A Strange Tale

The waste from the children’s ward was bagged and dumped in the basement ready for collection and incineration. Or it should have been but the key for the padlock on the metal doors was missing and after a while people stopped looking for it.

So the waste built up. Bags of bandages, splints, plaster casts and other materials that had sheltered and supported damaged children back to health. Bags with memories of pain. Bags full of healing.

For the man who slept rough the fact that the metal doors had not been yanked open and banged shut meant longer sleeps and less shouts of ‘move on’. He knew it couldn't last. Someone would notice and the padlock would be forced. What he didn’t know was it would be him who forced the door.

There was no doubt his life was lonely, made worse by the fact that once he had had a family. A tragedy had robbed him of his loves and with it his life and left him broken.

He drank to make the memories less painful, the hurt deadened temporarily. It started his slide until now no one could see beyond the dirty clothes and the stale smell. No one could see or hear a man who was sobbing on the inside.

As the moon rose that night creating striking shadows at the back of the hospital the man lay awake. The alcohol had not anesthetised his mind and the dark thoughts chased around his head.

At first he couldn’t understand where the noise was coming from believing it must be inside him. It was after many fuzzy minutes that he realised it was from the other side of the metal doors. The sound of soft scratching and a feint voice shouting ‘help’.

He stumbled towards one of the recycling containers and removed a metal bar. Ramming it between the chain and the metal sheet he forced the padlock until it fell with a resounding clang to the floor. He threaded out the chain as quickly and quietly as his shaking hands would allow

The door groaned open and there, standing in the frame opening, with the moonlight dancing across his body was Bandage Boy.

The man fell back his head banging against the cobblestone paving. His eyes shut as the pain racked through his body. He was about to moan when the strangest sensation swept through him.

It was as if all the pain and hurt was being washed from his body. He opened his eyes to see the little Bandage Boy bent over him, his bandaged hand resting upon his chest. As the pain drained away from him so he heard a slight whimpering from the strange little child.

His eyes cleared, the fog in his head gone and he stared at Bandage Boy. A child created and born from plaster casts, splints and bandages was smiling down at him.

As the man reached out towards him the little Bandage Boy crept into his arms to be hugged. The man wrapped his arms around him and held him to his chest. He could feel his heart begin to heal.