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happens, the Hulk didn't actually save my life. Like I said before - bravery and being a so-called hero is all about timing and placing, circadian rythyms, and biochemical reactions, but now you can add meteorological effects to the list of complicating factors.
See, when we ventured up above ground, we discovered that the tornado, the Void, had lifted off before it came upon the manse.
Under the full arch of a glorious rainbow, a rainbow that seemed made for us two and us alone, we saw the only thing the Void had shredded was the boundary fence between what was holy and what was not.
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24
Nightmare I
The Fonz called me into his dream office that night. You know - the one in the back of Arnold's Diner. Yeah, I was a bit wary about going into the bogs after the Hall of Fame incident but I went anyway. You don't let the Fonz down, even if you're bogophobic and he himself has let you down with bad advice.
'Hey,' said Fonzie, cool as you like in his white-tiled element. 'Good to see you again, Wil.'
'Hi,' I said, dehberately leaving the Fonzie-sir out of my reply.
The Fonz must have decided to ignore my disrespect. He must also have decided to set aside his no-contact-with-the-leather rule because he put his arm around my shoulders. 'We need to talk.'
'What, about Teresa? Thanks to you she doesn't want to know me, except as a good friend.'
The Fonz winced. 'She used the just good friends line?'
'Yeah.'
The Fonz patted me on the back. 'Well, that's bad, but bad's not always as bad as it seems.' 'Yeah?'
'Yeah,' said the Fonz going to the gleaming bathroom mirror. 'She isn't dating anyone else, is she?' 'Nah.'
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The Fonz whipped out his comb. 'The next big Group Day's tomorrow isn't it?'
'Great America's not tomorrow but Friday.'
The Fonz smiled and slicked his hair back with some water. 'An amusement park - nowhere better.'
'Yeah, Fonzie?'
The Fonz combed his hair back and said, 'Yeah, Ritchie, chicks love to be scared as long as they know they aren't going to get hurt. What you've got to do is accidentally get in the car beside her on a rollercoaster ride.'
'That won't be easy, Fonz, with Kelly hanging around.' 'Try it and see,' the Fonz said and put his comb back into his jacket.
'OK, Fonzie,' I said reluctantly. 'I'll see you around.'
I had to ask, didn't I? 'Why are you helping me with Teresa, Fonzie?'
'Hey, you need a chick, Ritchie.'
'My name's not Ritchie. It's Wil.'
Fonzie shrugged. 'You need a chick, Wil, or else . . .'
There was suddenly a bad smell in the toilet I mean it was ten times worse than shite. It smelt like burnt meat, somebody who'd been fried and died and left to rot.
'Or else what - let me guess, Fonz, you're going to say - I don't know.'
'Or else, Wil - one, two, Freddy's going to get you.'
'Freddy - you mean the demon, Freddy Krueger?' I said, trying not to hurl with the reek and all.
'Yeah,' whispered the Fonz and pointed to the cubicle. I could see it was occupied - the door was locked and there were two boots visible from the outside. 'Your worst nightmare's in there, waiting to come out and he will, if you don't get to loving Teresa.'
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The nightmare ended abruptly - I remember waking up with a start to find I was sweating like a pig despite the chill of the air-con. And there was the taste of burnt flesh in my mouth. It was godawful. I needed to spit it out or I was going to barf, so I rushed to the bog.
I spat and I rinsed with Derry's mouthwash, and I spat some more: I even flossed, but I couldn't get that taste or smell away for ages.
When I finally went back to bed I kept thinking of those boots, those boots in the cubicle and I wouldn't, couldn't get to sleep because it was when you slept that Freddy could get at you.
I must have dropped off and dozed at some point, but did I really sleep? Nah.
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25
Top Gun
Like I said before, I don't have a very good memory when I don't get a restful night's sleep. As a result the top of the morning following Nightmare I's a bit hazy on it. It's funny when I think about it, ironic even - I can remember that dream as clear as day but not that day.
I've always wondered about that.
I looked into it on the internet in the prison library. And you know what? Current dream theorists tell us that dreams are supposed to be analogies of the unresolved emotions of the previous waking day. That way, they say, your brain, more specifically your hypocampus, gets to de-stress itself while your body remains for the most part safely inert. But try as I might I couldn't find any working theories to explain what is happening when dreams become visions or portents.
Maybe only real shamans can know that?
I didn't tell Derry about my nightmare, or anyone else for that matter, up until now, but I took it seriously. I was going to try my heart out to get back with Teresa in Great America.
First things first, I have to tell you about having a nice day watching Top Gun with your man Tom Cruise and Kelly oops-I've-just-come-in-my-pants McGillis. Aw, what a great movie! Takes your breath away, you know?
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Derry and me, not wanting to talk much in case we talked of the day before and fell out again, we went to the matinee at the Mall multiplex. I was determined to savour the whole experience for the glorious fake it was. The Hollywood sign. The service with a smile. I bought extra buttered popcorn because of the atmosphere. It set me up to watch that movie twice. Derry must have thought I was crazy but it was just the ticket, see. Lots of testosterone-pumped boys with their Cold War toys and Maverick's ego writing cheques his body couldn't cash, and romance, and shagging silhouettes and a rocking (albeit soft rock) soundtrack.
You just wanted to be Maverick, you know? He had it all. He could fly higher than heaven. He became a hero, saved the day, gave them ditwad Commies the bird. And he got the girl even though he couldn't sing a note. And to add to that, his hero Da was dead!
What more could any son in his right mind wish for?
I mean, so what if he killed his mate Goose? It's a war movie; you knew some tragedy like that was going to happen as soon as you found out Goose was married. In fact you knew it when you heard the name Goose - as in cook the, and wring the neck of. . .
When I look back on what I thought of that movie it makes me laugh.
It's no wonder I loved it because, like all Hollywood Blockbusters it's made to a formula. That formula is based on what's called the heroic mythic journey. That journey is based on the way the Father would like his sons to behave on quests. Questing for the Father is much better than questioning Him; it's easier too, so most sons go that way and become Daddy's boys. You know the story, you've seen it a thousand times. Daddy's boys leave their ordinary world when they receive His
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call to adventure; maybe they're a bit reluctant but a friendly mentor helps them see the light, and they cross the first threshold into the special world, where they encounter allies and enemies and are tested to see if they can approach the inmost cave. This is where they will struggle with death in a supreme ordeal and, if they survive, get the reward of the elixir of life which they will try to bring back to the ordinary world to give to the Father and His group.
Yeah, that's the way a hero is born to the group. Makes you feel all warm and cosy inside doesn't it? That's because your own ego is forged from the myth of the hero. And behind the sacrificial hero is, guess who, the legendary Father, who through His representatives teaches: Do things for your Da, it'll make you feel good. Do things for your Ma, it'll make you feel good. Look after your brothers and sisters, it'll make you feel good. Love your neighbours and do things for them - that's the path of true happiness. When you find someone to love, give everything you have in the world to that person and, when the two of you have childre
n which you must, give everything you have in the world to them. Love your enemies - greater love has no man than to lay down his life killing others for his country. Respect the Law - it's made for your own good. Ask not what your Queen/ President can do for you but what you can do for your Queen/President - you'll feel better about yourself. Be nationalistic and socialistic because it'll make you feel like you're needed, part of a bigger Volk, and maybe if you do it really well, you'll feel like you matter.
Quest. Serve. Protect. Honour. Obey. Save. Sacrifice. Love.
All fired up, I left that multiplex five miles high in an F-16 of an ego. I made my forced landing at a cafe in the
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Mall - the exact same one as we went to after Aliens with the homos.
As there were only two of us, we broke the unwritten code of boy behaviour by skipping the movie postmortem (we've covered that anyway). We had the Milwaukee Milkshakes though.
'You all right, Wil?' Derry asked me.
'Yeah,' I said back.
There was an awkward silence. I kept drinking.
'You're not still holding what went on yesterday against me, are you?' Derry said.
'Nah. Not so long as you swear never to do that to me again. Ever.'
'OK, I swear. Are we cool now?'
'Yeah.'
There was another gap. I was down to slurping froth, so I thought I better say something to fill it. 'I was just thinking about Great America. You know - I've never ridden on a rollercoaster.'
'No shit.'
'None.'
'They have this latest one there. The Demon. I haven't been on it yet either.' 'The Demon you say?'
'Yeah, it's meant to run half underground, half up in the air you know?'
'Sounds—' I got lost for the right word. '—Scary? It will be.'
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26
Great America
We had to get up at the scrake of dawn and be down at the collection point for 7.30 to get the yellow Freddy bus to Great America. Mom Horrowitz drove us out of the manse at 6.45 but we had the go the whole way across the city, so me and Derry were the last Projectees there. Needless to say, we weren't very popular. We got booed on board. Mostly by Seamus and Peter and their Taig cronies at the back. But I think, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Helmut booing too.
While we were finding a decent seat, I looked for Teresa but I didn't see her. At first. She was there all right, sitting beside Kelly, except I didn't recognise her any more. She'd had all her lovely blue-black hair cut off. I stood there staring in the horror, the horror, the horror, until—
Derry tapped me on the shoulder and said, 'The only two-seater left is at the front.'
'Aw fuck!' I said back, all the while looking at Teresa.
So we had to sit up at the front. That was uncool in itself, but what made it really uncool was we had to sit directly behind Stacey-May who had to have a seat all to herself. What made it unbearably uncool was the fact that Teresa had decided to model her looks on your woman Sinead O'Connor!
I was still in shock half an hour into the journey when
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Stacey-May turned to me and said, 'How you doing. Problem Child?'
'I'm hanging together,' I said.
She looked at me intensely, like she did when she made me her Stage Manager.
'I'm not volunteering for anything,' I added quickly.
'Did I ask you to?'
'Nah but you were going to.'
Stacey-May shook her head and laughed. 'You know, you're a mighty suspicious character, Wil.'
Derry couldn't help but laugh too. 'Yeah right,' he said.
'And you're even more suspicious,' said Stacey-May to Derry.
'Yeah!' said Derry, taking it as a compliment.
Stacey-May looked back at me. 'I need two people, a boy and a girl, for a piece I'm writing for the Milwaukee Tribune about the Project and, you're the boy for me.'
I said, 'Nah not today.'
'I'm not doing it today,' she said. 'It'll be next Tuesday. At the group photo. OK?' 'I said nah.'
'Yeah,' said Derry. 'He said nah.' Stacey-May smiled and turned away. That woman wouldn't take nah for an answer!
Forty-five minutes later, in a whole new state - that of Illinois - the bus arrived at the queue for the gates of Great America. I reckon it was nearly another hour before we finally got parked, and there were further delays waiting for us. Before we were let loose on to the rollercoasters every Projectee had to be given a free pass to get in, a free packed lunch, and a Rainbow of Hope T-shirt. Us fellas were told to take off our own T-shirts and leave them on the bus; the girls were told to wait and
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change after we'd got off. Yeah, fella or girl, we'd all be wearing the Project T-shirt that day so we'd be easily recognised by the crap red, yellow and blue rainbow print (easily controlled more like).
'Do we have to?' I asked Stacey-May.
She said, 'Is the Pope Catholic, Problem Child?'
I decided for my own good I'd better not answer that question, or correct her terminology to something a little less politically correct.
With a hrmph I took one of Derry's hand-me-downs off and put my own little rainbow on. Derry put his on too. And, looking like dorks-kinder, we went to have some fun.
Our free group passes allowed us access to every ride in the place. We thought that was just great until we saw the queues.
'Let's start small, work our way up to the Demon,' Derry suggested. 'And then we can do the big one - the American Eagle.'
'Where first then?' I said, looking out for Teresa.
'We could do the White Water Rafting. That way we'll dry out by noon.'
I saw Teresa and Kelly heading for the water ride. 'OK, let's do that.'
Derry saw who I was looking at and twigged on to my game. 'You're not still after her are you?'
'Nah. Course not.'
'Aye, the fuck you're not!' said Derry in the vernacular of home. 'She's a Taig. And now she's a bald Taig. Forget it!'
He wasn't to know that I couldn't do that, that the core of my humanity depended on getting on to a rollercoaster with Teresa and making her fall back into love with me.
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The queue for the White Water Rafting was all of twenty minutes long and those were twenty long long long minutes I can tell you because guess who was two places in front of us?
That's right - Kelly and Teresa.
And guess who was in line right behind us?
Right again - our ex-brothers in crime, Phil and his Purple Helmut.
'Yo,' Phil dared to say to me.
I looked away.
Derry and me tried to ignore them homos as best we could but—
'Yo, Wil,' Phil said. 'This isn't fair. I thought we were mates.'
That was too much for Derry. He turned on Phil, the Hulk glowing in his eyes. 'Not any more, homo!'
'Derry,' I warned him in a hiss. 'Don't you fucking lose it here. Remember - you promised.'
Derry somehow managed to bite back the anger and turned his back on the others. I had his back. 'Listen,' I said, trying to keep my voice low for all our sakes. 'That was before, OK? What you did means you and I can't be friends, so just fuck off and leave us alone, OK?'
Those were the last words I ever said to Phil. I bitterly regret them. His black-eyed face just hollowed out as I spoke, you know? But what else was there to do?
There was room for eight on those circular rafts so we all got on the same one: me and Derry, Kelly and Teresa, Phil and Helmut, and two complete strangers. It definitely wasn't all fun and games at the start, what with Kelly love-hating Derry and Derry hating Kelly, and me and Derry love-hating Phil and Helmut and them probably love-hating us right back, and me and Teresa being just good friends, and the strangers hating us all
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because we were strange and there were more of us rainbows than them. I mean - if looks could kill, at the end of the ride they'd have found all eight of us lyin
g sodden-dead on the floor.
But as the raft spun away down the water-shoot, I smiled across at the skinhead who used to be my eldritch Teresa.
She smiled back.
'Like your hair,' I lied.
'Thanks,' she replied.
'When'd you get it done?'
'Last Monday.'
All you could hear was human silence. Rushing water. Nobody else backed me up with compliments like they should in that situation.
'Well, I like it,' I lied again.
'Thanks,' she replied again.
We entered into a series of tyre-rapids and water splashed up into the raft. As his shorts got wet, Helmut shrieked like the big girl he was.
I smiled at Teresa.
She smiled back, all tight-lipped.
We spun towards bigger rapids and as we hit them, Kelly got drenched, and Teresa, she got wet.
Derry laughed for a full circle of the raft. But he stopped when he saw we were rushing towards the big double waterfall and it was our part of the circle that was going to get it in the spin.
The pair of us tried to paddle our way out of it but we were too close to avoid it and got absolutely head-to-toe soaked.
It was Kelly's turn to laugh at Derry, and Teresa's to laugh, politely, at me, and Phil's and Helmut's to be in vengeful hysterics at the both of us.
Phil and Helmut didn't have the last laugh though.
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They got hit with a big jet of water from a gantry, right at the end when they must have thought they were safe.
'What ride are you going on next?' I asked Teresa back on dry land.
'What ride are you, Wil?' asked Kelly, taking Teresa's arm and steering her away from me.
I looked to Derry for help. He shrugged and came up with, 'The Meteorite?'
'Oh dear,' said Kelly. 'We're going to have lunch. Bye-bye.'
They walked off.
I was all for going after Teresa but Derry said, 'Leave it. We'll catch up with her later.' 'OK. Let's have lunch anyway.'
'OK,' Derry said. 'But you know what that means don't you?' 'Tell me.'
'If we do go on the Meteorite next, we'll blow lunch-chunks all over the place.'
So we went on the Meteorite before lunch just to please him. It was one of your whirlybird rides that spin the punters round and round, and holds them in place with only centrifugal force and a piddling wee chain. It didn't scare me as such, and it might even have helped to dry me out a bit; I just really didn't like the head-spins it gave you after it was over. When we got off and were standing still, I nearly blew chunks even without eating my free lunch.
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