Mindf**k

by Fanie Viljoen

  While the next rider was getting ready Partygirl glanced at me. She smiled and took my hand. And later, when Sick Nick did a Helicopter, she gently slipped her hand in underneath my T-shirt, around my body. And then she softly started telling me why she really came there.

  Sky’s next revelation

  When I went back to the tent to get another beer, I found Sky lying on a foldable mattress. Curled up and fast asleep. There is always this one asshole amongst a group of people whenever you go out. The guy pissing on the fire.

  Ah, just let him be, it’s his own money he is wasting. Softly I opened up the cooler box and removed three beers. Ice cold. There was a slight movement underneath Sky’s eyelids. Was he awake?

  Beep-beep, my cell phone went off.

  1 message received.

  It was my dad. Now he’d started SMSing!

  chris, wheres my car? im going to kill you when you get home. phone me

  Yeah, sure.

  Delete.

  ‘What are you guys up to?’

  I nearly shit myself. I forgot Sky was still in the tent.

  ‘We’re checking out the guys on the bikes. It’s cool. I think I should steal one and try that myself. I wouldn’t want to fuck up my own bike.’

  A slight smile tugged at the corner of Sky’s mouth. It quickly faded again. He folded his hands behind his head, then again around his body as if he was cold. ‘Burns,’ he said and kept quiet for a while, only staring at me. Almost through me. I felt a cold chill running down my spine.

  ‘Yes, Sky?’

  He inhaled deeply. ‘It happened again … when you were away …’

  Oh no, fuck.

  I put the beers back in the cooler box and sat down next to him on the ground. ‘And? Are you okay?’

  Again it went quiet, then: ‘One of the girls from next-door helped. She’s a nurse. There was a doctor here as well. From the medic’s tent.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘Same old shit.’

  There was something that Sky wasn’t telling me. I saw it in his eyes.

  ‘Sky, what?’

  ‘You don’t want to hear it anyway.’ He sighed, turned on his back and stared at the roof, where the sun was sinking lower against the canvas. Outside a bunch of girls started screaming and guys whistled.

  ‘Come on, I’m sure you can do better than that!’ shouted the guy over the microphone.

  They screamed even louder. And then a helluva noise broke loose. The next band had probably hit the stage. Yes, the music started. It sounded like Prime Circle.

  ‘Fuck, tell me.’ I shifted around uncomfortably. The hair at the back of my neck stood up. Sky still stared up at the roof.

  ‘That girl we picked up,’ he whispered, so softly that I could barely hear. ‘She’s going to die.’

  ‘Wow, massive revelation, Sky. We’re all going to die. Some time or other.’

  ‘This weekend.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘She’s going to die this weekend, Burns …’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Accident?’

  Only then did Sky turn to me. ‘I don’t know.’

  There always has to be one guy in the group who comes and pisses on the fire.

  Partygirl organizes the beer

  ‘Let’s find the others and go to the main stage,’ I said to Sky, just because I didn’t know what to say. I took a few beers from the cooler box. ‘And then get pissed. Perhaps the Angel of Death will leave us alone if we are motherlessly drunk.’

  Sky got up. There was a skull on his wrinkled T-shirt. ‘Yeah, whatever, let’s go have fun. Maybe I’m just silly.’ He put his hand on my shoulder. We went to fetch Kerbs and Partygirl from the FMX show. All around us there were guys and girls who still hung around at the tents, getting really drunk or high.

  A guy walked by in front of us, dressed only in a transparent shower curtain. Two holes cut out for his arms and lightly stitched together at the back with fishing line. From the front you could see his dick swinging below the dark bush of hair. ‘Fancy a shower?’ he asked a girl. She only giggled and moved along.

  At another tent there was a braai fire going but the guys had already passed out. They lay across each other, snoring. One of them was sleeping on top of the tent. Don’t piss me off. I don’t know where to hide all the bodies anymore, read his T-shirt.

  As we got closer to the ramps we heard the people cheering. ‘Give it up for my man, Sick Nick!’ More cheers followed.

  We found Kerbs and Partygirl amongst the people, watched as one of the bikers did another back flip, and then we were off to the main stage.

  Prime Circle was still playing. Ross Learmonth, their main vocalist’s voice rocked! Now there was a South African band that was destined to kick butt overseas.

  We worked ourselves through to the front, straining past the warm bodies in the crowd. The ground was already covered in beer cans, forcing you to watch your step.

  Prime Circle performed another three songs. Partygirl danced as if it was the last band of the weekend. She was already on a vibe. And the sun had only now started touching the horizon. Partygirl raised her hands above her head, grinding her hips she turned to me and took me around the neck. I felt her hips rubbing against me. She brought her face closer to mine, her lips opening slightly as if she wanted to kiss me … Then she turned around to the stage again.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, Prime Circle!’ the presenter shouted. (I didn’t recognize him, but I think he was from Kovsie FM.) Cheers, whistles and applause.

  ‘Next up,’ the presenter said while the crew moved around at the back, getting the stage ready for the next band. ‘Next up we’ve got a band that I’m sure you are familiar with. They’ve supported bands like Simple Minds, Live and The Mission. All the way from Jo’burg. Wonderboom!’

  Cheers, whistles and applause.

  Partygirl went wild. ‘Shit, they’re good.’ She took another sip of her beer. The foam shook from the can as she jumped up and down.

  ‘And while they set up the stage for Wonderboom, I’ve got some presents to give away. A big thank you to our sponsor, Castle Lager! Who would like a six-pack of beer?’

  Hey, everyone was willing to knock back a few Castles.

  ‘But you’re not gonna get it that easily. You’ll have to work for it. Now let me see, what can you do to earn this six-pack?’

  A couple of morons still tried to grab the beers from the presenter’s hands. Security had to step in.

  ‘Geez, but you oukes are thirsty,’ the presenter laughed. He moved over to the other side of the stage, our side. ‘Okay, I know. This one is for the girls. Sorry, guys, girls only this time. If you want this six-pack, I want to see some happies, girls. Come on, don’t be scared. I won’t go and blab on you to your mothers. Any takers?’

  ‘Yes-ss!’ Partygirl shouted. She pulled her T-shirt up over her head and her tits jumped out. She threw her arms in the air and turned around for everyone to see.

  ‘Oe-oei-i-i!’ I shouted and lifted her onto my shoulders. (Some of the guys around us wanted to start groping.) When Partygirl rose above the crowd they went even wilder.

  ‘There you go! No stopping that girl tonight. Here you are, girl, you’ve earned it. And a nice rack too. Hell, I wish I could go home with you. With you and my girlfriend.’

  Now it was only the guys cheering.

  Partygirl jumped up and down on my shoulders. She opened up a beer, spraying the people around us. It ran down my hair. I tilted my head backwards and opened my mouth to drink. Partygirl poured more beer into my mouth.

  Kerbs came closer for a sip. Sky only shook his head. ‘You’re fucking crazy!’

  I set Partygirl down on the ground again. She pulled her T-shirt back on, massive smile on her face. ‘Don’t ever say I don’t bring my own booze, boys!’ She knocked her can against mine.

  MindFuck and music that makes Partygirl cry

  The bands were awesome.
By the time the stars came out the party was already scorching hot. Seeing the stars seemed to be a first for the Gautengers, who turned their eyes up in amazement. The city lights had robbed them of the stars all of their lives.

  Sweat dripped down our bodies and mixed with the layers of dust covering us. Dust crept in everywhere, our ears, our noses, under our skins. But that was okay. This kind of party only came once a year.

  Barney Simon, who had done so much in promoting South African bands, was now the presenter. He tossed MindFuck T-shirts into the crowd and said he’d join us in the mosh pit later on. As a new band set up their gear, somebody started juggling with fire. Mesmerizing ribbons of light illuminated the dark. I could almost imagine it being two fireflies caught in a synchronized dance. (Hell, I was getting lyrical – I must have been in love or something. Or perhaps I was just stoned.)

  Even Sky Eyes now seemed more relaxed. I think he’d downed three or more beers earlier, and could now manage fits of laughter from time to time. Or it could just have been the heat.

  When 16 Stitch appeared on stage, we began to understand where the word MindFuck came from. It was just another word for head bang. Mosh. Shatter your mind. Jump. Scream. Fuck around. Crash and burn, baby. MindFuck!

  All three of us were in the mosh pit – me, Kerbs and Sky. Partygirl also joined us in the deranged mass. Unorganized chaos, like our minds. And somehow it made sense – crashing into others. Falling down. Getting up and doing it again. It was self-expression without limits. It was a forgotten primeval ritual consuming our minds. Searching for pain that would make us feel human again. Self-sacrifice.

  And nothing mattered.

  It was just you and the music.

  You and your dysfunctional self.

  You and your loneliness amongst all of the people.

  And the music blasted from the black speakers. We danced, our bodies heating up. Another beer, another spliff, and everything seemed lighter. You forgot everything, like you imagined others have forgotten about you.

  The bands changed. Arno Carstens was up next. Partygirl went crazy. She told everybody around her that Arno was her favourite artist. The people didn’t seem to give a fuck. You could see it in their eyes. In their distant eyes.

  By then bottles and cans littered the ground, making it difficult not to sprain your ankles. Everybody was probably trying to scrub a standing-spot clean for themselves.

  The music started up again. Slowly at first, then gaining momentum, faster and faster. Louder. The band members moved under the red lights. Smoke blew across the stage, turning them into ghosts from the land of rock. Arno grabbed the microphone.

  Partygirl screamed out loud to the people around her: ‘He’s singing just for me!’

  And through the haze whirling in my mind I thought back to the conversation we’d had earlier at the FMX show. She told me how poor they were. Of her dad’s heart attack and his death. The doctor’s bills that were piling up. How her mother forced her to leave school. She now worked at the Champion Supermarket in Winburg, sometimes putting away some money to save for a CD without her mother knowing. It was this money she used to pay for the MindFuck ticket. And that morning, when her mother found out about it, she chased Partygirl out of the house. She couldn’t ever go back.

  Yes, that night Arno was singing only to Partygirl, for she had nothing left but his songs.

  As Partygirl stood there, motionless in the midst of the jumping masses, I could see that she was crying.

  The sex scene you’ve been waiting for (me included)

  I took Partygirl back to the tent. She said she wanted to go back while Arno Carstens was still playing. Then it would be as if the music will always be there for her. As if the music would never stop. I don’t think I really understood what she meant. My head was spinning and it sounded as if it could have made sense if only I was sober. So I let it go.

  Holy shit, there were a lot of tents. Which one was ours? We should’ve marked it with a light or something. A flashing police light. Fokofpolisiekar – the word dawned on me. What was it? The answer surfaced through my cloudy mind: it was one of the bands that still had to perform. Oh, yes. I wanted to laugh.

  ‘There’s the tent,’ Partygirl said. She clung to me as we stumbled ahead, falling over tent pegs and empty cans. We stepped in something. What the fuck was that? Did someone take a dump right here between the tents?

  The stench followed us all the way to the tent.

  ‘Take off your shoes and leave them outside the door,’ I said to Partygirl.

  ‘I think I’d better go and clean them in the water,’ she said.

  The water?

  I thought about my dream. The black water.

  ‘No, take them off and leave them outside.’

  ‘Someone will steal them. I didn’t bring another pair.’ Her voice seemed tired, laden with a weariness that makes drunken people’s voices linger.

  She made her way down to the water. Barefoot. Fuck, I hoped there weren’t any shards of glass in the mud. Or if there were, that would have been the blood that Sky saw. She waded into the water. I followed her. To clean my shoes as well.

  ‘You’re going in too deep,’ I said.

  Her hips were already below the water’s surface.

  ‘Partygirl, get out, please. Come and stand here beside me.’

  ‘The water is fine.’

  ‘Get out.’

  ‘Come in.’

  ‘Fuck, Partygirl.’ My voice was anxious. My heart started beating faster. She went in even deeper.

  I tossed my shoes back to the embankment. ‘Get out!’

  Then I followed her. She kept on walking.

  ‘I think I dropped my shoes,’ she said. Her voice echoed clearly from the black water. It sounded weird in the dark.

  I’m performing magic, Sky said from my dream. Mind magic. And you’re my volunteer.

  What did he mean? Mind magic.

  ‘Get out, Partygirl!’ The water touched her chin.

  I dived forward. The water was icy cold.

  ‘Tina! Stop!’ It was the first time that I had called her by her name.

  And suddenly she stopped. She turned around. Her face was hidden in the dark. I could only see her forehead and a part of her nose.

  ‘My name is Partygirl.’

  ‘Tina, stop your shit.’ As I approached, her face became more visible. My heart relaxed. ‘Come,’ I said when I reached her.

  ‘I lost my shoes,’ she said.

  ‘That’s okay, we’ll find them. Tomorrow.’

  ‘But by then they’ll have drifted away.’

  ‘This is not the sea. It’s a dam.’

  I didn’t know how much sense that made. Are there currents in a dam?

  We got out of the water, mud squeezing out from between our toes.

  ‘Let’s go find the towels.’ Shivering bodies in the dark. We unzipped the tent. Got in, zipped it back up again. It was warmer inside. She started removing her clothes. I scratched around in my bag for a towel.

  ‘I only brought one.’ I held it out to her.

  She took it and started drying her body. Her breasts were white, stiff. She dried her long, black hair. I noticed her neck, how it curved off over her shoulders. She unbuttoned her jeans, pulled down the zip, slightly lifting her bum as she pealed the jeans from her legs. She wore white panties. Wet. In front there was a darkened spot.

  I stared hypnotized. I could feel myself growing hard, pulled the wet T-shirt over my head and shifted closer to her. I touched her. She looked up. The towel fell in her lap. I caressed her face with the back of my fingers. Her skin was soft. She placed her hand on mine. Gently. She moved my hand down, over her breast, her belly, navel, into the front of her panties. She closed her eyes.

  Fuck, I thought.

  I felt her heat, wetness.

  She unbuttoned my jeans, pulled them down slowly.

  She lay down on the wrinkled sleeping bags, pulled me closer.

  Without a co
ndom.

  She told me that she loved me.

  Unwelcome Guest

  My body pressed up against Partygirl’s. I heard her gasp softly every time I thrust my hips forward.

  She wants to talk to me, I thought, but I only had one thing on my mind, and it wasn’t talking.

  Partygirl was the first to look up. She shoved me off her. The tent’s zip opened up.

  ‘May I join the fun?’ It was Kerbs.

  ‘No, fuck off, Kerbs. Fuck off!’

  ‘What do you mean?’ He reeked of booze. It was too dark in the tent to see his face, but I imagined his pupils being as large as 1 Rand coins. ‘Come on, let me have a go at her.’

  ‘No! Fuck off!’

  He was kneeling at the entrance of the tent, touching the front of his pants. His hard-on. ‘When you’re finished, then.’

  ‘No!’ Partygirl and I said simultaneously.

  ‘Fuck you, Burns! Then I’ll take her!’ he hissed through his grinding teeth.

  He pushed me out of the way. I rolled over something sharp (a knife?) ‘Ouch, shit!’

  I felt for blood and saw Kerbs trying to undo his fly, but having difficulty. Partygirl wanted to roll away. Kerbs pinned her down between his knees.

  I got up, grabbed Kerbs by the throat, and tried to pull him from her. His dick was hard.

  He tore my hands from his throat. Powerfully. Quick. I didn’t even see his fist flying; only felt it striking me on the chin, then my temple. The pain shot through my head like a crossbow arrow.

  Partygirl screamed.

  ‘Shut up!’ shouted Kerbs.

  Where’s my knife? I felt around between the wrinkled sleeping bags. Kerbs was on top of Partygirl again. His pants down round his knees. His hand over her mouth. Where’s the knife? I tossed the sleeping bags aside on a pile, felt around in the darkness. The fucking darkness. I heard Partygirl trying to scream from underneath Kerbs’ hand. I saw his crotch starting to push. Shit, no!