Episode 3

Getting to a rundown street under the clear blue sky, the scowling Syntia burst through the front door of a ramshackle multi-storey building. Ignoring the greetings of other tenants smoking and going out with their daily lives, Syntia jogged up the railingless staircase, furiously rolling up her knitted sweater.

"I don't just get it. Why on earth would these ugly old men go after young girls their granddaughter's age? Why?" She shoved her hand into her leather purse- its rough surface peeling off like the walls of the building. "How many fucking jobs now? Gosh! I'm so pissed right now to the point of running back there to chop off his little dick and shove it up his craggy mouth! Motherfucker!"

As though growing impatient, fishing for something as she stood in front of a frail wooden door, Syntia kicked the door hard, it rattled a bit then went still. She uprooted a bunch of rusty keys from her purse, then inserted a key into the lock. With a shaggy click, the door swung open.

"Where on earth am I gonna get another job?" She flopped face down on a messy bed.

A calm beam squeezed its way through a thin crack in the window, casting a soft glow in the cluttered small room. Syntia tossed on the littered bed pressed to the wall, her blood gushing wildly through her veins with each creak of the springs under the small bed frame.

Rubbing her face lifelessly as though she was carrying the weight of the world on her head, Syntia heaved a deep sigh. "There's no time to pick grains from the heap of sand, Syntia… you have bills stacked up to the roof… to settle..." Her shaky voice crawled on her bare skin and sunk into her aching heart, melting it bit by bit.

Shuffling into an adjacent darkened space, Syntia paused, her open palms met her face as that sharp headache struck her hard.

"This is– this is way too much for me. Just how… how do I get past such bad luck following me like… especially with those hungry wolves lurking around?" Slowly sinking to the floor, her head shifted from side to side. "I might as well find myself in the jungle soon- at least there'd be free supplies, right?" She felt her throat closing up, as tears streamed down her face, crying her heart out in anguish.

******

"Kelvin, please listen to me for once in your life!"

"I will not have you refresh a dead memory, Hanord! So shut the hell up and let it die there!"

As the hospital staff and patients drooled at the handsomeness of both men filling their longing hearts, Hanord tried to catch up with the scowling Kelvin marching down the doctor's area as if crushing on rocks. He studied Kelvin's dark aura seeping through his flared nostrils .

"We both know it isn't, Kelvin." He swallowed, glancing at Kelvin's face. "We–"

Kelvin slowed down, he turned his head sharply towards Hanord. "Digging up things like that will not be tolerated! Oh, because I said I wanted to try out some nice tits from the slum? Is that the reason for this shit, Hanord?!"

"You should have seen that young woman, Kelvin. Believe me, she…"

Kelvin pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just shut up and get back to the office. Just go."

"Kelvin…"

"Enough, Hanord!"

As if struck by lightning, Hanord stumbled backward, he turned on his heels and dashed out. Onlookers huddled together, trying to stay steady as if they were standing on a sinking ground.

Later still, Kelvin's heart tumbled like laundry in a washing machine as his squinted eyes fixed on a doctor's face.

"What did you just say, Doctor Smith? Did I–" His blood shot eyes glistened.

Wringing his hands, Smith shifted his weight, looking at every other spot but refused to get burnt in the fiery pit in Kelvin's eyes. "We are so sorry, Mr. Blakes. We… we will try our best to make sure little King gets better." His low voice tumbled out through his trembling lip. "We removed fluids to help with his breathing. He's fine now, but without the dialysis, I'm afraid it–"

"Shut up, Smith!"

"Please we need to continue with the dialysis to help–"

"Will you shut that fucking hole in that hell of a face!"

The doctors cowering by the door, as Smith jumped at the sharp bang of Kelvin's voice, hitting the walls. Sweat beads rolled down their pale faces.

"I told you to get my boy a kidney befitting his status. Without stains. My son is tired of you sticking that shit in him!"

"It's for the–"

"Everyone out! Out, you worthless piece of fresh shit!"

The doctors in white lab coats scurried out of doctor Smith's office, leaving Kelvin now standing beside King, the chubby curly haired boy who fainted at the preschool. Kelvin gazed at the little boy who struggled to crack his eyes open. He shut his eyes, then rubbed his face.

The shaky Smith cautiously watched King laying on an examination table, then shifted his gaze at Kelvin who looked exhausted.

"He is just a child, Doctor Smith. Why– just why would he get such a terrible thing at this age?"

One of the doctors in a plastic slip-on shoes stopped, just about to shut the door. Then crept back into the office.

"There is still much hope, Mr. Blakes. Please be strong for him, he needs all the love and care more than before." She glanced at Smith who held her unsettled gaze.

Kelvin grabbed a fistful of his hair. "Fuck!" This is so wrong. So, so fucking wrong! He's just too little to pass through such pain."

"Daddy?" The tiny voice weakly crawled out.

"Yes, Daddy's here." He caressed King's cheek. "You good, boy?"