Vines of Hunger | ONC 2024

chapter four | gazing down the barrel

My forearm loops around her waist, the smell of caramel wafting between us as I draw her closer to the side of my hip. Her frail arm loosely grips the back of my sweaty neck, somewhat just resting there rather than taking the weight off of her own feet. With one lasting gaze at the man in the taxi, I raise my hand and solemnly wave him goodbye as we weave our way through the cars blocking the bitumen road and drag both of us over to the pavement. The last thing I witness him doing is frantically thrusting his finger against the small tablet that has been attached to the dashboard, I would assume finding another customer.

With each gruelling tread we take in the blistering heat, my Nan groans, unable to hold herself up and leaning further in the side of my body. I try to keep the grunts forming in the back of my throat to myself, not wanting to make her self conscious at the amount I'm struggling.

I've never been one built for athleticism, or any type of active movement, mostly because I never needed to have that type of strength before. My past employment only necessarily needed speed, but in this moment as I heave my nan and myself down the cracked and busterling path, I can only desire for such robust strength to overcome my weepy stature.

Minutes pass, I think, maybe longer, but all I'm acutely aware of is each of the deeply underdeveloped muscles burning beneath the thin layer of skin as we round another identical corner, slowly making our way to the hospital.

In striking contrast to the varying people around us, we are plodding turtles taking our leisurely time when they are the hae stampeding past us, frantic faces blurring past with odd products - that aren't typically of most importance - stashed in between the tight grip of their strained hands. Some carry nothing but the phobia of other people simply being in close proximity to them, their bright and glossy shoes scuffing against the cement as they shift away from any living being that gets alongside them. Their eyes wide in astonishment at the bare audacity of those around them.

Nan's face is downward to the ground as though the simple action of lifting herself up is too much to bear.
How far away are we now? We've turned down so many blocks that I would have thought we would be there, or at the very least close to the aged building. I've fortunately only had to make this trip a few times, but it was always by car. I suppose I underestimated how long of a trek this was going to be, and I don't believe Nan-nan can go much further than this, without succumbing to the burden of her own physique.

My breath is hot and heavy as I plunge forward despite my anatomy coiling in protest. I scout the nearby street signs, once again seeking for anything that will tell me how much space fills the void between us and the building we must be in.

Bang.

I halt, eyes vast, my muscles becoming taut as my neck cranes, inspecting the block around us for anything that could have made such an echoing vibration through these bustling streets and the cavernous depths of my chest. Two lone figures across the road are alike, caution with each gesture they coerce.

A muffed shatter of glass slithers through the cracks of the small grocery shop door a few metres from us. The faded glass window taking up the front of the store, vibrates with each metal clanging from within, and a sharp ding quivers as the entrance is slammed open as a brute of a man falls against it and clashes to the solid concrete, his stubby, buzzed head making a sicking crack as it smacks into the pavement.

My clutch encircling my Nan stiffens as I attempt to tread back from the scene unravelling before us. The smouldering man thrusts himself up onto both of his calloused hands, his splinted nails scraping against the rigid cracks formed along the ground, his white clouded eyes glower through his straggly lashes and at the inside of the store.