The Plain White Room (9 page)

Lepus stood in line for breakfast, a beige coloured tray in his hands.

Beige was a colour that he had never liked. He felt that it was a colour that didn’t know what it wanted to be. And that it ought to.

The thought had often crossed his mind, that it was either just a weak and feeble brown, or a yellow that was trying to be special.

His mind wandered from colour combinations to the structure of the tray. The lattices of particles requiring it to be held together. All of those atoms going to all that trouble just for him.

“Darlin’?” a voice cut through his thoughts.

“What, I’m sorry?” he said, looking up confused.

“I said good mornin’, do you want some toast?” The orderly said holding two pieces of toast with tongs.

“Oh yes please,” he said. “Jam and toast are my favourites.” He beamed, picking up packets of jam and butter as she placed two pieces of toast on a plastic plate and placed it on his tray.

“Do you find it strange that Latin and Spanish are almost the same languages? One of them a dead language? Such an emotive word. How strange is that?” He said as he stepped to his right moving with the line. “Hon,' I never really thought about it,” she said smiling.

“Oh of course,” he said smiling and sitting down at a long table with plastic chairs. He sat by himself, but there was a short old Asian manat the end of the table. Lepus started buttering the toast humming to himself.

“That’s a lovely tune,” the old man murmured.

“Why thank you,” Lepussaid happily. He was in an unusually jovial mood.

“It’s by The Beach Boys, one of their lesser known hits. But it’s my favourite, classic Americana!”

“Ah yes,” nodded the man with a smile which seemed to affect his entire face. His eye crinkled shut as he did.

Lepus bit into his toast and enjoyed the audible sweet crunch which resonated through his mouth. He smiled for the first time in a long time and realising that seemed too strange to him. There was nothing special about this day to be happier than the last.

The old man moved up a seat closer to Lepus. “You know,” he said, his voice waving. “I used to be in an acapella group.” Lepus bit down on his toast again. Making an interested face in response to what the man had said.

“Oh yes, back where I’m from when I was growing up. We did 1950’s American songs. Something different where I’m from.”

“Really?” said Lepus, intrigued. “Where that?”

“Peng Chau.” the man said, moving up another seat to that he was now in front of Lepus.

“It’s a small island off the coast of Hong Kong.”

“Sound nice,” Lepus said as he finished off his toast.

“So what do you do since you’ve moved here?”

“I’m a programmer. A computer programmer.”

“Ah”

“Yeah, yep,” he said nodding.

“Embedding programming. Well, I’ve been a lecturer for most of the time.”

“Oh really where do you work?”

“An institute of computer technology.”

“I see. Do you enjoy it?”

“Yes, yes,” the man said nodding humbly.

“Oh I’m Lepus by the way, how rude of me.”             

“Oh, I am Carter, see nice to meet you,” he said smiling and nodding again.

The old man shifted in his seat. His hip clearly causing him a great degree of discomfort. Lepus gulped down another mouthful of sweet buttery jamed toast.

“
Would you like to swap seats
?
” he said with his mouth half full.

The ma
n’
s face lit up.

“
Why no, thank you. I
t’
s not the chair;i
t’
s an old injury. Never quite could get it to go away,
I’
ve tried all the chairs in here. None of them give me any comfort. But it is very nice of you to have offered, young man
.
”

“
Not at all
,
” Lepus said smiling with his jam covered teeth. 

“
Especially when yo
u’
re only just started your meal
.
”

“
Are you not eating
?
”

“
The man looked down at his hands. No, no I do
n’
t eat much. Sort of lost my appetite I suppose
.
”

Lepus finished licking the tips of his fingers as the man spoke. He started to feel very guilty for scoffing his face in front of him.

Something about the slow, soft words made Lepus suddenly feel at unease about the topic.

“
You lost your appetite because of something this morning
?
” Lepus said. The man smiled a bleak almost vacant smile.

“
No, no. I
t’
s been awhile now. Sort of lost my appetite for most things
.
”

“
What do you mean? What else can you have an appetite for
?
”

“
Oh,lots of things
.
” He said pulling in the chair, much closer to the table and Lepus.

“
Like pass my boy, I used to cycle lots. Bicycl
e’
s I mean. Somethings with my wide. Teaching, oh how I used to love teaching. His eyes drifted.

“
Smiling mostly too.I
t’
s a bit of a strain now but at least that I can still do
.
” His face contorted, and his lips parted.

Lepus began to get frustrated with the man
,“
But why? You ca
n’
t just lose your appetite like that. You ca
n’
t just stop caring about everything. There has to be a reason.
A
… a cause.Feelings do
n’t
… they do
n’
t just get up on the dayand decide to wander out the door. You do
n’
t just forget how to smile, i
t’s
… Well,i
t’
s like breathing
.
”

He stood up and the chair slid out behind him. He felt eyes on him and when he looked around at those watching him he realised he was painting with rage.

“I’m
…
I’
m sorr
y
” he said pushing in his chair slowly. He hung his head and walked back down the hall to his room.

***

Lepus’s eyelids strained open. He moved his head raising it as he did he felt the saliva between his hand and his cheek peel away. He realised he had fallen asleep in the main room of the hospital ward. The television in front of him perched on a book shelves filled with self-help books and board games.

The ward was silent, but if it was too late at night, a nurse would have roused him.

Lepus looked up at his laptop to find his notes crumpled under the weight of this arms, fromfalling asleep on top of them.

A man next to him stirred, Lepus hadn't noticed him. He was sitting with his eye open staring forward into space.

Lepus sat upright and looked at the man. The man was wearing slippers and brown trousers. A cardigan and a look of empty sorrow.

“Hello,” Lepus said, his words moved through the thick, still air.

The man turned his head towards Lepus; his eyes were bloodshot, and his mouth was curved into a bleak frown. He wet his lips by opening and closing his mouth a few times. Before saying with a croaky voice “Hello,” the old man coughed and rubbed his chest.

“I’m Lepus,” Lepus said placing his work beside him. He sensed the confused loneliness of the man.

“I’m John Keck,” The man said back, the words just over a whisper.

Lepus noticed he had a bible in his hand.

“Are you reading?” Lepus enquired.

“No, no …" His gaze strayed to his small leather bound bible.

“My eyes these days. I can’t focus on anything for long enough.”

Lepus wanted to groan with pity for the poor man but instead thought of something better to do.

“Would you like me to read to you?” Lepus cringed at the thought, as he despised the Bible. His parents had been devout and had only recently allowed the idea to settle; that he would never join their passion. They had always pressed his love of science. Most likely only because of the free ride that came with it.

When evolution came up in conversation, someone would often mutter the words “a splendid idea, of course, but never provable,” Or even “an explanation of gods how, but not his why.”

Then everyone would avoid eye contact for a moment, and a new topic would somehow crop up.

Lepus was relieved to see John’s face light up. “Would you?” Lepus stood up and moved chairs over to sit next to the man, he took the Bible out of his hand and began to read from the page which was marked.

‘Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven.’

‘So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honoured by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full.’

‘But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.’

Lepus continued to read for a while, as the man closed his eyes concentrating, on Lepus’s words. The ward was silent except for his light tones, echoing down the halls.

After a long while, Lepus closed the book. “Was that okay?” Lepus asked as a tear fell from the man's eye.

“It was perfect thank you, but I couldn’t concentrate, my mind these days… I … the words they just slip past me. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Lepus said, wanting to get back to his work or sleep, but unable to leave the man's heartbreaking eyes. “Would you like to tell me about yourself maybe?” Lepus suggested.

The man’s face lit up. “Not much to tell my boy.” Lepus placed the Bible on his lap and began to listen to the quiet man.

His lip quivered. “I spend most of my childhood by myself. My siblings were older, a brother and a sister. My brother is the oldest. They don’t speak anymore. I grew up in a dusty town, far from any cities I left school when I was in my adolescence. My father had left, and my mother got sick. She had cancer. I had to look after her as my brother and sister had both moved out.

Tears began to gather in his eyes. She died after a few years, and I went and lived with a priest.

He was so kind, gave me a place to stay and a job keeping the gardens at the church. I was there for many years, but he got ill and had to move back to where he was from.” John paused and looked down. His short light brown hair is almost covering his eyes for a moment. Then he looked up, “I think he was English. Anyways, after that, I got a job as a clerk. I was in my twenties, and I tried so hard. But I fell on hard times then.” The man continued his story, but parts seemed to slip as he talked. His tone started to descend, and the brightness went from his eyes. He started talking about his brother and sister trying to get rid of him.

“They wanted the insurance money from Mum. My brother would call me and taunt me. He still does, he’s why I’m here.” Lepus started to feel his ‘tell me all about you’ idea may have failed.

“Were there happy times when you were a clerk?” he chipped in, being careful not to cut the man off.

“Oh yes!”

“When I was working there were happy times. I met this lass, Wendy.” He paused smiling "She was wonderful; the darkest longest hair you ever saw. I loved her so much. I just wanted to look after her. She hadn't had a good life. Lots of bad things had happened to her. She was beautiful and kind, though. She had a little daughter. Savannah, she was such a good girl, so sweet. They would come over and stay sometimes. When Wendy would get scared. She was reserved, but would open up to me sometimes. She had left her husband. He was a nasty man; he did bad things to them.” John coughed as old men often do. Making strange gurgling noises, then shuffling forward on his chair.

“I would come over,” he paused for an instant looking out the glass doors of the ward. Into the courtyard which was pitch black. He seemed lost until he turned back to Lepus and began up again. “I would go to the store for her… this one time he wanted some wine for pasta I had made for her. I said okay I’ll get it, you just stay. Don’t open the door for anyone else; I had said.”

“So I went, and I got her some wine, and a bit of chocolate and something else. I can’t recall oh bread perhaps. I …” John’s face seemed to change; the animation drained from his face, and he furrowed his eyebrows looking at Lepus. “I’m sorry, I don’t quite recall what I was saying” Lepus’s stomach dropped, he felt defeated. He had hoped to ease the man's suffering, but he released there was no helping. Perhaps just listening had helped.