(Note to the reader: This is a revised and augmented version of the original story.)
This story contains descriptions of unprotected sexual activity. Such behavior in real life exposes the participants to the utmost risk. This fictional account, meant purely as fantasy, is in no way intended to promote it.
As Travis walked along a busy street that morning on his way to the bus stop for his trip to work, he was met by the spectacle of a man with a bloodied head sitting against a building. Any unusual sight disturbed Travis, and what disturbed him even more in the present case was the behavior of people walking past, unconcerned and in some cases even resentful at the inconvenience of having to walk around the man's outstretched legs. Only one person even acknowledged his presence explicitly, and it was only to say something to her companion about 'these drunks'.
Travis was disgusted by such displays of callousness. Drunk or not, the man was injured and needed help. Travis felt that he should do something.
That was a problem: Travis conducted his life in accordance with a strict routine and a precise schedule; anything that threatened to disrupt them was very upsetting. He wanted to stop and offer help, but it might make him late for work. He had
never
been late for work.
A drop of blood splashed onto the ground. Travis slowed his pace, wrestling with the urge not to get involved. Then, against strong internal resistance, he stopped. Bending over the stranger and speaking softly to avoid frightening the man, he asked: "Do you want medical help?"
The man looked up at him and answered "Yes ... thank you" in perfectly clear speech. He was definitely
not
drunk.
Travis took out his cell phone and called 911. After hanging up, he said: "Help is on the way. I have to go now."
"Thank you" the man said again, in a tone that made his gratitude clear.
As Travis was turning away, he saw a trickle of blood run down the man's face. It stopped him and prompted him to take out his handkerchief. Finding the place where the bleeding seemed to originate, he applied the handkerchief and said: "Keep pressure on this until the paramedics get here."
Now quite pleased with himself, he moved on. He had done what he could; maybe he would still be able to get to work on time.
Hearing a 'clunk', he turned and saw that someone had actually kicked the man's shoe to move the foot out of their way. He was appalled! He walked back to the seated figure and phoned in to tell his boss's secretary that he would be a bit late.
While he stood guard against further abuse, he asked what had happened.
The man looked dazed. "I don't know. Something must have hit me on the head. I blacked out."
There was nothing on the ground that could have fallen from the building. "Is anything missing? Do you still have your wallet?"
The man searched his pockets. "No."
"You were probably mugged. Well at least they didn't take your watch, it looks expensive. How long have you been here?"
"I'm not sure. A few hours I think."
That made sense. The mugging had probably taken place early, when no one else was around.
A patrol car pulled up and a police officer got out to assess the situation, standard policy in that city when an ambulance is requested. Finding that the call to 911 was genuine, he radioed for an ambulance and the Crime Scene Investigation team. He then questioned Travis, demanding his name, address, relation to the victim, reason for being in the area, and the reason he had stopped. The officer's hostile manner suggested to Travis that for some police everyone is either a criminal or likely a criminal.
Next, the victim was questioned. When he was asked whether anything was gone other than his wallet, he looked bewildered. "I don't know." The policeman asked his name. The man's face now showed panic. "I don't know."
At that point, paramedics arrived. They checked vital signs and took the handkerchief away to examine the wound. Travis was about to say that the handkerchief was his, when one of the paramedics dumped it unceremoniously into a plastic bag marked 'Medical Waste'.
Travis would have no handkerchief with him that day - not that he would have used the bloody one anyway. He was distraught; he had never been out without a handkerchief. He did not feel fully dressed. He would have to buy one on his way to work, which would make him even later.
They lifted the man onto a gurney. As he was being wheeled toward the ambulance he spotted Travis walking away. "Would you come with me?" he asked.
Travis bristled at the request! He had inconvenienced himself considerably for this man; he had even waited for the ambulance. And he had given up his handkerchief. He had done more than enough. "I'm sorry, I have to get to work. I'm already late."
"Please" the man whimpered. "You're the only one I know."
This was beyond unreasonable! It was absurd! The only one he knew? He didn't know Travis.
But on further consideration, right now Travis
was
in a sense the one person he knew. And the poor guy looked so frightened. For the second time that morning, Travis fought past his urge to avoid involvement, and said: "Ok."
The paramedics would not permit him to ride in the ambulance because he wasn't an immediate relative. He asked them what hospital they were going to, told the man he would meet him there, and after the ambulance left he phoned in to say that an emergency was delaying him and he would be occupied for another hour or two. Then he flagged down a taxi.
When he reached the hospital, the clerk at the Information Desk told him that the mugging victim was being examined and Travis would have to wait in the reception area.
Sitting in one of the hard plastic chairs, he was nervous. 'I suppose' he thought to himself, 'this is what's called getting out of your comfort zone'.
It was almost an hour before a doctor came out and consulted the reception clerk, who indicated Travis. The doctor came over and asked whether he was a friend or a relative. He said he didn't know the man, and explained why he was there.
"Then we have a problem" the doctor said, "because the patient has no idea who he is, and he was brought in with no personal effects except a wristwatch. He has a slightly depressed skull fracture, suggesting that he received at least one forceful blow to the head. That type of injury rarely causes an extended retrograde amnesia but it has apparently happened in this case. I'm admitting him for observation so that we can determine whether the depressed bone is impinging on the brain. We'll also take an EEG and perform other tests."
"Can I see him? I told him I'd meet him here."
"No, he's in MRI right now and he'll be undergoing tests for the next twenty four hours. He probably won't be permitted visitors before tomorrow afternoon."
Travis didn't like breaking his word. "Please tell him that I tried to see him. Tell him I'll come back tomorrow evening."
***********
After work the next day, Travis went to the hospital. It made him uneasy not to be going directly home to watch the TV news and read the paper, but he had made a promise.
