Bag of Weasels. Chapter 4.

I got yanked up and scraped over the low wall next to the towpath, spun round and put back on my feet, then looked up into the face of Ralph.
"What the fuck do you want? he growled.
"I've come to find you? I whined.
"Yeah, I've been watching you. And I've been watching them watching you. What's your game, Sunny?
I was lost for words. Our joyful reunion had gone out the window and I knew Ralph well enough to twig I was a gnat's cock away from a hiding ' and from the old Ralph; it would hurt.
I looked at him and he looked at me. He reached a decision, and let me loose.
"Come on, he barked, and before I could speak he stamped off, leaving a trail of muttered words.
He burned his way back down the towpath and I had to be quick but crowds closed behind him and swept me back. I pushed and weaved until I caught him by the sleeve and without looking back he tugged me on, walking so fast I had to jog and stop, jog and stop. He kept whirling about, looking all ways at once, arms and trench coat flapping around him, turning heads and catching stares.
Then he stopped, grabbed me again and yanked me off the path, across the green and into a dip, the start of a subway that led under the road, its entrance closed off by rusted padlocked gates. We stood in this alcove ankle deep in leaves and crisp bags and other blown-in wind sweepings, hidden.
"I think we're safe here, Ralph said.
"What's going on? I was lost now, that was all I could say, but Ralph didn't clarify.
"How did you find me?
"I found Flea. He told me.
"Fucking Flea.
Ralph shut his eyes and his shoulders slumped, and he rocked on his feet. I noticed that the soles of his trainers were gone, and guessed he was only wearing what was left for cosmetic reasons: you get too much attention if you walk around barefoot. He must have done some walking. He stood up straight again and opened his eyes, leaning closer.
"They won't let me be, Sunny, they won't, he whispered. He was scared.
"I'm not mad Sunny, I know I've said it before, but this is real. It's true.
I couldn't keep up. Still lost, it made me feel dizzy.
"Ralph, slow down, I don't know what you're talking about; I'm a bit unnerved by it. Please help me out here. I hoped he'd come across with something. He gave it a go.
"Sorry Sunny. I've been so alone out here. I can't trust anything anymore, I need to escape. Things have taken a real twist. I want to trust you, Sunny, I can't carry all this.
I was still no clearer, but at least he was trying. He gave some more.
"So much is happening. I am tired and hunted and will not be tested, Sunny. Don't get me wrong, it's great to see you but I'm all over the place. I need to gather my strength. Do not mess with me.
It's great to see you too Ralph.
"Ralph. We need to talk, if that's ok. I'd like to talk.
He finally smiled, but then he was marching off again.
"Where you going now?
"We've been here too long. I've got to pop home.
Ralph had a home?

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"This is where I've been, he said, stretching out his arms to encompass the spread before me: an arrangement of blankets, milk crates and ripped cardboard boxes leant up against the back of a toilet wall with the half 'hearted help of some sticks.
"Isn't it a bit public? I asked, "what with the toilet being a public convenience?
"The general clientele here don't go in for drawing attention to themselves, Ralph answered, with a wry smile. "Trust me, they leave me alone and I return the favour.
Fair enough.
"So, Ralph. What's the story here? I tried to sound familiar, like a friend, whatever that meant.
Ralph gave me a weighing-me-up sort of look. "Remember what I told you, back in the ward? Remember why I was there?
"Yes I do! I yelped, "That's why I'm here!
I was yanked up in the air a third time. Bad energy rising. I did not wish to go the way of Flea; I did all I could: I spoke at the speed of light.
"Wait Ralph wait, Please listen to me. I've found things, like what you used to tell me about. That's why I'm here. I don't know what it means, it might mean nothing, I just had to come and find you, ask you yourself.
"What you found, Sunny? You seen something? Felt something? Get on with it.
"I found some writing. Loads of it. Said out loud, it didn't sound that impressive. "I couldn't make much sense of it, but then I couldn't make much sense of you. I thought you were crazy ' careful ' "but this was all the same Ralph. The same as what you used to tell me, about what you'd found. All written down in crazy writing.
"And so you came here?
"Yes, to find you. C'mon, it's too weird, finding this stuff repeating your story. I thought I was going again. That's why I came out here - I wanted to check it out with you, to know what you know, what they're writing about, whoever they are. I want to know for myself.
He sat himself down on a milk crate, and gestured for me to take the one next to him.
"Sunny, there's a whole lot you don't know. There isn't time to go through all the past, but believe me, I do not want to hang around here for too long.
He'd reeled me in, saying "there's a whole lot you don't know. Combined with Ralph's hospital monologues repeating themselves on paper found in an empty house in distant Plaistow, and I was hooked; a curious cat.
"What don't I know?
"I just told you, there isn't time. C'mon Sunny, get with it. Look, do you know what happened to me, after the wards?
"Yes I do. We'd all seen or heard about what they'd done to Ralph, the cruelty of the chemical straightjacket.
"Well for crying out loud Sunny, haven't you wondered how I've come to be standing in front of you right now, holding a conversation? Actually stringing a sentence together?
Sort of, yes. When Flea told me he'd been chucked in the river, I'd been curious, but then till now had zipped by too fast.
So Ralph told me.
"I was dumped here after the ward. They'd come once a month in a van, take me off the street and inject me. Then put me back on the hill like a clockwork toy.
"By the time they'd return I'd be coming back out of it, but they would appear and send me back down again.
"Then, they missed a shot. They just didn't come. Some sort of slip up. I threw up, shook, had convulsions, and could hardly walk.
"Luckily, I was down here by the river, so no-one saw, and no-one helped, and I came out the other side. I came back.
"But I knew they would come back for me. You see, they knew that when I came back, I would remember everything. They knew that.
He paused, probably to prepare me for his next sweeping statement.
"Look, Sunny, I love you to bits and all that, but when we were back on the ward, you'd broke down, lost the lot. You really had flipped out. Sorry mate, but it's true. You must know that. But I was put there to keep me out of the way. To keep me quiet. I was fine until they took me and then they put me in that chemical straightjacket. I would sooner be locked in a cage than go through that again.
I was hurt, but it was true, on my part anyway. But I really wouldn't have said that Ralph was on top of it. But then, I wasn't a doctor either. It didn't feel safe to ask if he might be paranoid. They had definitely messed with him though. As I considered broaching the subject, Ralph dug around in his deep trench coat pockets.
"Look at this. He pulled out some cheese crackers, and a squidged up piece of clear plastic, filled with brownish orange gooey lumps and thick liquid. There was a wrinkled old label still stuck to it. Once, long ago, this had enjoyed a previous existence as a packet of kippers. "This was my life, he said, holding the packet aloft in imitation of his old stance. "This meant the world to me. This piece of rubbish had the power. Why I thought that, I don't know now. I just know they left me here with this to live for, and nothing else, in the belief that this would be my lot. When I finally came back round, it was there in my pocket. Couldn't remember what it was until just before I saw you. Then it came flooding back; marching in all weathers, suffocating in my own body, focusing on this one thing to stop me from drowning altogether. It can go now. And he slung it away.
"You'll have been well clocked, Sunny; coming down here's put you right in the picture. They'll hunt you out and knock you down so you won't even know your name, if they get the chance. They're here, and we've got to go. Now you're in it with me. Where'd you find this writing?
"Plaistow, where I've come from. In the usual place ' an empty house. Got in, found the papers. You always find that sort of thing, you know that, but this time, like I said, it was the same mad stuff you were ranting on about. Oops.
"I never ranted. I take offence to that, Sunny. And it's not mad stuff. If it was, we'd be fine.
Then, our party was joined; a rat stuck its head out of a hole in the wall. I'm ok with rats ' often enough we share the same places ' but Ralph broke off some cracker and held it out to within a whisker. Now rats will get out at the first sniff of danger, they're clever - you can learn a lot from a rat - but this one emerged from its hole, took the cracker in its front paws and proceeded to nibble.
"She's been here all the time, said Ralph, "she got used to me, and never ran away. I guessed that meant something. He got up and leaned his bulk over the tiny creature, holding out a spade-like hand. The rat hopped on.
"Gotta go now, princess. Say goodbye to your friends for me.
He put the rest of the cracker in the hole, and let the rat hop back in.
"How do you know she's a girl?
"She's got long eye lashes.
"Oh.
We got up and left.
"We've gotta be quick, said Ralph.
Yep, quick and shifty.