by Mike Stoner
‘Did she live on Lesby Avenue?’ Kim sniggers and rubs his eyes.
‘At the end,’ Joanne carries on, ‘the lights come on and this woman leans over and tells me I have the gift. I just laugh and say, “Well, if it’s the same as hers, I’m giving it back.” She then says that I really have the gift. That the woman on stage was a fraud. But with me, with me, she could feel the energy coming off me.’
John is smiling beside her, pride gushing from him. ‘So she hands me and my mate a card and tells us to call her. She’d like me to help at a séance.’
‘No way,’ Julie’s beer bottle is having its neck well and truly wrung.
‘Yep. Anyway my mate is really up for seeing my powers and I’m sort of curious in a cynical way, but sort of intrigued too, so we go.’
She pauses to sip her water while Hubby nods his head. ‘There’s only four other people there, all wanting to talk to their dead better halves, at which point I nearly go, but this bloody woman grabs me and asks me to please stay because I really do have a gift. So I sit and the next thing she’s talked me into being the host for a ghost.’
‘No way,’ whispers Julie. She’s caught.
I want to leave. My head is worse and my patience is wearing thin. The last thing I want is another dukun moment.
—So leave.
I laugh; short and sharp and loud. The others look at me.
‘Just got Kim’s Lesby joke.’ I wave my beer at him. ‘Very good, Kim.’
Kim raises his bottle at me.
I look at my knees
—Don’t tell me you’ve made an appearance because this woman says she’s a medium?
—Just thought it was time to annoy you, was all. Get you back for sleeping with little Miss Prozzy. And see how New You is getting on.
—New Me is fine. Having fun without you and the Ice-Cream Boy. It’s been a while. I’d forgotten you.
—Right. As if.
—Anyway, I’m listening to her story.
—But you think stuff like that is bollocks.
—True. I also think you chattering away in my head is bollocks too, so right now, she is the less bollocky of my options. So shush, I missed some of her story.
‘So I’m sat in this chair and she’s summoned the spirits and suddenly someone’s in me. I’ve gone cold and can’t feel my limbs and some bastard is trying to make my mouth move from within.’
‘Fuuuck.’ Kim is all blinking red eyes and open mouth.
‘I hated it, so I took control and shouted, “No. Get out.”’
‘And?’ Julie sucks the last dregs of life from her bottle.
‘And whoever it was left and I ran from that place and never tried it again since.’
‘Bullshit.’ Jussy has swivelled around to join the table.
‘It is not. Joanne has a gift. She senses things, don’t you, Joanne.’ Little hubby is rubbing wife’s back.
‘I can. All sorts of things. Evil or good in houses, stress in people, possessed people. I sometimes have psychic visions.’ She is nodding to herself.
—Ask her about me, says Laura, standing behind me, hands on my shoulder.
—Don’t be ridiculous.
‘I can even sense there’s something here, tonight, around this table.’
Joanne’s eyes are closed and she tilts her head from side to side. ‘Someone.’
—Oooh.
—Shut it.
‘Oh, Joanne, no, fuck off. No.’ Julie leans back in her chair and rubs her hair while she looks around the restaurant.
During the silence that follows I almost expect someone to scream. Hopefully not me. I’m willing Joanne not to look at me.
—Look at Ice-Cream Boy.
—No, don’t.
—Do.
—Don’t.
Before Joanne opens her eyes I’m aware of someone else standing behind me, not Laura, she seems to have suddenly cleared off. I look around. Instead of her and her green eyes and black hair and sarcasm and love, there is a man of about thirty, with tattooed arms, a shaved head, and a long pink ponytail sprouting from his shiny pate.
‘Sorry, but couldn’t help overhearing your conversation and just wondered if you’d mind me joining. I love these sort of stories. Got some beliefs of my own about other dimensions.’ His voice is British and surprisingly well-spoken.
‘Bet you have,’ says Kim. ‘Do share, man.’
I sneak a look at Joanne to make sure she isn’t studying me, isn’t getting ready to denounce me as haunted person, but she’s just looking down and stroking the back of her hand.
There’s a scrape of wood across stone as Pink Ponytail pulls up a chair and Julie moves round so he can squeeze in.
‘That’s a really cool story. I’m Derek, by the way.’ His hand is offered and all shake it.
‘What’s your story then, man?’ Kim’s eyes are ready to drop from their sore-looking sockets.
‘Well, I been travelling a while now.’ He reaches behind his head and strokes his tail. ‘Ten years. Seen nearly all of Asia, Africa, South America. I’ve done every continent’s drugs and shit.’
My head is thumping harder.
‘And I’ve had some weird trips, and on some of those trips I’ve really been places.’
Jussy yawns then apologises.
‘You alright, Jussy?’ Marty asks.
‘Yeah, man. Just chilled and a bit bored of the drug stuff. Sorry, Derek, but heard this before. Let me guess, you’ve seen places that really exist, met people that really exist in these places and you could only go there after some heavy hallucinogen. Yeah?’
An unusually vocal moment for Jussy.
‘Yes. That’s it. But it was real and I’ve been there a few times.’
Kim is giggling and bangs his head on the table.
‘Fuuuck. Take me there.’
For a moment we all look at Kim. He looks back at us through slow-moving eyes.
‘What?’
‘Think you need to slow down on the grass, Kimbo.’ I say.
‘Who the fuck are you to tell me that? Don’t fucking tell me what to do.’ The sudden aggression tenses everyone around the table for a second and I have no reply.
Julie tells him to chill.
‘I am fucking chilled. You lot fucking chill. Fuck.’ He shakes his head, swigs his beer and laughs. ‘Everyone suddenly wants to mother me, fuck. Get on with your story.’
‘OK man.’ Derek swallows then coughs. ‘So, yeah, I took some LSD or something and I literally flew out from my body and where I was, right out over the town, and I could see everything clearly below me, houses and trees and cars, and then out over the sea, then I landed really gently on this green grassy island and met some really nice people. It was, I know it sounds weird, just a really warm friendly place. Then I just took off and floated back to me, opened my eyes and knew I’d really been somewhere. Somewhere real, but not on this Earth.’
‘I’ve heard of those places too,’ says Joanne. ‘I believe in them. Lots of drug users believe they have really gone somewhere out of our time and dimension.’
‘Really?’ I ask. Why have I asked that? Don’t even consider it to be true, you idiot. But what if it is? It isn’t.
—What if it is?
—It isn’t.
—Time: fields and fields of moments. Or maybe islands and islands of moments, where you can hop from one and onto another.
I whack my forehead with my hand and the smacking sound makes me jump more than the pain.
‘Jesus, Newbie.’ This is Marty. I nearly forgot he was there. In fact I nearly forgot everyone was there. ‘What’re you doing?’
‘Mosquito. On my head. Squashed it.’ I pretend to rub something off my hand.
‘I sense something in you.’
Oh shit, no.
Joanne is up and standing behind me before I can move my chair back and leave. I can smell patchouli on her.
‘Stress. You are stressed and troubled.’
‘Er, no. Just
a headache. That’s all.’
‘I can help.’
‘No really.’
‘I won’t touch you. Wait. I promise I can make you feel better.’
‘Yeah. Go on. Exorcise Newbie.’ Kim bangs his bottle on the table.
‘Really. I practise healing.’
Healing and a medium. What a girl.
‘It will help. Just relax your shoulders and keep your head still.’
—Go on. Open your mind, numbnuts.
Laura laughs and it rolls around my head like a dropped cymbal in a hall.
I let Joanne do her thing. Her open palms are just a couple of inches from each of my temples. The smell of patchouli is stronger. She slowly moves her hands in little circles.
‘Close your eyes.’
I do. I can’t not. I don’t want to protest too much. The table is silent and everyone is watching. The silence only breaks when Kim mutters something under his breath every few seconds.
‘Relax. Just feel the warmth. Can you feel the warmth?’
I can feel the warmth. Her hands are giving off warmth. And it’s soaking into my head. Little warm spots.
Nice.
Tension is going from all over my body. It’s actually nice.
‘Just let it go. Feel my energy.’ Patchouli, all herbal and fresh, getting stronger, weaker, stronger, weaker with each little rotation.
Nice. Really nice. Don’t stop. My headache’s slipping away like ice down a sink.
—There. See. Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it. Laura smiles gently somewhere. Her face just visible in the shadows.
Joanne takes her hands slowly away, but the warmth is still there, fading, like the last ember in a fire. My headache gone.
‘How’s that?’ Joanne slides back into her seat next to smiling, proud husband.
I just nod and smile.
‘There. See. Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it,’ she says.
My mouth opens, nothing comes out.
‘I told you I sense all sorts of things.’ She winks and smiles. ‘All sorts of things.’
‘This is exactly why I asked to join you lot.’ Derek is now alternating between stroking his bald head and his ponytail. ‘Love meeting people like you lot.’
I’m pleased he speaks. The attention is off me, although Joanne’s eyes meet mine for another second. She gives me another smile, a secret smile, that no one else sees, and I smile back.
I’m losing it.
I take a sip and it tastes like mud. It looks like lots of little turds in a glass of hot water.
‘Don’t you like it?’ Julie is sitting next to me, licking her lips after taking a large mouthful of hers. She chews on one of the little brown lumps.
‘Tastes like mud, looks like poo.’
A ball plonks down a hole on the pool table in the corner of the bar. Kim bangs his cue on the floor.
‘Oh yes. Watch out, Paul Newman.’ He lines up the next ball, brings his arm back and thwacks it. The ball bounces from cushion to cushion, sending most of the other balls it hits into a whirling frenzy that ends with the target ball coming to rest just by the top corner pocket. The Batak Indonesian he’s playing with smiles. Teeth protrude from his tight lips at a forty-five degree angle. His hair is held back by a red bandanna and his eyes bulge out almost as far as his teeth. He eyes the notes on the edge of the table as if they are all already his. I understand why as he takes his shot, pots a ball, then another, then another. Kim looks on, nursing his cup of mushroom tea like it’s a cup of bedtime cocoa.
‘Have some more.’ Julie is holding my tea in front of me. ‘It’s an acquired taste, but the results are stunning.’
I examine the dark mushrooms piled up in my glass. I have no one to answer to, no one to preach to me.
—What about me?
Ignoring her, I gulp a mouthful and feel three slimy objects slip into my mouth.
—Go on then. Swallow. I’m intrigued to see what happens to you.
I swirl them around, give them a quick chew and swallow. They slide down my throat like shitty oysters. I hope the mud taste is the mushrooms and not mud.
‘They grow in water-buffalo shit, you know. That’s why they’re so potent.’
Julie takes another swig of the strange solid drink.
—Mm. Nice. Bet you feel good.
I close my eyes and will her to leave. For a moment she is fully formed and visible behind my eyelids. Smiling and beautiful, alive and floating there. I clamp my eyes shut until she becomes a blot of dark colours and then blackness. That was easy.
When I open my eyes the room is blurry for a second and then clears to a more vivid place. The colours seem a little more, what, colourful? Kim and the Batak are setting up another frame. Marty and one of Batak’s friends have joined them to play doubles. Jussy is chatting to a very short girl with a large head up at the bamboo bar. Pink Ponytail has been left behind in the restaurant with Psychic Jo and adoring husband to discuss the afterlife and out-of-body balls. I’m happy they aren’t here, in this less backpacky bar away from the lake. Other people sit around, chatting in their little groups, becoming more there as I watch.
‘Bloody hell.’ Julie has slouched back in her chair with her feet up under her. Her elbow is touching mine. I’m sitting back with my feet up on the little wooden table in front of us.
‘What?’
‘This is working quick.’
‘It is. Is it?’
There is no more talk while we watch Kim and Marty lose another frame. The Bataks aren’t smiling or laughing, just taking the money like it’s theirs. Watching from over here is like watching a film. The characters are so obvious; two stupid tourists being taken for a ride by two locals who have seen idiots like them in here every night, getting stoned and playing like amateurs and handing over money like it’s nothing more than paper.
‘His teeth are getting bigger.’ Julie’s finger waggles at Bandana Batak.
She’s right. How the hell is that happening?
‘That’s cannibals for you. Big fucking teeth getting ready for the kill.’
I look to Julie and then back to Batak. Those teeth are definitely sticking out more. Heading for ninety degrees rather than forty-five. And his eyes…
‘And his eyes, they’re bulging more.’
Julie leans forward and squints.
‘Shit. They are. Shit.’ Her mouth hangs open.
‘Do you think his ancestors really ate people?’ Batak looks down the end of his cue as he bends over the table, but his eyes aren’t on the ball, they’re on me, bulging at me. He grins and his teeth are more pointed, like a shark’s.
‘Tell me it’s the mushrooms.’ I look at my glass. Half empty. Half full? Can’t be bothered with that discussion. Have another gobful, take away the argument and the psychoanalysis. Mud, mud, glorious mud. Mud pies, little me in the back garden eating my mud pies. No wonder I was sick. Gritty mud in my teeth. Scrunch scrunch.
‘It is the ’shrooms. Just go with it. It gets more amusing.’ Julie is alternating between raising one eyebrow and then the other.
‘You exercising?’
‘What?’
‘Eyebrows. You exercising your eyebrows?’
‘No.’ Up, down, up, down, left up, right up, down together. ‘Why?’
‘Thought you were.’
‘Weirdo.’
Kim is suddenly in my face. How did he get here from over there so quickly?
‘We’re going. These guys have fleeced us. Going to the lake to watch the stars do their thing. Coming?’
‘Did they eat anything?’ asks Julie. ‘Have you checked your fingers?’
Kim checks his fingers. Marty checks his behind Kim.
‘Why would they eat my fingers?’
‘‘Cos they got the teeth for it. Skin-tearing teeth. Rip your face off in one peel, like a satsuma.’
Kim blinks at us, says something that has been slowed down somehow to indecipherable and walks slowly out of the bar.
It takes about half an hour.
‘See you later.’ Marty is still there, looking at us both, some Cheshire-cat smart-arse condescending smirk on his face. ‘You two are gone already.’
‘Not me.’ say I.
‘Oh yes you are. You never done these before, have you, Newbie?’ What? Done what?
‘Just go with it. Time’s going to go bendy and slow and fast and if things get bad, just go with it. The bad bits will pass. And make sure you watch the star show.’ He laughs and walks away. He shakes hands for an hour with the Batak.
Check your fingers. Check your fucking fingers.
Julie is laughing next to me, her head on my shoulder.
‘What?’
‘This is fucking great. Good ‘shrooms. Good fucking ‘shrooms.’
Am I really stoned already? Is stoned the word for mushroom stoned? Is this a trip? I’ve never tripped before. Have some more mud. Good mud.
‘You two look stoned.’ A man in front of us. A big bulk of a man.
Who’s this?
‘Can I join you?’ The bulk sits.
‘Who’s this?’ I ask Julie.
She shakes her head and shrugs and eyebrow-exercises all at the same time.
Whoever he is, he’s got black hair, white skin and a red eye. Why has he got a red eye?
‘Why have you got a red eye?’ asks Julie.
‘It’s an infection. Picked it up in Penang.’
‘Why have you got a flat head?’ she asks.
‘Eh?’
She’s right. He’s getting a flat head. Fuck it’s flattening out. And… and…
‘You got bolts.’ I point at either side of his neck. ‘Bolts. Why have you got bolts?’
‘I haven’t got bolts.’
But he has, and as I watch they get larger and his head gets flatter and his other eyes turns red.
Julie whispers in my ear, ‘Don’t tell him. He doesn’t know. He’s changing and he doesn’t know.’
‘Oh.’ I start laughing. I look at the flat-head man. How can he not know? He’s turned into the Monster. Bolts. What are the bolts for? Would they really keep a head on? I think about grabbing one and twisting but decide not to. Julie’s laughter is right in my ear. Tears are running down her face.