetal position. Shouting “If you ever touch either of them again, I will fucking kill you,” Melissa knelt beside me, putting her arms carefully around me.

“Fuck, Melissa,” I said. “I think he broke my bleedin’ arm.”

“Easy, love.” She leaned me against her and prodded me gently. “Fuck. The bastard’s dislocated your shoulder.”

“Put it back!” I howled. “Put it back in!” I’d seen it in films. You popped the shoulder back into place and the pain ceased immediately.

Melissa unwrapped my Exeter scarf from around my neck and carefully made a sling for my arm to keep it still. “You need to go to A and E,” she said steadily. “Have you ever dislocated your shoulder before? No, I didn’t think so. I want you x-rayed and medicated before anybody does anything. And I want to make sure there’s no fracture.”

“Fuckin’ hell!”

“Honestly, you have no idea how much it would hurt if I tried to put it back in,” Melissa said in an even tone. “And without a proper exam, I could cause further damage. Nicky, help me get her in the car.”

I screamed as they got me to my feet and again when they put me in the front seat. I said, “This really fucking hurts!”

“I know, love.” Melissa started the engine and shifted into first. “It’s incredibly painful. Hold your arm against your body. Keep it as still as possible.”

As we sped through slick streets, I told myself to stop acting like a baby. But it was agonizing every time the car stopped or went over a bump. Nick, seated behind me, held my good arm and said, “Hang in there, mate.” Melissa took me to hospital where I had a bit of an excruciating wait, during which Nick tried to divert me from the pain by asking me to list every band I’d ever seen.

Through the fog of my misery, I remembered having forgotten to remember seeing Hazel O’Connor, Judy Tzuke, and Toots and the Maytals. I liked the Toots song “54-46 Was My Number” because it reminded me of being in jail. “Did I remember to tell you I patted Iggy Pop’s head when he sang ‘I Wanna Be Your Dog’?” I murmured absently.

When the triage nurse reached us, Melissa told her I was her patient. I had x-rays taken then lay on a trolley in a cubicle waiting for the doctor to arrive. Melissa stayed with me. I thought, at least I’m not lying in hospital in Basra, Iraq, where there are no anesthetics or clean water because of what we’ve done. Melissa must have seen the look of grief on my face because she held my hand and told me I would be all right.

The casualty doctor looked at my x-rays and examined me. It was a simple shoulder dislocation with no fractures or nerve damage. I got a jab of pethidine and Stemetil in the bum for pain and nausea while Melissa looked on sympathetically. It hadn’t occurred to me until then to wonder how Melissa would handle being with me around people from her professional life. But she didn’t act any differently. That shouldn’t have surprised me in the slightest.

The ward sister came in to assist. They had me sit up on the gurney with my uninjured shoulder against the upright part of the bed. The doctor stood behind me and manipulated my shoulder while the nurse provided downward traction on my arm. There was a brilliant flash of pain then amazing, immediate relief. I was left with a very achy shoulder but not the wailing sort of agony I’d experienced earlier. I was given a sling to hold my arm steady, and Melissa helped me back into the waiting room.

“Alright, man?” Nick put her hand gently on my back. “You were pale as a ghost, you. I’ve never seen nowt like it. It was mental.”

“Let’s get you home,” Melissa said.

Arriving at the flat, Melissa took me upstairs and put me to bed. She brought up the tea and said to Nick, “We’ll bring in your gear from the car later.”

“Leave it,” Nick said. “I needn’t stay here after all. Atom doesn’t scare me anymore.”

“Not now, you’ve kicked the crap out of him,” Melissa said.

“And you. What about you?” Nick marveled. “You probably fractured his whole leg with your brolly. Who knew you had it in you? I mean, mate, you cry at meat.”

“I know. Part of me can’t believe we just left him lying there in the road. Do you suppose someone found him and took him to hospital?”

“Who cares?” Nick said. “I know. You can’t stand seeing anyone in pain. You’re a saint. But he was screeching like a car alarm. Someone will have found him if only to shut him up.”

“You should stay here anyway until it’s completely sorted,” Melissa said.

“I think we just sorted it,” Nick said.

“Stay.”

“Alright. Cheers, Melissa.”

When I felt tired, Melissa carefully arranged a pillow under my injured shoulder and sat next to me stroking my hair. As I was dozing off, I heard Melissa say, “I would have done anything in the world to keep this from happening to you,” and thought something awful must have happened to me. I remember wondering what it was as I crashed into unconsciousness.