‹ Prequel: Going Bush
Going Bush 2: Suburbia
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“What can I do to prove to you that I will not try anything?” Taylor asked, at this point desperate just to get some sleep, “if you’ve ordered me to stay, then I need to stay.”
“I should at least bind your ankles,” Nate said thoughtfully.
“Then what happens if they need me to stand up?” Taylor pointed out.
Nate didn’t move, just remained staring at him in an unnerving manner.
“Look, I know this makes you uncomfortable,” Taylor tried to reason in a calming tone, “but it’s only temporary. In a couple of days we’ll leave and it’ll be as if this never happened. We can do whatever you want. But right now, I need this.”
“You’re very demanding all of a sudden,” Nate frowned.
“I know, and I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be,” Taylor apologised even though he wasn’t sure he should, “just… sit with me if you need to. They’re expecting me to be asleep, so no one should disturb us all night.”
Taylor reasoned that if Nate was in the room with him, the nurse had a better chance of escaping without him seeing her. If all went well he could be rescued by morning.
Nate stepped over to the chair and took a seat, his thumb still caressing the cable ties in his hand. Taylor’s eyes didn’t leave them, paranoid that if he looked away for a split second they’d be on him.
“How do you feel?” he jumped as Nate’s voice broke the silence.
“Better. A lot better,” Taylor reassured.
“Do you think you’ll be alright by tomorrow?”
“I don’t know,” Taylor frowned, “probably not if I don’t get some sleep.”
“So sleep,” Nate shrugged.
Taylor didn’t want to risk angering him by suggesting that he was the reason Taylor couldn’t sleep, so instead he gingerly lay himself down on the bed again – careful to keep the IV line out of the way.
“What about you?” he asked nervously.
“I’ll keep watch,” Nate responded.
“For what?” Taylor frowned as his eyes forcibly slid closed.
When Nate didn’t reply he opened them again, seeing Nate return the ties to his jacket pocket. Breathing slightly easier he turned onto his side toward Nate, keeping his left arm clear for the tube and folding his right arm over his stomach.
“Can I ask you something?” he squinted tiredly.
“What?” Nate grumbled, obviously not in the mood to humour him.
Taylor paused as he worked himself up to what he wanted to ask.
“This isn’t about Bernard, is it?” he asked finally in a timid voice, “originally, maybe… but not anymore.”
Nate just rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and put his head in his hand, watching him.
“It’s about me,” Taylor went on, “you just wanted me. Like an obsession or something. Am I right?”
“You think I’m obsessed with you?” Nate’s eyebrows rose in boredom.
“No I think you’re obsessed with an idea,” Taylor clarified, “and you’re trying your best to make it happen. You were watching us before we came to you, weren’t you?”
Nate paused, but nodded.
“How long?” Taylor asked, only his deep tiredness keeping him calm.
“Years,” Nate replied openly, “I even went to concerts. I did a Walk in Chicago, that was cool…”
Taylor closed his eyes at the revelation, not sure how to respond.
“I should at least bind your ankles,” Nate said thoughtfully.
“Then what happens if they need me to stand up?” Taylor pointed out.
Nate didn’t move, just remained staring at him in an unnerving manner.
“Look, I know this makes you uncomfortable,” Taylor tried to reason in a calming tone, “but it’s only temporary. In a couple of days we’ll leave and it’ll be as if this never happened. We can do whatever you want. But right now, I need this.”
“You’re very demanding all of a sudden,” Nate frowned.
“I know, and I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be,” Taylor apologised even though he wasn’t sure he should, “just… sit with me if you need to. They’re expecting me to be asleep, so no one should disturb us all night.”
Taylor reasoned that if Nate was in the room with him, the nurse had a better chance of escaping without him seeing her. If all went well he could be rescued by morning.
Nate stepped over to the chair and took a seat, his thumb still caressing the cable ties in his hand. Taylor’s eyes didn’t leave them, paranoid that if he looked away for a split second they’d be on him.
“How do you feel?” he jumped as Nate’s voice broke the silence.
“Better. A lot better,” Taylor reassured.
“Do you think you’ll be alright by tomorrow?”
“I don’t know,” Taylor frowned, “probably not if I don’t get some sleep.”
“So sleep,” Nate shrugged.
Taylor didn’t want to risk angering him by suggesting that he was the reason Taylor couldn’t sleep, so instead he gingerly lay himself down on the bed again – careful to keep the IV line out of the way.
“What about you?” he asked nervously.
“I’ll keep watch,” Nate responded.
“For what?” Taylor frowned as his eyes forcibly slid closed.
When Nate didn’t reply he opened them again, seeing Nate return the ties to his jacket pocket. Breathing slightly easier he turned onto his side toward Nate, keeping his left arm clear for the tube and folding his right arm over his stomach.
“Can I ask you something?” he squinted tiredly.
“What?” Nate grumbled, obviously not in the mood to humour him.
Taylor paused as he worked himself up to what he wanted to ask.
“This isn’t about Bernard, is it?” he asked finally in a timid voice, “originally, maybe… but not anymore.”
Nate just rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and put his head in his hand, watching him.
“It’s about me,” Taylor went on, “you just wanted me. Like an obsession or something. Am I right?”
“You think I’m obsessed with you?” Nate’s eyebrows rose in boredom.
“No I think you’re obsessed with an idea,” Taylor clarified, “and you’re trying your best to make it happen. You were watching us before we came to you, weren’t you?”
Nate paused, but nodded.
“How long?” Taylor asked, only his deep tiredness keeping him calm.
“Years,” Nate replied openly, “I even went to concerts. I did a Walk in Chicago, that was cool…”
Taylor closed his eyes at the revelation, not sure how to respond.