The Fall of Man

Part II chapter 2

Chapter 2

The shrill bleep of an electronic alarm triggers the sound of cushioned feet running on a hard, shiny surface. In the time it takes for anyone to get to Noah’s side, he has rolled himself off the bed and is collapsed alongside it, ensnared in a tangled hammock of bed linen, cables and tubes. His shoulder is propped against a glossy white bedside unit. Two LEDs mounted on its side blink intermittently, illuminating his pale, quivering body with scarlet flashes. One arm is stretched taut across the exposed mattress top; an IV line and a thick umbilical of wires coil like snakes around the trapped forearm and wrist. In between, his pinched skin is the puffy blue-purple of a newborn baby. The other arm hangs limp against his eyes. On the opposite side of the bed, the curtains are partially drawn and the sheer, synthetic fabric sways in a slight breeze.

 “Let me though, please.”

 A tall woman dressed in a simple, collarless white shirt and matching trousers pushes her way through the gaggle of nurses that are gathered at the open doorway and clucking in hushed tones. Moving briskly, she snatches a handset from the foot of the empty bed and then squats before his slumped body. With one pale hand, she pushes a handful of long, straight, dark hair away from her eyes and tucks it behind an ear. Then she reaches forward with the other, and sets a cooling palm on his forehead.

“Noah, my name is Doctor Marsh. You must be careful – please, try not to move. You’re recovering from a very complicated procedure…” 

Three days later, Noah lies stiff and straight under a tent fashioned from the thin, translucent fabric of hospital sheets. If he keeps very still, he is fairly sure that no one can see him. Although he was only shown it once, the footage is burnt indelibly into his memory. From within his crisp white cocoon, it plays back perfectly in cinematic vision every time he closes his eyes.

The video is jerky and not very good quality. You can see the wheels of Benny’s bmx roll over the top of the ramp that his brother made; more of a flop than a jump. Benny stops the bike with his front brake, then his sandaled feet hit the ground to either side. He turns the bike around and pedals a few strokes. The spokes flash past the camera again, back in the other direction. The video pans up to his helmet and zooms in a little, as Benny aligns his front wheel with the ramp for a second attempt. There is a look of thoughtful concentration on his face as he studies the line of his intended trajectory, and digs absently into one ear with his left little finger. Then he glances up the road behind the camera and freezes – eyes fixed on something in the distance, something that is coming towards him.

A faint, shrill tone - at first barely discernible over the fuzzy audio - builds quickly into a piercing crescendo. The camera view spins around to catch the front end of the Range Rover as it slides into shot from the other direction, with its nose hard down to the road and smoke billowing from the front tyres. Tinted windows give the impression that no-one is driving – certainly, at this point they have no control of the vehicle. It appears to glide on the soft black tarmac. The footage is slowed right down; blurred wheels are turned fully to the left, and the heavy front end swings into the skid. The vehicle mounts the kerb but continues to slide forwards. At this point Noah and his father come into shot. They both turn, synchronised, to stare into the chrome headlights just inches from their noses. Arnold’s face is blotchy and shifting in the camera’s big pixels – surprised and monstrous at the same time. He instinctively pushes Noah under the oncoming threat; Noah’s small head glances off the bumper and disappears from view. Then the camera follows the vehicle’s unrelenting passage frame by frame as Arnold’s head impacts on the radiator grille and snaps backwards. Spinning uncontrollably under the force of impact, he tumbles into the path of the wheels and then underneath the car, which comes to rest with a dull jolting thud, embedded in the adjoining breezeblock garden wall.