The Discipline And The Disobedience

Suddenly, I begin to wonder how I find myself in spots like these...

Three hours ago, I was sitting on the couch at home, between a snoring basset hound, and a german shepard transfixed on a moth that got let in from outside. My brother had just come home from work and we talked about his day, he peirced some guy's nipples today, and the client nearly passed out. I offered him some leftovers from our favorite Vietnamese restaurant, still hot in the styrofoam box. He picked a few pieces of tofu up with his hands and ate them while we talked. He seemed excited about something, there was a curious happiness in his voice.
This was not unlike any other night in our house, and yet completely different in every aspect.
My brother and I talked some more, about various things. Then he said something about needing to run a quick errand. What he really meant was "we" need to run a quick errand, and I sensed something mischevious was in the making. I jokingly asked if I needed to bring gloves, or a ski mask. He said that the ski mask would be unnecessary. I must have laughed a little out of sudden nervousness, because he glared at me with all seriousness.
My brother and I have been through a lot together. I have never once questioned his judgement or intensions. He is very intelligent and responsible, and thus, I knew he was not endangering me in any way. But I was still nervous.
I didn't ask any more questions until we got in the car. What errands could you have to run at eleven o' clock at night? The kind that can't be done during the day.
We were driving into a part of town that I had never spent much time in, though not far from our house it was one of those parts of Memphis you only go to if you need drugs, a used car, a cheap motel, or in our case, an abandoned hospital.
As we pulled up to the front gates, lashed together crudely with a heavy gage chain, I knew that it was going to be an interesting night. There was a temporary construction fence surrounding the grounds of the hospital, meaning two things; the city was finally doing something with the property that had stood vacant for the last decade, and that we were going to have to be that much more careful. With all of that construction equipment lying around overnight, it's not unlikely that there would be a patrol car coming by to check on things.
Getting out of the car, I remember smelling the stale, damp air of a basement. The hospital loomed about seventy five yards from us, looking like some enormous gargoyle in the still summer night. The grounds were scattered with cranes and backhoes, piles of dirt and mortar. I followed closely behind my brother as we approached the hospital from the eastern side. The construction efforts had come to a halt when funding for the renovation had come up short, so the building was left nearly intact, just some exterior damage. Almost all of the windows and doors had been removed from the entire structure, making it easy for us to enter. Stale air was invading my nostrils completely now, and as we found ourselves in the first floor lobby, the humidity nearly pushed me over.
There was so much to see, and this was to be the first of many nights spent in the hospital. We silently made our way through the left and right wings, routinely checking each room for vagrants, relics, and artifacts of this urban archeological site. It might as well have been the Egyptian Pyramids to us.
Three floors up, on a balcony overlooking the courtyard, we spot a police car coming through the front gates with the spot light on. Though we were not in any real danger, instinctively we duck behind the balcony wall, and wait for car to make its rounds.
Suddenly, I begin to wonder how I find myself in spots like these. Here I am, three floors up, in an abandoned hospital in one of the worst parts of town with my brother, but I'm calm.
It's difficult to say why I'm here, or why I'll come back. It's more than curiosity, more than adrenaline. It's more than thrill-seeking, or petty lawbreaking. It's all of these things, and yet, it's not one in particular. It is a total contradiction to who I am in the daylight, and maybe therein lies the real attraction...