With his head resting on the table, Ken suddenly realized he was alone in the empty room, surrounded by an unusual quietness.

"Where did everyone go in just a couple of minutes? No, wait, was it just one minute? Or two? Or three? Haha, I know them all. They think they have evaded the payment for beers." Ken's voice echoed through the stillness.

It was common for the drinkers to avoid paying for their drinks. Whenever they were together, they would come up with various strategies. "I will go and sweet-talk her, while some of you act aggressively as if arguing. Before she realizes it, those who don't have money will be gone. Sounds good?" Ken was the mastermind behind the plan.

The bar attendant would keep track of those who returned on another day and charge them double for every bottle of the drink. Some customers with heart, mind, and mouth already in, even if denied access to the bar, would insist on paying any additional amount suggested by the bar attendant so they could still enjoy their drink and charge their brains like solar batteries.

The bar attendant would tally up the debts from anonymous customers for the previous day and transfer them to such drinkers. Many would pay happily and without complaints with reasons of supporting friends, yet at home, they left no money to buy food. A child's merely asking dad for a sweet would get them out to the compound through the air with tears flowing down their eyes and mouths singing 'Mom, mom, mom...' as dad feels their legs attain more flexibility.

The evening before when Ken arrived at the bar, right after his shift at Lagoro Health Center IV where he worked as a nurse, he found all the drinks on the drinking table paid for earlier in the day by a man who had organized a celebration for his fiancee's birthday at the bar. The day, however, took a turn when the woman's ex-husband forcibly took her away. 

Ken was at the table with great friends. He was in good spirits and meant business, one drink leading to another within very few minutes. He became too intoxicated to even keep his balance. He ended up resting his head on the table and got a bit rowdy, roaring like a lion at anyone who dared to wake him up. Eventually, the sober ones slipped away, leaving him to his own devices.

As Jane, the bar attendant, made her way to the room to clean and arrange it, she overheard Ken and stopped immediately, straining to catch his words. She wondered what Ken could have been doing in the room till that late. However, the silence in the room remained unbroken. Ken had sensed the presence of a person. So, he quickly got to his feet and gazed out the window.

She shortly dashed into the room. "Stop that nonsense! You refused to pay for one of our guestrooms, thinking this is not accommodation. Withdraw those words and pull out money!"

 Ken dropped to his knees, hands overhead and eyes locked on Jane.

"Please forgive me! I had nodded off. I didn't mean to stay so long... I mean, all night," he begged, realizing it was already morning.

The rule for drinking at the bar was that whoever felt he or she couldn't return to their home would have to pay 10 USD for one guest room and spend the night there. Those who wouldn't comply and spend their nights at the drinking hall would still be charged the same amount.

Since Ken was a loyal all-time customer, Jane empathized with him. She then quietly took Ken's hand and helped him stand up. She whispered to him, "Quickly leave before my boss finds you!"

Ken felt his heart race as he caught sight of Jane's boss standing in the doorway. All he had on him was 4 USD, and the man looked intimidating. Without any cash, the man might confiscate his phone. Indeed, it was a great imagination. What would Ken do if the boss found him at the entrance?

Ken limped as he swayed out of the room swiftly. When he entered the compound, he paused, letting out a deep sigh as he cast a longing glance over his shoulder. He was removing the phone and money he had tied to his thigh with his necktie before he began drinking.

He quickly glanced at his phone and realized it was a few minutes to 8 am. With a sense of purpose, he made his way to a discreet spot to freshen up so he would return to the facility without reaching home.

Shortly, Ken appeared again, and as he strolled away, Jane emerged from the room, looking at him with a knowing smile at his transformed walking style.

Wearing a black suit that shone with gold and a dirty white tie that dangled lopsidedly to the right of the shirt, that morning, Ken arrived at the health centre thirty minutes before 9 am. His eyes were red, and his hair was a mess. It was clear that he was somewhat drunk. His appearance had given him even more terrible looks as if he had just skipped his early twenties the day before. 

Ken was a tall, slender man with a light complexion and a round face. He was known for his long earlobes, which appeared slightly reversed, and gained him a nickname "the village rabbit." Ken was crazy about the name! Every time someone called him by that name, he would proudly proclaim himself as "the wisest animal on earth" followed by a thunderous horse laugh. He boasted that he was the most exceptional person in their neighbourhood.

As Ken walked down the hallway to the clinical room, patients and staff alike couldn't help but stare at his dishevelled appearance. Some murmured to each other, and although their whispers were unclear, they seemed to be commenting on Ken's state of mind.

Unfortunately, as he passed by one male patient, he overheard him muttering, "Is that nurse mentally ill?" The patient's voice was much louder than he had intended, and everyone in the hallway heard his comment.

"Who is that speaking rubbish here?" Ken veered and bellowed at the patients. Everyone was quiet, pretending not to have known the person who whispered. Okii, a well-known stubborn man among patients, emerged and shouted ferociously from the corner while trembling uncontrollably with his eyes fixed on Ken.

"What rubbish do you talk of?" 

Immediately his neighbor placed a palm on his mouth and whispered, "Please calm down, you will need help from him!"

"Remove your smutty hand from my mouth! Do you want to transmit your disease to me?" He roared and pushed the hand away from his mouth without delay. At this time, all the patients were looking at Okii. Ken too was staring angrily at him as he stood by the doorway.

"Even if you fix your piercing knifelike eyes at me and my clothes tear, I shall not change. Surely, which help will I need from him? I am no longer sick!" Okii uttered while nodding in disbelief as he wore his black spectacles which he had been holding in his hand for so long.

A peal of laughter struck the hallway and the loud noise made by the patients lingered through the air in all directions at the facility. Just after elapse of a minute, patients were rushing in from almost all directions and flooding the hallway to find out what was transpiring. 

"You morons, what do you want from here?" Ken rolled his eyes and snorted to intimidate the patients while pointing a finger at them. Many people became palled not by his shout, but by his shivery eyes and so they dashed out into the compound quickly and without hesitation. What if they were not to run away?

Okii remained standing aimlessly together with a few remaining patients while staring at Ken, and out of the blue, the latter shamefacedly turned and entered the room. His movement was triggered by the incessant tearing rage of the patients who were unwilling to leave. Then Okii turned to the patients who were still seated and asked, "What are you people waiting for?"

No one responded. Instead, they just continued looking silently at him, and his irritation increased beyond his breaking point.

"Now just looking at me with your two… two eyes, pretending not to hear my question and when your children are injected with alcohol, you rush to me grumbling as if I am the one who did it. Hopeless!" He shouted so loudly as if he was addressing a very large audience.

Ken was hearing his speech from the clinical room and enduring a lot of infuriating that the speech aroused in him. He constantly jerked from the seat where he sat to move and savage the man, but because he thought that would bring a disgrace to him, he stayed put dolefully. Soon, the patients murmured as Okii hurried out of the place.

As soon as he stepped out into the compound, a terrible discussion resulted in the hallway with deep voices of men and soft voices of ladies mixed into a loud so-so noise. The loud noise linked with the mischievous behavior of some patients who constantly knocked on the door, could not keep Ken in the clinical room.

He moved out quickly and warned them, "Whoever continues making noise here will be slapped like this!" He slapped the wall badly, inflicting a very sharp pain in his hand that he could not expose to the patients. For his convenience, he returned to the clinical room with his hand paining uncontrollably. He raised it above the table as he grieved in regret of why he slapped the wall. Indeed, the wall was rough and he must have felt the pain distribute uniformly in his hand. Pain was the best fruit he could reap from the temperament he sowed. 

"I must have been stupid to slap the wall," he whispered and glanced at the window to see if someone could have been peeping at him and could have possibly heard him. Then he leaned slowly to his seat.

On the other hand, in the compound, there was another grave situation, with many people disconcerted by Okii's naughty behaviour.

"What went wrong in the hallway to clinical room 2?" A patient asked when his arrival coincided with the mass exit of people from the hallway.

"The nurse is bewildered. I mean Ken is …" A fellow patient was replying, but paused on realizing that another nurse, Mike was zipping by as he headed to the same clinical room where Ken was resting. Everyone just turned and waved their hands to Mike as he moved past. It was already 10:00 am, and it was his usual time of reporting at the facility.

When Mike was already in the clinical room he resumed, "I mean Ken is a drunk spirit in the body. You will not believe me, but get the time and see how he looks. He appears as though he was collected from the garden to come and treat patients."

"Surely? Not from the bar?" Another patient disagreed.

"No, I think the second place that you talk of may be true!" The man whose question was antecedent responded immediately.

"Yes, that must be right!" Everyone uttered their belief at once.

"Then he must be in his usual state, 'drunk'. Don't you think even the other man who charged like a lion is drunk too? I-I think…" A lady asked and her eyes met the intimidating eyes of Okii, the man whom she was talking about. Her mouth became stuck open for a while as he looked straight into her eyes without blinking.

"You think… you think… What?" Okii paraphrased straightaway out of vexation. 

The lady could not reply, she was overwhelmed with fear as his presence shocked her. Before speaking, she had looked around and didn't see him. How did he arrive there? The man was lingering in the compound, trying to listen to whatever every group of patients was discussing.

"Listen!" He called out for the attention of everyone in the small gathering, "If you are a patient and yet impatient at this hospital of patience, then why are you here?"

Everyone was amazed, triggering thunderous laughter. Others sneered their contempt and a man who knew Okii very well with his stubbornness said loudly, "Okii, so you have started your game on us! Well, we are firm and hopeful that nothing will still digress from the right." 

"Yeah," he responded, "We are hopeful!"

 It was already midday. Immediately, a marching sound originated from the hallway and all the people rushed back. Interestingly, Okii was again at the forefront, walking majestically and cracking gags that raised amusement in the hearts of those who followed him. The other people who were strolling in the compound came running after them. As soon as they reached the hallway, Mike exited clinical room 2 and entered clinical room 1. 

Okii moved directly to a bench before clinical room 1 and a brilliant, light-haired school-age young girl smartly dressed in a blue dress that resembled a school uniform came and sat next to him. Her name was Rita.

Later on, other patients who were initially sitting in front of clinical room 2 all shifted and tugged for so long to occupy the remaining space available in front of clinical room 1. The pressure became so high that the young girl could no longer withstand it for long. She decided to cede the struggle and transfer to a bench before clinical room 1. She sat lonely. Though overwhelmed with fear of being examined by Ken, she felt it was a do-or-die.