Authors: Mike Stoner
âJust 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.
âThere. See. Don't knock it âtil 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.
âHow's that?' Joanne slides back into her seat next to smiling, proud husband.
I just nod and smile.
âThere. See. Don't knock it âtil you've tried it,' she says.
My mouth opens, nothing comes out.
âI told you I sense all sorts of things.' She winks and smiles. âAll sorts of things.'
âThis is exactly why I asked to join you lot.' Derek is now alternating between stroking his bald head and his ponytail. âLove 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.
âDon'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.
âTastes 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.
âOh 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.
âHave some more.' Julie is holding my tea in front of me. âIt'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.
âWhat about me?
Ignoring her, I gulp a mouthful and feel three slimy objects slip into my mouth.
âGo 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.
âThey grow in water-buffalo shit, you know. That's why they're so potent.'
Julie takes another swig of the strange solid drink.
âMm. 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.
âBloody 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.
âWhat?'
âThis is working quick.'
âIt 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.
âHis teeth are getting bigger.' Julie's finger waggles at Bandana Batak.
She's right. How the hell is that happening?
âThat'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 eyesâ¦
âAnd his eyes, they're bulging more.'
Julie leans forward and squints.
âShit. They are. Shit.' Her mouth hangs open.
âDo 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.
âTell 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.
âIt is the 'shrooms. Just go with it. It gets more amusing.' Julie is alternating between raising one eyebrow and then the other.
âYou exercising?'
âWhat?'
âEyebrows. You exercising your eyebrows?'
âNo.' Up, down, up, down, left up, right up, down together. âWhy?'
âThought you were.'
âWeirdo.'
Kim is suddenly in my face. How did he get here from over there so quickly?
âWe're going. These guys have fleeced us. Going to the lake to watch the stars do their thing. Coming?'
âDid they eat anything?' asks Julie. âHave you checked your fingers?'
Kim checks his fingers. Marty checks his behind Kim.
âWhy would they eat my fingers?'
ââCos 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.
âSee you later.' Marty is still there, looking at us both, some Cheshire-cat smart-arse condescending smirk on his face. âYou two are gone already.'
âNot me.' say I.
âOh yes you are. You never done these before, have you, Newbie?' What? Done what?
âJust 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.
âWhat?'
âThis is fucking great. Good âshrooms. Good fucking âshrooms.'
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.
âYou two look stoned.' A man in front of us. A big bulk of a man.
Who's this?
âCan I join you?' The bulk sits.
âWho'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?
âWhy have you got a red eye?' asks Julie.
âIt's an infection. Picked it up in Penang.'
âWhy have you got a flat head?' she asks.
âEh?'
She's right. He's getting a flat head. Fuck it's flattening out. And⦠andâ¦
âYou got bolts.' I point at either side of his neck. âBolts. Why have you got bolts?'
âI 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, âDon't tell him. He doesn't know. He's changing and he doesn't know.'
âOh.' 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.
âHe doesn't know. Poor bloke. And we're laughing at him.'
I'm laughing more too. I've caught it off Julie. I laugh tears. Happy tears. Happiness shooting up from my stomach. Julie laughs. I look at Frankenstein and he's gone.
âHe's gone. Looking for a little girl,' snorts Julie. âFuck. No other fucker can see all this. Just us.' We sit there laughing, legs curling up, cheeks wet, muddy mouths. She's my friend. She can see what I see. I can see what she sees. How cool is that?
Teary watery vision. Big skin-ripping teeth, bulging eyes stare from across the room. I laugh more.
âWe should go. He's hungry,' I blurt into Julie's creased-up face.
âYeah. Fuck, drink up and we go. Go let's go. Yeah. Come on. Go.'
Stumbling feet. More mud. A spaceman's slow walk across the bar to leave. Jussy waves to us. I wave back, a big slow arc of a wave. Jussy winks and turns back to big-head girl. Bulging eyes everywhere. Wolves circling. Come on, feet; faster. Out. Night and cool. Insects screeching in the grass. Julie's hand through my arm. One foot in front of the other. And again. And again. This is taking forever. The lake was never this far. One foot, then the other. Slowly. Come on. Before sunrise.
One foot.
The other.
One foot.
The other.
The path is dark, but things start shooting around in the corners of my eyes. Bright white lines like comets. I look around and up. The stars are still, but then one suddenly streaks across the night sky like a comet, leaving a long shining trail. Then another.
âThe stars are falling.'
âDancing,' she says, âthey're dancing.'
Finally we turn off the lane and follow a path down some steps and between the blocks of buildings that make up our hotel. Down the steps, down down down. So many of them. How can the lake be down such a steep hill? I'm at the bottom and sitting in a chair, plastic chair, white plastic, rough edges around the arms. I run my fingers along the rough bits, pick at the loose bits. This bit won't come off. Twist it. Pull it. Ah. It's free.
âFucking Newbie. Fucking Newbie.' Kim is sitting opposite. His moonlit head is shaking, wobbling, blurring.
âWhat?' How can a word take so long to say? Whaaaaaaaaaaaatttt.
âNewbie. Newbie be tripping.' Kim is rocking on his chair. No he's not. He's still. No, he's rocking. No, my head's rocking. Keep still. Stop moving head. You'll wake the dead.
âHa haaa.'
âYou OK?' Julie rubs my arm. I push it off. Too close. In my air.
âWake the dead. Funny one.' I rub my arm. It's hot from Julie's hand. She's too hot. I'm too cold?
Silence. The lake is dark. An endless black crater just feet away. Silent and black and deep and still. All around black. Mountains pushing down with blackness. Breathe in. Deep breath. I'm high. That's all, just high. I spin back to normality. Everyone's clear; Julie is tapping her knees with clumped-together fingers. Kim is looking from me to Julie. His eyes wide and watery. One second on each of us. God, he's gone, not me, he's wasted, not me. Am I? Splashing from the lake. My head spins again. No, don't go again. Stay here. Stay straight. Marty comes out of the black, dripping black, black eyes in the blackness. Oily black tar running off his body.
âGreat swim. Great. Go on. Jump in. Lie on your back and watch the laser show. Bloody awesome.' He falls on his behind in front of us.
Laser show? The stars. I look. I'm spinning. Then I'm not. The stars shoot here, there, crossing over each other. None of them stay still. Trails of thin light scar the night sky. I jerk my head in every direction trying to follow them. I never knew they did this.
âI never knew they did this.'
âMushrooms, man. Make you see it all as it really is.' Kim's face is skyward. Eyes dart around.