Disclaimer: Jay & Silent Bob are the intellectual property of Kevin Smith and View Askew Productions, and I have no intent to profit financially from the use of these characters.
ELEVEN
Gave me a bath today. Chick came in, an old chick, coulda been somebody's grandma, pulled the green curtains shut and gave me a sponge bath. Washed my hair too, best she could with me still stuck in this bed. Was kinda whacked, especially when I got a fucking boner in the middle of the whole thing, but she laughed and made a joke about it and it wasn't so bad.
And my hair's nice and clean and brushed out and looks good. Like I said before, I'm picky about my hair. S'important to me. It's about the only fucking thing I got left anymore.
Thing is, I'm kinda pissed they picked now. Like it's ok I'm all sweaty and funky and my hair's all fucking tangled and greasy against my neck, when it's just me laying here and just Silent Bob hanging around to keep me company. But when social services calls and says they're coming, they break out the soap and make me presentable. I only get to be clean if it's a special fucking occasion, I guess.
Not just cause I'm a human fucking being who might feel better if somebody fucking . . . ah, fuck, who cares. Tired. Fucking tired again. Let out a breath and turn my head on the pillow, look over at Silent Bob, left arm still in a sling across his chest, sleeping sitting up in one of those fucking hospital chairs that make his ass go numb. I seen him scooting around, rubbing his butt with that look on his face. I notice that shit. Don't think I ain't paying attention to shit like that.
Think it's been ten days now, that I've been in this place, and I'm still in intensive care cause half my guts ain't working so good yet. I don't have the energy to run my mouth but ever since they told me fucking social services was gonna come down and fuck with me, I've been running it anyway, trying to drown out the fucking thoughts in my head.
Fucking social services. They ain't all assholes. Some of them've really tried to help me. But they keep fucking it up. Over and over again. Fucking it up bad. Group homes and foster parents and fucking "youth centers", all of them are fucking worse than the street. At least on the street you can fucking run and hide, hit back without getting punished for it.
At least on the street you get paid for the dicks you end up having to suck.
Oh fuck. Oh fucking shit. Blonde bitch walking around in the hallway, right outside the fucking window, grey business suit that don't quite fit her, cheap looking briefcase. Social worker. Fucking social worker's here.
"Silent Bob? Silent Bob?" Can't yell at the tubby fucker, I ain't got enough breath, and he ain't moving. Sleepy bitch. Supposed to be here. "Be here" don't mean snoring while he slobbers onto his fucking shirt. "Silent fucking Bob!" Nothing.
Fuck, that bitch is talking to the doctor now, my doctor, glancing in the fucking window and the doc's nodding and shit. God, this fucker is a heavy sleeper. Wish I wasn't such a pussy about all this, wish it didn't scare the shit out of me, but my heart's starting to pound and my stomach's starting to shiver and if Silent Bob would just open his fucking eyes, I could bite my lip and grind my teeth and make it through.
Scan the room out of habit, fight or flight reflex kicking in, looking for exits that ain't there and even if they were, I couldn't walk across the fucking room to use them. Cup. There's a pink plastic cup on the bed tray. Pick it up and throw it at him, little splash of water hits his face and he sits up straight with a curse, swatting the air to defend himself.
"What the hell . . . ?" he's saying, squinting at me, wiping his face with his sleeve. Sees the cup in the floor. "Did you just – "
"Social worker." I interrupt, before he can get in my face. "Fucking social worker's here." Silent Bob glances out the window and gives the bitch a onceover, one eyebrow raised, cautious. Breathe deep now, now that he's on the job again, settle back and lick my lips. My heart comes down outta my throat and the knot in my stomach unwinds some. He picks up the cup and puts it back on the tray.
"I'll be right back." he says, and he joins the doc and the blonde out in the hall. More talk. Silent Bob's between them and the door, stiff, shoulders back. S'right, bitch, you gotta go through Silent Bob to get to me. Then he fucking shakes her hand. Shit. I don't like it but I understand.
Bitch has more right to be here than he does. He can't keep her out. They'd fucking drag him away if he tried and then I'd be alone again. He's gotta make nice.
But I don't.
"Jay?" Silent Bob's the one coming in first, but it's her talking. She's young, way younger than these broads usually are, and she sounds nervous. Bitch probably just got outta college. Her boss must really hate her fucking guts, sending her out here to cut her teeth on me. "Jay, my name's Julie Campbell."
Right up to the bed now, offering me her hand. I stare at her. Blue eyes, pretty makeup, straight teeth, pearl necklace. Hair's curly, stops at her shoulders. The hand stretched out to me is shaking. Pink fingernails, couple of gold rings with small stones that look real. Not worth much, even at the right pawn shop.
Shit, bitch, I'm sorry, but I still don't like you. You're still one of them.
"Yeah, so?" I say. Stuff my hands under the blankets and shrug, glance away, like maybe I'm bored. Silent Bob comes around to the other side of the bed and touches my shoulder. Ready to get pissy on his fat ass, figure he's trying to tell me to have some manners, but when I look up, he's watching her with fierce eyes.
Relax another few notches into the bed and take some more deep breaths.
"Uh . . . " Julie Campbell says. Her hand hangs next to me another second and then she pulls it back and clutches the top of the briefcase. She says "Uh" a few more times and then goes into the line of shit they all shovel about how she's here to help me.
"Lady, listen." I finally say, stopping her mid sentence. "I don't know what kind of shit they told you about me, maybe you ain't read the file, but there ain't no need to bullshit me cause I been through this all before. You got questions to ask and papers to fill out so let's just get the fuck on with it."
Her eyes go wide and her mouth pops open. Shit, she really is new to this game. Mary fucking Sunshine. I'm probably the first honest to God street rat she's ever met. Fucking sheltered bitch. For some reason, that pisses me off.
"Quit fucking staring at me, you tight assed bitch, and do your fucking job." Mouth snaps shut. She finds a chair and opens the cheap briefcase, pulls out papers and a pen and starts asking the questions. I keep my answers short. Silent Bob stays on his feet, good hand resting on my shoulder.
Everything's going ok, but that don't stop my muscles from quivering or my stomach from clenching. Fuck I'll be glad when this is over. Brings up too much shit for me, shit I can't push away right now cause I'm tired and hurting, just like Silent Bob said the other day.
Finally, fuck, we're done with current events, the stabbing, the last year I've been living in the street, and I'm steeling myself, getting ready for the crap about how hard I am to place due to my "attitude" and my "history" and all of that shit.
But instead of that, she says, "Jay, there's a few things missing from the file." Chewing on the end of her pen and shuffling through her papers, she looks up at me and narrows those blue eyes. "I don't find many details in here about your last placement. The Carters? Perhaps you can help me with that?"
Mr. Carter. Mr. fucking Carter with his big cock and his hairy arms and his black fucking leather belt with the big buckle that left square welts on the backs of my legs. Mr. Carter who had the run of the house and the three of us foster kids after dark, Mr. Carter who kept me in line by threatening to fuck the other two if I wouldn't let him fuck me.
Dizzy. Fuck. Feel dizzy all of a sudden. Can hardly breathe. My chest hurts.
"Jay?" Silent Bob says on the other side of me, alarmed. Then "Nurse!" I shut my eyes and just concentrate on trying to get air into my lungs. Mr. fucking Carter with his big fucking cock . . . "NURSE!"
Commotion going on now, can hear it even if I can't see it. Mary Sunshine getting shuffled outta the room with her fucking cheap briefcase and her fucking questions about Mr. fucking Carter who got off on making me bleed . . .
Shit, Jay, you gotta get him out of your fucking head or you're gonna give yourself a goddamn heart attack.
"Jay it's ok." Silent Bob says, rubbing one of my arms while somebody else touches the other. "She's gone now, no more questions, no more anything. Please just try to breathe, ok, and relax. It's over. It's over, ok?" No more, yeah, no more right now, over. No big cocks up my ass here at the hospital, no leather belts.
Then his hand's on my forehead, stroking my hair back. Silent Bob's hand. That's ok. He won't hurt me. He won't let anybody else hurt me either. Beginning to get easier to breathe. Remember now to breathe through my nose, where there's more oxygen, and the hurt in my chest fades.
"That's good, Jay." The doctor. "That's it. Deep breaths through your nose. You're just fine." Then to Silent Bob, "He's ok, Bob. He's ok. Really. Just got overstimulated. Should have known better, I'm sorry about that. Should've known how upsetting this was going to be and made them wait until he was stronger."
Silent Bob keeps stroking my hair and the doctor yaps some more about how my heart just started beating a little faster than they'd like, considering the shape I'm in, but that everything looks fine and there's nothing to be worried about. No harm done.
He finishes up, and I hear him tearing papers from the heart monitor and scribbling in my chart. "Jay, I want you to stay calm. Do you understand?" Open my eyes. Dr. Gardner. He's a nice guy. Always looks kinda tired. He's smiling. "Hello? Do you understand? Stay calm. Behave."
"Yeah." I tell him. Silent Bob sighs and I realize he's been holding his breath. Shit. He was really worried about me. Eyebrows pulled together, lower lip between his teeth. Still has his good hand on my hair. "Sorry." I say, quietly. He sighs again, takes a deep breath and calms down himself as the doctor leaves.
"Don't do that." he says, letting me go and stepping back, rubbing his eyes, cracking his knuckles one handed.
"Do what?"
Shakes his head and smiles. "Freak out like that and scare me." Turns around to his coat hung over the chair, and pats it down for his cigarettes. It ain't his trench, which is still at the cleaners. They're having a hard time washing my blood out of the thing.
"I'll try not to. Bet on it." He laughs, glances out the window. She's still hanging around, that blonde bitch, peering in here at me like I'm a goldfish in a fucking bowl, wringing her hands. Silent Bob watches her a second then turns back to me.
"You ok now? Is it ok if I go have a smoke?" He's gonna talk to her. Give her shit? Make nice? Make time, maybe? She ain't bad looking, for a nervous ninny fucking social worker without a clue. Good size tits. Long as she don't come back in here and remind me of all the stuff I've worked so hard my whole fucking life to forget, I guess it's ok he talks to her.
"Sure. I ain't going nowhere." He touches my arm again before he takes out a cigarette and his lighter and leaves.
Nurse comes over, not that bitch Michelle, who ain't been around since she and Silent Bob had words, but one of the ones who smiles at me and has gentle hands. She fixes my pillow and lowers the bed some, asks me if I'm feeling cold and gets me a heated blanket when I say yes. She fixes it up over me, tucks me in, turns the TV on and gives me the remote.
"Star Wars is coming on Channel 5 in about ten minutes." she whispers, and she runs her hand over my hair like Silent Bob was just doing a few minutes ago before she walks away.
This place ain't so bad, really. Safe. Warm. Some good people, more of them in one fucking place than I've ever seen. And Silent Bob.
Never got around to that part where Julie Campbell had to start talking about what happens when I leave here. I'll tell you one thing, I ain't looking forward to going. I ain't fucking looking forward to it at all. These people ain't had the best track record, now have they? It was them that set me up with Mr. Carter in the first place.
Shiver. Snuggle down under the warm blanket. Flip over to Channel 5. Forget about it.