The Spirit of Christmas – or Saturday night after the Christmas Fair (cont 3)

Blood cooling. Thick black pavement coating. Viscous, congealing. Scarlet spatters on the fluorescent vests covering his prone body, a flimsy shield against shock and cold.

They were getting bored. Had started to think about their bellies and began spilling into the Curry House. I stood hugging myself despite the heat from the kebab stake. I was waiting on the order, on my name being called, when the paramedics green flashing urgency overwhelmed the fairy lights, filling up the Main Street.

The interest reignited. The pavement filled again with gawkers. Hangers-on.

There is a curious silence – reverential – as the professional unpacks his kit and makes the assessment. A radio can be heard, garbled in the night air. There is a request for back-up, just when the police arrive, followed by the ambulance. Again the curious silence. Ears straining to hear the barmaid give details and names – pointing, gesticulating, being told to slow down by the young policeman. The police woman – tiny, blond, large-voiced – pushes the crowd back.

Robert and I unconsciously lean into one another. Then turn, suddenly ashamed by prurient interest, into the Curry House again. To be enveloped in the noise of pot-boiling and stirring and chopping, by the chefs Gujerati swearing. And we stood silent, unsettled by the working indifference. Just life going on, as always.

7 thoughts on “The Spirit of Christmas – or Saturday night after the Christmas Fair (cont 3)

  1. I have no idea what my ultimate response (as opposed to the response to the immediate emergency) would be. I'm not sure whether I'm ashamed to say that, so far as an anonymous individual who obviously invited and partook of violence himself is concerned, I would probably be appalled by the thuggery but unmoved by the individual circumstances.

  2. Yeah, the immediate reaction to an emergency is easy to imagine. I just wonder how long it would take before the nosy in me took over…the gossip.

    We're bad about that in these parts.

  3. Thanks – to you all for taking time to comment.
    My immediate reaction was – shouted out – “oh my God someone phone the police” – and then Robert ran over to see what he could do.
    I just got angry after that.
    And of course, the gossip has been rife ever since…and I am ashamed to say that I've been listening to it…

  4. You can't beat yerself up about the gossip.

    You're just listenin'…that's all :).

    It's a terrible thing that's happened but, putting that aside, you've told a very engaging story. To the point that I've enjoyed and anticipated reading it.

    So any shame I feel in that…I'm blaming on you and your powers as a story teller. 🙂

  5. I understand your anger. Sometimes the hopelessness of a situation sparks a heightened state of anger— just be sure to not internalize the emotion and turn it against yourself.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s