Mostly Hero by Anna Burns

Author:Anna Burns
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: eBookPartnership.com
Published: 2014-12-07T16:00:00+00:00

Finally all corpses were taken out. Then all dead bodies were taken out. Then all wounded were taken out. Then Boris the Super Grand Total was taken out with his IOU taken off him. Then femme, she was led out as well. This was to waiting ambulances, to stationwagons and to various police vehicles, the last quarter of officers remaining in the building to sift through Great Aunt’s belongings before they too, left, after confiscating all that ballroom dancing equipment downstairs. The others, meantime, set off for the hospital, for the police station and for the town mortuary and, six hours later, ‘Okay then, shall we go?’ femme approached hero in his hospital bed and said. She was speaking to him after he’d regained consciousness, which was after she’d accompanied him to the hospital, after she’d waited at the hospital for him to have his bullet out, after she’d gone to fetch his car and a change of clothes to bring him home because she knew that once he came to, he’d kick up a fuss about not wanting to be there. So she’d be there, with vehicle, the very moment he came awake.

When he did come awake, she hadn’t quite made it and, horrified, hero found himself not in his own territory but in the territory of a love-obsessed group of hospital staff, all of whom were gazing down upon him longingly from around his hospital bed. Intuiting an onrush of marriage proposals - for this had happened before - hero thanked the staff quickly for the bullet out and everything, adding he could now take over. This had all staff bursting into tears. They had hoped, prayed, begged God, that hero would be so ill, so gravely on the point of dying, he’d have to stay at least overnight - maybe two nights - maybe a few nights. Was that really so very much to ask? So especial was their concern that while he’d been in surgery, already they’d drawn lots to see which of them would be first to administer him his medicine but hero was adamant, reiterating he was fine, that his was a minor gunshot wound, a wound which no doubt, owing to his rapid-mending superheroic status, was well on the way to recovery. So he was leaving. Again all staff burst into tears. This was how femme found them - sexually, romantically and socially rejected - with hero at their centre, relieved to see her and announcing firmly they were to go. ‘Okay then, shall we go?’ she said, and she turned to thank the staff who didn’t care for her thanks because they hated her. This startled her, but there was nothing for it so she turned from them and helped hero, first out of the hospital, then to the carpark and his car. Here they had their own squabble because he said he was driving and she said he was unconscious so of course he wasn’t driving and he said it was

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