Human meandered aimlessly along the street. It was a dark day. Thunderclouds loomed menacingly overhead and the air was cold and damp. He was lost. The empty street seemed to stretch on forever.
He shivered as a gust of wind hit him and he pulled his jumper tighter around himself. The dingy street lights flickered on and off as they spilled their dim orange light across the road, giving the place an eerie, supernatural feel.
Suddenly the silence was broken by the sound of footsteps. Human turned and stared at the old man who hobbled slowly towards him, bent double over his walking stick.
“What’s your name, young lad?” asked the man, his breath visible in the icy air, “No, let me guess,” he pausing for a moment, “Human, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” the boy replied, wondering how the man knew. He supposed many strange things happened along this street – why shouldn’t the people be just as strange?
“And what’s your name?” Human asked.
“Integrity,” answered the man.
“Well g’day then,” Human said as he started to wander down the street.
“Wait!” Integrity commanded, “Further down the street there is a fight going on, a man is being attacked, you must tell someone!”
Human was surprised by this strange outburst and blinked to make sure he had not imagined it. Integrity disappeared. He looked in confusion for a minute at the spot where man had just been, then shrugged and walked further down the street.
*
He reached the police station and opened the plain door that guarded the entrance. The station was a small affair, a two-room, single-storey building. The front room was decorated by a poster depicting a sorry looking criminal clinging onto his prison cell bars forlornly while the bold headline urged the viewer to ‘STAMP OUT CRIME!’
Apart from that the room was devoid of any furnishing apart from a pair of metal chairs for visitors and an ancient desk that creaked under a pile of important looking papers. A strip light ran across the length of the ceiling, illuminating the few features that dotted the Spartan room in an artificial yellow light.
“What d’ you want, sonny?” asked the plump officer who was sitting at the desk
“There’s a fight,” answered Human.
“There ain’t no fights in my patch, lad,” the police man informed him, “now run along, I’ve got stuff to do.”
Human looked at the packet of biscuits and mug of coffee that the police man was holding in his arms and wondered if that was what he meant by ‘stuff to do’.
“But there is! A man told me fetch help!”
“Go away boy,” the officer told him firmly, “there is NO fight.”
With that he shoved Human out of the door.
Once he was sure that the boy was gone he smiled to himself and brought out the sack of coins hidden under the desk that had bought his silence. It made a contenting jangling noise as he held it in his hands – what would he spend it on?
*
Human meandered aimlessly along the street. He wondered what he should do.
The sound of people talking interrupted his thoughts.
“…seems you’re doing a good job, Mayor.”
“Thank you, I try my best!”
Human recognised the mayor walking along the street with another man. He strode over – this was his chance to sort the fight out.
“Um… Sir!” Human started, not sure how to address the Mayor, “I was wondering if I could talk?”
“Of course!” beamed the Mayor; Human guessed he was trying to impress the other man.
The Mayor leaned forward and whispered in his ear in a sharp tone, “Now is not a good time.”
“But there’s a fight going on down the street and the police won’t help.”
“Ha ha! Such a good sense of humour!” laughed the Mayor grinning at the other man. He turned to face Human, the smile wiped off his face, “Now run along, young lad.”
“But…”
“I said run along,” the Mayor said more severely, gritting his teeth.
Human walked away, knowing he could do little else. He could see the Mayor turn around and smile at the other man, and he could hear him saying “the boy is just joking of course…”
*
Human meandered aimlessly along the street. He walked towards his house. The front gate made a creaking noise as he opened it and stepped into his overgrown garden.
He carefully picked his way through the weeds until he reached the door. He swung it open and strode in.
“Mum!” he called out loudly up the stairs.
A face looked down at him from the upstairs, “Yes, what is it dear?”
“There’s a fight going on down the street – what should I do?”
“Have you been to the Police?” she asked in her enquiring way.
“Yes, but they told me it was nothing…”
Human’s mum thought, should she try and sort it out?
No, it was too much effort.
“Well, if the police don’t think anything’s up, then it isn’t. Don’t worry about something that isn’t your business.”
Maybe his mum was right, thought Human, maybe he was worrying about nothing. In fact, he couldn’t even remember the name of the man he had talked to.
He looked out of the window as the rain began to pour down; drops of water hit the window pane. The old man must have just been in his imagination.
*
Integrity collapsed to the ground, blood covered his face and filled his mouth. Dishonesty stood above him, leering.
“And you really thought that Humans had more Integrity than Dishonesty?” he laughed.
Dishonesty kicked Integrity in the chest and watched as he cried out in pain and curled up in a ball.
“I’ve won this fight!” Dishonesty shouted at the empty street, “Humans have forgotten Integrity!”
The rain began to pour down; drops of water hit the body that was sprawled out in front of him.
Dishonesty walked away, leaving Integrity lying face-down on the ground.
*
As the lightning began to flash and the thunder crash, Dishonesty meandered aimlessly into the night.
All that was left was an outline of a whisper of a shadow, illuminated by the dingy street lights. The empty street seemed to stretch on forever.