Not tried any creative writing since school, but felt a compulsion to have a crack now as I near my 50th year. Any and all feedback is welcome for what I've put together so far.
The Porter
A short ghost story by Joseph Brown
Part 1
Jacob took a long pull on his cigarette, grimacing at the sensation filling his mouth and lungs, a sensation he had come to loath over the years as pleasure inevitably gave way to addiction. ‘Why do I keep doing this crap?’ he grimly thought to himself, giving a sigh of wry frustration as he exhaled a plume of smoke. Looking up and across the street Jacob watched as the last lights of the dormitory to the ladies college flickered out. “Night, ladies” he said out loud as a way to break the quiet of the evening and his own reverie rather than as a salutation to the sleeping occupants.
“Talking to yourself again, mate?” came a familiar voice from behind him.
Turning, Jacob smiled at his colleague “Considering the lack of intellectual discourse to be found in the lodge what little choice does one have, Mike?
Mike laughed his loud, grating laugh, understanding this was just the usual banter between the two friends. Putting a lighter to his own cigarette, he snorted his derision “Knob head”.
Mike had been a hospital porter a few more years than Jacob and as such was the night shift coordinator; a position arguably given through time served rather than an actual ability to govern with considered authority. Nevertheless, Mike served the role well enough and had garnered the respect of his fellow porters. Mike’s brusque, often crude manner, was something Jacob would rarely find agreeable in a person, however his dry wit and ability to give as ‘good as he got’ had won him over. In time he had grown quite fond of the man in spite of himself.
“Have you seen James?” Mike enquired, his voice taking on a more serious tone.
Looking downward as he rubbed out his now finished cigarette with the toe of his shoe, Jacob asked “He’s on lock-ups tonight, is he not?”
“He is” Mike said, gruffly blowing smoke into the night air “But we can’t get hold of him on the radio and it’s been over an hour since he left the lodge with the hospital keys”
Taking his mobile phone out of his trouser pocket and springing it into life, Jacob took stock of the time. 11:20pm. The locking up of the hospital each night always began at around 10:00pm and usually took around 25 minutes to complete, 40 minutes at the very most.
“Maybe he’s in the loo?” Jacob reasoned with a shrug.
“For almost a strawberry floating hour!” Mike exclaimed, throwing his arms into the air to emphasize his annoyance at Jacob’s indifference. “It’s not like he scoffed down a vindaloo for his tea break!”
Sighing Jacob placed his hands in his pockets and looking wearily at Mike asked “Alright mate, when did you last speak to him over the radio?”
Taking another pull on his cigarette, casting his eyes in the direction of the looming form of the hospital behind them, Mike answered “About 10:35, give or take, near or most likely in East Wing”.
Having already anticipated what was about to come next Jacob began to casually stroll across the car park in the direction of the hospital’s rear main entrance.
“I’ll check it out” he said, a hint of exasperation in his voice.
Being a much older part of the vast hospital, East Wing was located at the other end of the site. With most of the main doors now likely locked, and with James having the only keys, it would mean no short cuts would be available to Jacob, which meant a long, tedious walk. This was a headache he felt could do without and as such he made a mental note to himself to suitably berate James once he found out where he’d disappeared to. That being said James rarely, if ever, skimped on his duties so even Jacob had to admit that this sudden change of behaviour from his normally ‘exemplary’ colleague was indeed a little odd.
“Thanks, mate!” Jacob heard his supervisor shout out from behind him as he reached the entrance and tapped in the security code that would open the automatic doors. With a backward wave of acknowledgement Jacob stepped through the doors as they drew slowly open and made his way into the building to search for his colleague.
“It’s definitely going to be one of those nights” Jacob muttered to himself, already feeling the urge to light up another cigarette.
Some fifteen minutes or so had passed as he made his way down the long hallway found at the front of the hospital. Whether on his own or with a patient Jacob always marvelled at the incredible architecture on display when moving through this area, ‘They don’t make ‘em like this any more” was a common response from those patients who would indulge Jacob’s happy chit-chat regarding the history of his place of work. The high, arching ceiling was an intricate display of twisting vines and elegant flowers delicately carved into alabaster stone that spanned the length of the entire corridor. Every 30ft or so, and following the corridor across its length on either side, were a series of highly polished, jade green marble pillars that reached up to greet the immaculate ceiling above. On the front facing wall of the hallway large rectangular windows looked out across the Hospital’s main car park and onto the college playing fields across the road. On more pleasant days these large windows with their worn, ageing frames, allowed the sun to reach in and warm the polished tiles that made up the floor itself. Tonight, however, only a starless night of ominous grey clouds could be seen shifting slowly across the night sky. Jacob felt an unfamiliar unease as he made his way toward the eastern part of the site, a feeling that became more profound as he moved further down the grandiose old structure.
Reaching the reception area Jacob walked up to the fading, thick oak doors of the main entry point to the hospital and rattled the handle to the door. Satisfied it was locked he continued down the hallway, passing the small hospital chapel on his left and the bereavement office on his right. Just as he came to the narrow stairwell that would lead him downward into East Wing his radio crackled into life followed by the familiar sound of his supervisor’s voice.
“Any sign of James yet, mate?” Mike enquired, his voice sounding almost robotic through the speaker of his radio.
“No, not yet” Jacob replied “I’ve just reached the stairwell and am heading downstairs now”.
“Okay, mate. Keep me updated” Mike responded, the familiar click of the radio receiver being released signifying the end of the conversation for the time being.
With a sigh Jacob made his way down the two flights of twisting, narrow stairs and stepped out into the small foyer below the hallway above him. Turning to his left he moved up to the entrance just a few feet away from the base of the stairwell and tapped in the security code. With a grunt he pushed open the heavy doors and stepped into the corridor of the hospital’s East Wing.
