Two Alive, стр. 32

“Yeah, let’s get a radio! A radio!” Miles was practically leaping for joy as he followed Johnathan out the classroom. They went down the hall, turned right at the intersection and went to the office, to take a radio from behind the counter of the front desk.

Justine had the receiver to her ear and looked up when she saw Johnathan, “Now I can’t get through to anyone.” She slammed the phone back down, irritated and rubbed her stomach to self soothe. “I keep getting a busy tone every time I dial out.”

Johnathan sighed and signed out the radio. “The leaky roof may have fucked up the phone lines.”

“Ooh, old man you cussed!” Miles said softly, standing behind Johnathan and trying not to laugh.

“Sorry Miles. Just give the phones a minute, I’ll take a look at the lines when I get the chance.” Johnathan clipped the radio on his front pocket then he and Miles left.

They continued down the hall and turned left towards Johnathan’s office. Around the corner, other staff members were standing in the hallway, outside the restroom, complaining about the stalls being occupied.

“Johnathan, they need to hurry up and fix that other bathroom,” one staff said, standing with her arms crossed holding a folder of papers. Her wrinkled forehead was in a frown.

“Still backed up in there?” Johnathan asked.

“Yes, it’s ridiculous. Somebody said they think Greg may have locked himself in one of the stalls again. They keep knocking but nobody answering. And they heard him grunting.”

Johnathan put a hand over his face and shook his head. The last time Greg locked himself in the staff restroom, he was in there masturbating. Johnathan pulled the radio from his pocket and brought it to his lips. “Can we have coverage to the staff bathroom?” He brought the radio back down and said, “There’s someone in the other stall too?”

“Oh, yeah, but I think it’s just Ms. Dottie.”

Johnathan looked up and saw Sam coming around the corner with his radio in hand.

“Hey what’s up, John?” Sam called out with an expression of, where’s-the-fire.

“Greg might’ve locked himself in the bathroom again,” Johnathan replied, and Sam just shook his head.

“Yeah, ok. Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.” Sam lifted his Oakland Raider’s hat and scratched his head, then went into the restroom.

“Thank you, Sam.” Johnathan went to the door of his office and entered, closing the door after Miles.

Johnathan grabbed the box of shirts from under his desk and emptied the contents on the table, before giving the box to Miles. Then he grabbed another box he had been meaning to throw away and stacked it on the box in Miles’ hands.

“You got it? Is it too heavy?” Johnathan joked.

Miles laughed with a goofy smile. “I got it! This is weak and I’m too strong!”

“You sure are buddy. C’mon.”

They left the office as quickly as they had entered and went left down the hall towards the door to the back parking lot; where the dumpsters were. Miles and the old man went out the door and were met with a cool morning air. Miles was about to slide down the handrail in the middle of the stairs, but Johnathan stopped him, warning that the boy might break his neck. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Miles tried to take off running to the green dumpster, but Johnathan snapped his fingers and the boy stopped.

“Hold on. We gotta break them boxes down before we just throw them away.”

“Oh yeah, right.” Miles laughed and started pulling and tearing at the cardboard in his hands.

Johnathan looked back and past the garden behind him, he could hear Francine teaching her class and calling for everyone’s attention. When he turned back he saw Miles had finished breaking apart the first box so Johnathan took the second and dropped it on the ground.

“Stomp on it,” Johnathan said.

The boy gleefully started stomping on the box and flattening it. Johnathan’s smile faded when he saw a rustling in the bushes behind the dumpster. He wasn’t sure what was causing the movement, but it was bigger than a rat or mouse. Bigger than a cat or even a raccoon. This was something like a big dog. But actually, it was a person who came stumbling out from behind the dumpster wearing no more than saggy, soaked jeans and a pair of sopping socks on his feet. Goosebumps covered his body possibly from sleeping in those bushes all night with no shirt on, which might also have explained his sickly skin tone; pale with dark bruising all over.

But nothing could explain the cold dead eyes of this mid-fifties looking, scraggly man. The man’s eyes were vacant but primal. He was a statue with steam rising from his naked shoulders. His hairy chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath. The man was wild looking with scratches all over his face that looked self-inflicted. The vagrant’s eyes were fixated on Johnathan and Miles across the parking lot.

Johnathan’s eyes were locked on a bite mark on the strange man’s shoulder; blood was running down from the dark, infectious wound there. Johnathan’s gut instinct was this man was a threat. A thick air between them seemed seconds from turning to some form of violence. Miles was turning to look and see what had Johnathan’s attention and as soon as he saw the disoriented drifter, the savage man twitched with a violent shake.

Miles yelped, surprised or frightened, and the homeless man lowered his shoulders and started walking towards Johnathan and his student.

“Mr. Johnathan…” Miles said hesitantly.

“Miles get over here.” Johnathan grabbed the boy’s collar and pulled the small child behind him. “Hey buddy. Are you ok? Are you hurt? Do you want me to call a paramedic?” Johnathan put his hands up, trying to decrease the tension