alcohol & birth

Afternoon Fight

 At just before 1pm last Wednesday, two men fought in the middle of the square outside the library. One of the men had a short length of metal pipe, which he used to beat his opponent about the head. The other man had only his fists and he swung them in wide arcs, occasionally connecting with his enemy but mostly troubling nothing but the air. A lot of people stood and watched the fight, including me. Eventually, the man with the metal pipe walked off, still screaming at his foe, who although had taken many blows to the skull and torso, remained standing; he croaked back feebly in response to his attacker’s parting verbal barrage and rocked slightly like an ear of corn in the breeze. When I felt sure that there would be no more fighting, I began to move away, slowly, with a couple of backward glances, half hoping that the fight would begin again and that there would be a more satisfying resolution. Why did the man with the pipe stop hitting the other man? I wondered. It seemed strange to me that a person who was willing to attack another person, in a public place, in broad daylight, with a metal pipe, would do so, but would simultaneously possess enough restraint not to beat that other person more comprehensively, maybe even to death.

 By now, the man with the pipe was almost at the far side of the square; he walked furiously, his shoulders high and tight, raised like turrets and his head down, barrelling against the air. I decided to follow him. I wanted to know where a person goes after having beaten someone with a metal pipe.

 I hurried to catch up with the man, who by now had crossed the road at the top of the square and was now marching down the crowded high street. I followed at a distance of about ten feet. As we passed the entrance to shopping precinct, I saw him reach around and slide the piece of metal pipe into the back pocket of his jeans; it didn’t quite fit but the back of his jacket fell over the protruding end and hid it from sight. I supposed that he kept it there all the time, just in case he needed to beat someone.

 Further along the High Street, the pavement narrowed and caused a jam as pedestrians were reduced to a shuffle, I ended up directly behind my quarry as we both entered the bottleneck. Now that I knew it was there, I couldn’t help but stare at the minor protrusion created by the metal pipe, through the fabric of the man’s jacket. I could hear him breathing, heavily, like a runner at the end of a race. He had a very wide back. I could see the stubble on his neck where the barber had trimmed his hairline. I imagined him at the barber shop, removing the metal pipe from his back pocket before he sat in the chair and placing it on the little shelf in front of the mirror, next to the combs and the blue jar of Barbicide. How would the barber react to that? I thought. Maybe he just got his hair cut by somebody he knew.

 I stepped to the side to get an angle on the man’s face. I imagined that the increase in foot traffic and subsequent slowing of pace would have riled him, but, to my surprise, the man’s expression conveyed nothing of irritation, or even of aggression any longer. The corners of his mouth hung limply while his gaze was angled slightly upward, he almost looked bored.

 After we had cleared the heavy throng of walkers, I once again dropped back to a more comfortable distance from the man. Eventually, he turned left, off the High Street and on to a quieter, residential road. I dropped back a few feet more and began to ask myself, how long I should continue in my pursuit; not much was happening and I could feel myself losing interest. My decision was made for me as the man turned again, this time through the front gate of one of the terraced houses, pulled a key from his pocket and entered the front door. I stopped walking and stood for a while, looking at the house of a man who beats people, in public, with a piece of metal pipe – It looked almost exactly the same as all of the other houses in the row, there was nothing remarkable about it at all.

 

 

  1. alcoholandbirth posted this