Thrill Seekers (10 page)

At the edge of the park there was a rich looking sort of a house, brick with rose bushes and those big fluffy flowers on real long stems. A window was open. A small one. Up high.

‘Get here Douggie,’ ordered Jacko.

And I was pushed forward. I didn’t want to go. But I wanted Jacko and the fellas to like me again, to show them I was good for something. That it paid to keep me around.

Up on top of Jacko’s shoulders everything started spinning and going weird, the window seemed way too small,
like I was Alice in that story where she filled up a whole house.

‘I’m not gunna fit,’ I whispered down to him.

‘Course you can. Don’t pike on us now. Just get in and open the door. We’ll do the rest.’

‘It’s too small,’ I whimpered.

‘Fuck you, Loony. Just do it,’ said Jacko pushing hard on my bum till I fell through, half on a toilet, half on cold tiles. My knife clattered into the bathtub beside me.

‘I’m in!’ I yelled.

‘Shut up, you dickwad,’ came the hiss back. ‘Just let us in.’

It was dark. And quiet. I picked up my knife and followed the moonlight on the
blade deeper into the house. Inside it smelt like disinfectant and furniture polish and like something good had been cooked for tea. I was hungry. It’d been a long time since lunch the day before.

I found the kitchen. The fridge shone white like a space-age treasure chest. Inside, it was full of good things to eat, the sort of things you always wish you’d find when you get home from school starving. Cakes and chocolate milk and custard and pies and chicken.

There was a whole big plate full of what looked like Kentucky Fried, and even some roast potatoes. I couldn’t believe my luck. I propped the door open with my body, tucked my knife into the top of my jeans and shoveled in chicken and potatoes, scooped out hunks of apricot pie with my fist. In my mouth it turned real weird, more like sponges than food. I gagged.

The overhead fluorescent light flashed on. Flicker. Flicker. BANG! I was blinded.
Something was coming towards me. Something big and mean and ugly. I grabbed my knife and lashed out. It was a trap. An alien blood-sucking trap. They’d all been in on it.

My hands were slippery with chicken and pie but when I held them both around the handle of my knife I got a good grip. I swung and moved forward, scrunching my eyes closed. Swung again.

Hit something.

A cry. A cat. Meeeeooooow.

I peeked and caught a glimpse. A giant white cat, an alien cat with lumpy pink bits instead of ears.

I aimed and lunged. Got it!

Screech.

Laughing, I swung again. It felt good, like I was strong. Invincible. Like it was
connecting me to the earth and to all hunters, to the cave men. Like I was part of some great cosmic plan.

Something heavy fell, hit the table, and thudded onto the lino. I squeezed my eyes tight trying to get a picture, flick onto the right channel. The thing moved so I lunged towards it again.

The rattling and banging at the door made me stop. Then I remembered. The fellas. Wait till they saw what I’d done. Douggie the alien killer. They’d carry me on their shoulders, cheer, go crazy. I’d be a hero, a king.

‘What took you so long?’ came Jacko’s voice through the door as my hands slipped on the doorknob. ‘Why’d you turn the light on?’

Still smiling I opened the door and the boys came pouring in bringing the dark night with them.

‘What were you doing, Douggie?’

Then they saw it.

Her.

The old lady.

She was lying curled up beside the table in a white nightie, her hair in fat pink curlers. Her hands were up in front of her face and there were slashes like claw marks on her arms. The alien must’ve got her.

Jacko was the first back out the door.

‘What’ve you done? You fucking crazy cunt. What the fuck have you done?’

After they locked Douggie away, Jacko finally broke up with Beck. As part of his celebrations, he’d decided we needed to grow our own dope, so he dug up a circle of lawn in the backyard with his new motorbike, doing spin outs, chunks of turf and dirt flying everywhere, laughing like a maniac. Then he shaved off the eyebrows of some young fellas, so there were a whole lot of grommets running around looking like freaky lizard-people. They thought they looked cool, that it meant Jacko liked them. Maybe it did.

One night a few weeks after that, I woke up with Jacko leaning over me, shaking me by the shoulders.

‘Brian! Wake up man. Ya gotta help me. It’s all falling apart.’

I put my hands up to my forehead to check that my eyebrows were still there, then peeled his hands off me. His eyes were wild. He’d shaved off the hair above the ears on both sides of his head.

‘What’s up with your hair, mate?’ I laughed, trying to calm him down, but he was jumping around my room like his feet were on fire.

‘Fuck man! Get up! Everything’s about to go. We gotta get out of here!’

‘What? You’re just tripping mate, freaking out. Take a valium.’ But he wasn’t listening. He started banging his fists so hard into his forehead I thought he was going to make a hole.

I knew I wasn’t going to be able to roll over and go back to sleep. He was freaking out big time. So I got up, grabbed his arms, and made him sit down next to me on the bed.

‘Brian? It’s really you isn’t it?’ His eyes had that same spaced-out look Douggie’s had had when he first flipped out. My guts leapt into my mouth. Not Jacko too. I couldn’t stand it. I’ve had enough of crazy.

‘It’s me. Just calm down. It’s the acid that’s all. Let’s go get a bit of fresh air.’ Seeing the moon and trees and stuff usually calmed people down.

‘It’s all falling apart,’ he whispered. ‘Man, everything’s gone evil.’

‘Forget about it.’ I put my arm around his shoulders and led him out the back. We sat on the stairs and I showed him the stars and how everything was just the same, how it wasn’t falling down. Sort of patting him a bit.

He stopped panicking after a while and leant over, resting his head on me.

‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘You’re a real mate. You really are.’

‘Yeah, yeah. I love you too.’ And I did. We’d been best friends for years, been through all sorts of shit together. He knew me better than anyone. And I knew him. At least I thought I did. ‘Don’t worry mate. Everything’s okay. You just did too much acid tonight, that’s all,’ I said.

He nodded, still with his head nestled into me like I was his mother. And I sat there with my arm around him on the stairs, looking out at the moon, thinking.

And then a few weeks later I found them: all tangled together on top of the bare mattress, the sheets in a pile on the floor. They didn’t even grab for the covers when they saw me. Jacko looked up as if it was
nothing, as if it was just another girl I’d found him with.

I guess I should have knocked.

I should never have let those Goths into the house. They seemed harmless enough, once you got over their stupid haircuts and clothes. And I really didn’t have a choice once they started coming in with Beck. When Jacko dropped her, I thought that’d be the end of it, but that bloody Pete kept turning up like an odd sock.

‘Bums to the wall!’ we’d joke when we saw him coming up the drive in his pointy boots and flouncy shirts. But he was all right. He’d have a laugh with us and wasn’t too girly. If it weren’t for his makeup and some of the things he said, you’d never have known. And Jacko liked him. Started getting into the music he brought over, even though I thought it was garbage. Some nights he’d sit next to Pete for hours and they’d natter away like two old ladies, talking about music and drugs and shit. I’d give up trying to get a word in, and go to
bed to have a private joint and wank over some porno.

The house just wasn’t what it used to be. No Russ. Douggie locked up. And then the bloody Goths. They changed it somehow. Changed Jacko. He’d rather talk to Pete than have a drink with me.

I suppose I should’ve noticed something, but I never saw them touching, no holding hands or stuff like that. Once I thought I saw them smiling at each other across the room over something they found funny but no one else did. A private joke. Jacko started showering more often. That should’ve told me something was up, but I just thought he was finally getting my hints.

I suppose there were signs, but I didn’t think it was possible. Not Jacko. We were best mates, I’d have known something like that about him. He’d have told me. We’d done everything together till that Pete came along. Shared bongs, girls, shared life really. I’d seen a different girl come out of his room every night since he’d broken up with Beck.

That’s why I didn’t knock.

‘Gidday,’ Jacko said like it was any other morning. ‘Wild party hey?’

‘Morning,’ said Pete. ‘Got a hangover or what? I was totally wasted.’

‘I, ah… sorry,’ I said and backed out quick smart, feeling as if I was about to fall down. They’d had their arms, their hands, all over each other, like they couldn’t let go. I stumbled like a blind man across to the bong table where Steve and a few of the others were pulling the first cones of the morning.

‘Fuck man, what’s up with you? You look like shit,’ said Steve, through a steady stream of smoke.

I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t tell anyone. I shook my head to try and clear the image of hairy legs rubbing together, and stuck my hands out for the bong. ‘Nothing a cone or two won’t fix,’ I said and hoped to God
that everyone would clear off in a hurry so that no one would ever know but me.

But ten minutes later Jacko and Pete waltzed out of the bedroom and headed straight over, arms draped around each other like newlyweds. Then Pete sat on Jacko’s lap. Right there, in front of everyone. Jacko wrapped his arms around Pete’s waist, puffed up his chest and stuck out his chin, daring me to say anything.

‘I’ll pack cones,’ said Pete, like he owned the place.

I felt like crying. Don’t know why. It felt like I’d lost something, worse than losing a dope deal with no money to buy more. It felt like Jacko and I would never be the same, that I could never be best mates with him again. So I pushed back my chair and left without a word. The others sat there open-mouthed as Jacko took up his usual position as commander of the bong, passing the mull-bowl to Pete. It was Jacko’s dope. What did they care who sat on his lap?

I got out of the house as fast as I could. Walked down to the river and kept going. Walked all the way back to Mum’s. We went to the loony bin and hung out with Douggie for a while. Didn’t tell him about Jacko though, didn’t know what to say. Besides, Mum was there. By the time we got back to Mum’s again, my guts were hurting so bad I could barely swallow the sausages and mash she’d cooked up specially.

At half past eight I forced myself to go home to Jacko’s, feeling sure Pete must’ve gone by then. That maybe it’d never happened, that I’d imagined it all. Or that, at the very worst, Jacko had flipped from too much acid and would’ve come to his senses and feel sick at what he’d done. Come to me and say how sorry he was.

When I got back Jacko was sitting on the couch by himself, watching the footy, like normal.

I breathed a sigh of relief. ‘So he’s gone then?’

‘Who? Oh Pete. Nah, he’s in bed. I just wanted to watch this first. Want a beer?’

‘You mean he’s still here? In your bed?’

‘Yep.’

I swallowed hard. ‘Jacko, do you know what you’re doing mate? You’re no poof. Are you?’ My voice went all sort of stupid and squeaky at the end.

‘What if I am? What’s it to you, anyway?’ he said, handing me a beer. ‘Tell you what, it’s the best fucking sex I’ve ever had. Heaps better than those loose sluts that hang round here. Or Beck the bloody virgin always sooking around over her pussy brother. Pete’s something else.’

I had to force myself not to gag on the beer in my mouth. ‘You’re joking right? You’re pulling some stunt to pay out on me, aren’t you?’ It had to be a joke.

‘Never been more serious in my life. I tell you mate, he’s totally cool. Last night
was intense. Something happened man, something crazy.’ He took a swig from his stubbie and shook his head with a smile like he was remembering something good.

‘For fuck’s sake, shut up! You’re freaking me out. What the fuck? You’re gay now is that it? All these years we’ve been best mates and really you’ve just wanted to get inside my daks?’

He laughed. ‘Fuck no! Jesus, where’d you get that stupid idea? As if I’d go anywhere near your filthy pants.’

I got up from the couch and walked over to my bedroom. ‘I can’t take any more of this bullshit. I’m going to bed and when I wake up you’re going to be Jacko again.’ I slammed the door behind me. It was all I could do to stop from screaming.

‘What’s up with Brian?’ I heard Pete ask from the bedroom.

I smoked cigarettes till my pack was empty, then wanked myself sore staring at tits and pussy, till I finally fell asleep.

I hoped it’d all be over in a day or two; that the acid would wear off and Jacko would go back to being his usual self. But every night I came home from the servo to find him and Pete snuggled up on the couch like Siamese twins. I couldn’t hack it, banged my door and didn’t come out of my room till I heard them go to bed. Then I’d come out and turn the telly up really loud so I wouldn’t have to listen to Pete’s laughter and Jacko’s moans.

It got so I could hardly bear to look at Jacko, especially after he started wearing makeup, outlining his eyes in black. Some of the young fellas started copying him, thinking they were cool. But I didn’t. I missed the old Jacko. My best mate had disappeared, swallowed whole by some guy in a puffy shirt.

After a couple of weeks of their carry on, I stayed away from the house altogether. Jacko was no fun anymore, all he wanted to talk about was Pete. I couldn’t take it. I slept back at Mum’s some nights, till she drove me mad, then over at Steve’s. But he was going strange on me too. He’d gone to some freaky church and was carrying on about how he’d been saved. Kept trying to get me to go with him. Life was shitty.

One afternoon, when I went back to the house to pick up some more of my stuff, it was just Jacko sitting on the couch. No Pete.

‘He’s gone,’ he said, smearing black
eye-shadow
all over his face with the back of his sleeve. ‘Gone to Sydney.’

‘Oh,’ I said, but inside I was giving three loud cheers. ‘Oh well. Maybe things can get back to normal now.’

‘He said he doesn’t want me to come. What’s gone wrong, man?’ He leaned over onto my shoulder, his chest shuddering.

I patted him on the back of his sweaty t-shirt. ‘Don’t worry about it mate. You’ve still got me. You’ll be right. Let’s go get a bottle of something hey? To, um… help you, you know, forget.’ Finally it had ended. I’d have my best mate back. I was going to celebrate.

‘I won’t forget. Why’s he doing this? I don’t get it. What’s his problem?’

I had to turn my head away. I couldn’t look at him like this anymore. ‘He’s no good, man. I knew it from the start, but you were so…’

‘No mate, you’ve got it wrong. He’s everything. I’m never going to get over this.’

‘Shit, what sort of talk is that? Look me in the eye,’ I grabbed his chin like he was a kid and forced him to look at me. ‘Repeat after me, “I’m going to be alright.”’

‘I’m going to be alright.’

‘There, you see. Everything’s going to be fine. Let’s go get that bottle and forget about it. I’m always here for you, you know that.’

He dragged his sleeve across his face to wipe off the snot. ‘You’re right mate. Thanks.’

So we drove up the pub and bought a couple of bottles. Steve came round with another bag of dope and we all had a great time. Just like the old days. We got Jacko to wash the shit off from around his eyes and tried to make him laugh. A couple of times it seemed like the old Jacko had come back.

Steve went home and I staggered to bed, leaving Jacko with the bottle and the bag, staring at some crappy late night movie. He seemed like he was going to be fine. I was looking forward to having my mate back, to going back to being the terrible two, just us mates. No one in between.