TWO MONTHS AGO
There’s only one true philosophical question – that of suicide. It was often that Alexander would ponder what Camus had said. Not that he was suicidal or anything, he had moved beyond that point long ago (though it could be argued that his constant smoking constituted some Freudian death-drive). Alexander didn’t believe in death-drives, or any drives really, biological determinism simply wasn’t his thing. He liked his philosophy rough and unpolished, like the taste of a pack of American Spirits. Maybe that was why he had left the Mafia. Or maybe because they had set him up. He had never been sure. Alexander brought the cigarette up to his lips and drew in the acrid smoke. It was delightfully unhewn.
Beside him, a slight chill rustled the plain curtains. ‘So, have you been cutting down on your smoking? Like you said you would?’ A fragile voice floated towards Alexander from the young woman lying on a bed behind him. She looked barely sixteen. Her voice was much like the smoke emanating from his lips, it wafted gently into the vast expanse of the world, thinning and diminishing, until at last – nothing. He craned his neck around, with one side of his mouth twitched up in a smile, and replied ‘Oh most definitely, Yuukio. I haven’t had a cigarette in days, perhaps months,’ Alexander stopped momentarily, partly in order to take a lengthy drag from his now rapidly disappearing cigarette, partly in order to pull out a battered phone from his pocket with his spare hand. A green notification flashed up on the screen – ‘ELIAS AVERESCH’. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and snuffed out the dying cigarette on the windowsill. ‘Was that something important?’ enquired Yuukio, shifting slightly in the sheets, the assorted tubes and clips around her groaning as she did. ‘No,’ smiled Alexander, ‘it was just the boss, wondering how you are.’ Yuukio smiled back – she knew he was lying. Alexander dropped himself down into the sterile looking chair beside the bed. He reached out towards the desk beside Yuukio’s bed, and grabbed with his slender fingers a bright orange book, ‘Did you like it? The Dostoevsky I got you?’ he asked, absent-mindedly flicking through the pages as he did so. ‘I liked it, I think. He reminds me a lot of you, y’know,’ grinned Yuukio.
‘Who? The Underground Man or Dostoevsky?’ Alexander grinned back.
‘Both of them. You’re a tortured existentialist and an intolerable dick’
‘Maybe I should stop buying you books,’ laughed Alexander, mimicking mock-injury, ’I’m going to get you something like Jodi Picoult or Jane Austen next time – stop you thinking so much.’
‘Just cause I’m sick doesn’t mean I can’t think, Alex,’ she retorted, ‘besides, you’re the one always harping on about the importance of education and literacy. What did you get me today?’
‘How do you know I got you something? Maybe I didn’t feel like it.’ Yuukio responded with a look of mock-disappointment, crossing her arms across her thin chest, crinkling the blue hospital gown. Alex laughed, she knew him too well. He reached into the leather satchel on the floor beside him and pulled out a pale-white tome. ‘Here’s your required reading for the week, Yuukio, a bit of Wittgenstein, seeing as you love to talk so damn much. The Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus .’ She reached eagerly out for the book, arms weakly flailing about, as if a small child determined to grasp their carnival prize - a terribly endearing sight to be honest. Alexander gingerly lay the books in her pale hands, almost worried that the weight of the bound paper would press upon her too much.
‘What’s it about, Alex?’ Asked Yuukio, running her fingers over the cover.
‘It’s all about languages, and how it limits and delimits each and every one of our worlds. Ludwig Wittgenstein was a brilliant and tortured man, you’ll enjoy it very much – I think you’ll definitely appreciate his Picture Theory of Language.’ Yuukio looked down at the book, eyes gleaming with genuine pleasure. Alexander reached back down into the satchel and pulled out two more books. ‘Yuukio, I’m leaving these here for you as well,’ he said, placing them with the all the other books on the bedside table, ‘I won’t be able to visit you for maybe a month or two.’ Alexander arose from the barely padded chair – he was sure he could sit no longer before scoliosis set in. ‘Where are you going, Alexander?’ asked Yuukio, laying down the newly acquired book. Alexander smiled, and leant forward as if performing a particularly deep bow, and pressed his lips lightly against her forehead. ‘Get some rest, Yuukio, you’ll see me soon.’ He picked up his bag, and strode out the door.
As Alexander walked down the corridor he pulled out his phone, that of the cracked screen and faulty volume. He opened up his messages and scrolled down to ELIAS AVERESCH. The name had a little lollipop emoji beside it. ‘How are the negotiations going, oh captain my captain?’ he typed. He slipped the phone back into his pocket. Alexander hated prolonged contact with that devil-brick in his pocket. In fact, he hated contact with most technology. He knew that as technology continued to insidiously infest their lives, there would one day, perhaps not far from now – where machines would rise up against humans. He just knew it. But now was not the time for his musings on the downfall of humanity. Alexander arrived at the ward nurses’ station. A rather pretty blonde sat behind the desk, typing busily on the old computer. The pink scrubs fell perfectly over her form. ‘Excuse me,’ said Alexander, putting on his most innocent smile as he peered down at her nametag, ‘Zoe, how are you today?’ She looked up from the screen and into the face of what she could only describe as one of the prettiest boys she had ever seen. Was he handsome? No, he was pretty, definitely pretty, she concluded. Maybe it was actually a girl? In that case, she was one of the prettiest girls she had ever seen. But no, that voice was definitely that of a male’s – a most hypnotising one at that. Putting on as pleasant a smile as she could muster, being an underpaid New York City healthcare worker on a rainy Monday morning, she replied, ‘I’m very well, sir, how can I help you today.’
‘Well,’ Alexander drawled, ‘I’ve noticed that the television in Room 402 doesn’t get any cable. I’m sure it’s just a clerical error.’
‘Oh, let me check the system,’ she replied, ‘what’s the patient’s name?’
‘Yuukio Mikado, 13 years old.’
‘The system says that she’s not paying for any extras, including cable television. I’m sorry, sir, but we can only offer cable to paying patients.’
‘Is that the case?’ Alexander smiled, and as he spoke, his eyes seemingly flashed a dark shade of purple, ‘But I’m quite sure we’ve made the necessary payments for all the extras on offer. All of them. It must be an administrative error.’ A strange sensation seized Zoe. Her mind went blank. All she could feel was a strange pressure on the back of her mind, pushing her, no, now shoving her to do something. Oh, that was right, she had made an administrative mistake. Yuukio Mikado had made the necessary payments for all the extras on offer, but she had screwed up. ‘Oh,’ Zoe muttered, ‘I made an administrative error.’
‘Yes, Zoe, you’ve made an administrative error,’ repeated Alexander, his eyes now a deep violet, ‘you should probably correct that right now and send someone up to Ms Mikado’s room to bring her all her extras.’
‘I should correct that now and send someone up there,’ concluded Zoe, by now already inputting the new information into her computer. Alexander’s eyes returned to their normal shade of black and he headed for the elevator as the blonde nurse reached for the phone.
***
PRESENT DAY
Alexander shifted uncomfortably. The roots of the tree he was sitting under cut into his arse. It made him exceedingly agitated. Although, to be completely honest, it probably wasn’t the tree roots that made him so anxious. The things he and Elias had found, the things they saw on their way up here, Lucy’s kidnapping, they all contributed to the maelstrom in his heart. He reached into his pocket and reached for his smokes, there were only two left in the pack – enough for the rest of the day, maybe. He flicked a cigarette out the pack and lit it. Elias had been gone maybe five minutes, yet Alexander was already worrying for his safety. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Elias to protect himself, it was just that at times it seemed like their whole endeavour, everything they stood for, rested entirely on Elias. The whole façade would come crashing down without him. He was basically the most important person in the world – for them, of course. Alexander wondered what Lies and Astrid were up to, he would get up and look for them, but he had taken one too many Alprazolam and, well, he couldn’t quite feel his body. He was sure they’d be fine, they were capable people after all - perhaps even sensible. Besides, he felt so good right now. Alexander mustered the strength to bring his cigarette up to his lips. It taxed him so when he used his powers, and the headaches never stopped. The fact that they had been travelling for days without end and proper rest only winded him more. Another migraine seized him, sending spasms down his neck. He needed a bed, some rest, another pack of smokes. But it wasn’t the time to talk about what he needed, he had spent enough of his life being selfish. Elias, Lies, everyone needed him to be strong right now. Alexander sighed, more Alprazolam would have to wait until they found a safe bed, all of them. He wondered how Yuukio was doing.