On My Knees

Daniel came over for dinner. We were in the same house share before I moved to Stratford. We met at the tube station. I wanted to show him my new place. We bought groceries and beer and then made our way to my place, over the foot bridge that crosses one of the many railways near here. It was raining all the while and we had to hurry while laden with the plastic bags of shopping.

As usual, diced chicken, onions, spring onion, zukini and rice (we have perfected how to cook rice that is not soggy). Daniel loves to put Soy sauce over the rice (he calls it Japanese sauce strangely). Oh how we laugh when we are together. Everything is funny. We make a joke about everything. We introduce subjects, just because we know we can make a joke about it. We have running gags too. About how the Jubilee underground line is never late and close to godliness. About how Stratford is “totally different” to Canada Waters (where we used to live). We say “totally different” in every second sentence now. I showed him my new room and how big it is. I some times wonder if laugh with him so much to compensate for the times when I am down. This morning was one such time. We watched flash animation videos from the internet on my slow computer. I escorted Daniel back to the tube station in the rain.

My coat jacket was buttoned up and my hands were stuffed into my pockets as I dashed through the rain back home. I hopped over puddles and made haste for the flat. I went over the foot bridge again and through the grassy recreation area where I saw three young hooded men also walking in the rain. They started towards me but, I took little notice in the rain and I was anxious to get home and be dry.

One of them grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and demanded “Give me your money.” His skin was smooth and a dark brown under his hood. He had a straight nose and thin lips. His accent had no ethnic slant. He shouted with the rage and eloquence of the black London youth. Before I could think what to do, I was on my hands and knees. The blows to my face were swift and I did not know if I was receiving kicks or punches. I could not believe it, I was being mugged. I tried to resist but they kept on hitting me.

I wanted to run away or push them but I could see it was hopeless. I was in a panic as they pushed and hit me. I scrambled to my feet and was hit again in the face. I was trying to say “I will give you the money” but their blows would not let me. I did manage to say it, shifting on my feet to get some space between me and them and they stopped. I pulled out my wallet and threw it to the ground. “And your phone” he demanded. I was so frightened I did not hesitate to reach for it. “I left it in the house” I pleaded, not finding it in my pocket. But the phone was actually in my breast pocket

As soon as they picked up the wallet they took off. I chased after them. I could not yet feel the pain in my face. I was shouting “give me back my fucking wallet. Take the cash, please, just give me back the wallet.” Over and over I yelled as I chased them down an alley onto a street. They hoped into a dark small car that seemed to be waiting for them and sped off. They did not leave my wallet. However, I did get a good look at the number plate as I chased after the car. “L 256 RMG” I chanted in my head as I ran back to the tube station to look for the police.

In the hospital there was a long wait. I thought about the shame of being made to kneel in front of three men 10 years my junior outside my own home. The disgrace of begging for my own property. I was quickly seen by a nurse who suggested I get my head looked at in the Accident and Emergency (“A and E” she said like I ought to know). However, it had been a busy night and the GP’s were busy with “resuscitations”. I waited from 11pm until 4:30 am. The police inspectors (Matt Russell and Paul) arrived just before the GP could see me. After hours of sitting and dozing in the waiting room, I was suddenly at the center of two GP’s and two Inspectors attention, asking me mostly the same questions. It was such a joy to be touched though, as the GP gave a broad check up. To feel the gentle touch of another human beings fingers on my face. Not the first fingers on my face that night though. Just the gentle physical contact was soothing. They took an x-ray too. No bones were broken, but one side of my face is double the size of the other and I have a black eye

The police caught three suspects within an hour of my assault, with the help of the number plate I gave them. The inspectors took a detailed statement from me in the hospital.

I could not see out the Ambulance when it took me, so I did not know how to get home or know how far it was. I had to beg the bus driver to trust my 1 week travel ticket receipt, since my wallet was gone. It was still raining when I got home, as it was when I was assaulted 8 hours before.