Maverick spat a lungful of tar onto the gravel road, I followed after him kicking rocks. We were in certified hick county, having been stranded by our last ditch effort ditching us.
We walked past a red stop sign that had multiple bullet holes piercing its face. We had officially reached the main motorway once more.
The storm that we had waged through in the pine Forrest had moved on and paved way for a scorching sun that was beginning to blister our necks.
as we walked along the motorway that led into a horizon of forestry and dairy farms I wrapped my hunting jacket around my head; Taliban style.
I wiped sweat from my brow, “C’mon Mav, cover yourself up. It’s scorching.”
My words washed over him and instead he began to sway to one side and almost fall into approaching highway traffic.
I rushed towards him and helped him stand upright.
We then stuck our thumbs out and tried our second attempt at roadside roulette.
Unfortunately, we had no such luck in getting a ride to the next town. I suspected that my head wrap and Mavericks overall being.
Maverick kept at a slow steady pace, at first I had been leading the way, but as time went on I found myself trying to catch up to him. His stride was that of a well-oiled machine. Relentless.
As we rounded different sets of hills, walked along three straights, climbed the rise and began to descend a mountain, we saw the distant clearing of a small town in the distance.
We walked along the final long stretch of road before the town. Barely having any room between the speeding cars and a steep bank that led to one of the final farm paddocks of our rural adventure.
Occasionally one of the cars speeding past would yell stuff up as we talked to each other. Things like Fuark up, Get a car! and dog barks. None of which were helpful to my already over-stressed mind. All I wanted was a decent place to rest. I guarantee that when I could finally lay down to rest I’d probably sleep a solid 20 hours.
But first, I had to get my car. Although it seemed like something that wouldn’t be feasibly possible, somehow I thought that I would once again get behind the wheel.
Suddenly a head peeped out of one of the car windows and barked at us once again, followed by a string of obscenities. This has been the third time, and it was beginning to irk me.
It was then that I realised that both Maverick and I had Deep Set Blue T-shirts wrapped around our skulls.
“Fark! What are those things?!” Maverick blurted out in utter awe.
I turned to look over and through my tight wrap of blue fabric; I noticed a herd of sheep that had been painted a bright pink. The shade of road marker.
“Shit yeah, that’s pretty trippy.” I agreed.
“Do you reckon those fuckers are trying to start a new pink wool market?” He asked me.
“Who knows man. Probably just to bring attention to their Cafe I suppose.”
“Yeah true that aye. Fark, should we go get a coffee then?” asked Mav, stopping in his tracks.
I glanced up at him, “By the looks of it, you don’t even need one.” I replied, moving on.
“Fuck I’m broke too aye. broke as a joke bro. Need to sort some coins out ASAP.” He replied to me.
“Yeah, hard man. I need my fucking car. Do you reckon we’ll see those guys in this town?” I asked him.
“Who knows bro, they might even be halfway to Taupo by now,” Mav answered.
“Fuck that’d be pretty shit aye.” I replied, “Well, I guess the good thing is; they didn’t bother to paint the car or change the plates so I can always just report them to the cops. I think I’ll do that in this town.” I finished.
Maverick shook his head, “Don’t do that.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“We can’t go to the station,” Mav replied.
“Why?” I went on.
Maverick removed his head shield and presented his bulging, bloodshot and dilated eyes.
“Shit man, you’re tripping sack,” I replied.
“Fuckin aye I am. Did you not see all those shrooms I ate?” He laughed.
I nodded, “Yeah I did, that was pretty stupid now, wasn’t it.” I stated.
“Why do you think that is?” replied Maverick, kicking some road rocks.
“How do you think we’ll ever get picked up with you looking like that?” I asked him.
Maverick snickered, “This is the wop's man, lotta people up these ways are probably loaded. We’ll be sweet as.”
“I don’t think that's true man. Maybe the dickheads are. But most of 'em are probably retirees, or families, what young dropkick druggie would wanna waste away in a place like here?”
Mav clicked his tongue, “That’s just it man, places like here have nothing to occupy the young people. So they turn to drinking or drugs or both and before you know it they’re in a cycle that never ends, and they have no job and no means of getting out.”
I stopped for a moment. That’s a pretty interesting take, I thought to myself.
“I can’t imagine some town out here would be as bad as out south bro, or west…” I replied.
“I wouldn’t necessarily say that, but… I would say it’s probably easier to fall into substances in a place that doesn’t have much else going on. The hangouts are probably a skatepark or the local pub.” Maverick continued.
“Yeah, but still, I guarantee those people are probably boarded up right now indoors and not out during the day willing to give a couple of brothers a ride to Auckland, so it’s still a bad choice you made to take those things,” I replied.
In truth, it wasn't just the hitchhiking that worried me about Maverick's drug use. It was his overall destructive existence that seemed to be on an endless downward spiral. This was the most time I’d spent with him in over four years. Since he’d started regularly using. But it was evident now more than ever that his addiction had become even more untamed.
A welcoming sign that read Korē Korē appeared to be in a more civilised knick than the previous town. We reached a set of traffic lights at an intersection and I stood by as the light was red.
The sun was unforgiving. I felt my exposed skin begin to blister and burn under the heat. Meanwhile, it seemed that Maverick was equally unforgiving to road rules and began to run and weave through flowing traffic, but no one dared to yell out their window and curse in this township. I followed after him.
“What the fuck are doing Mav? You’re gonna get yourself killed mate.” I cursed at him as we made our way to the footpath on the other side.
“Who gives a fuck man. I’ve got places to be. They can wait.” said Maverick, then jogging across to the path that led into town. “C'mon let’s go get a feed.”
“Do you have money?” I asked.
“Nah. We don’t need it,” replied Mav, putting his shirt back on as we walked past a family. I did the same.
For the most part, this town seemed pretty empty. Shop wise I mean. A fish-n-chip shop here, a hunting and tackle store there, but not much else.
“How are you gonna get food without dosh?” I asked him.
“We’re gonna hit up a supermarket and grab some tuna.” He replied, searching the landscape long and wide for a supermarket building.
“What? Like Tuna in a can?” I asked, chasing up to him.
“Yeah, no shit.” He spat.
“Easy. I was just asking.” I replied.
Maverick reached down and picked up a cigarette butt from the street gutter, brushed it off and asked a local pedestrian for a lighter. He burnt the germs off the filter and sparked the stubbed-out smokable part, then handed the lighter back.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I advised him.
He didn’t listen.
“I had a mate that did that and he got glandular fever for about a week. That was from picking up butts.”
Maverick ignored me completely and lit it up, savouring all but a handful of puffs.
“I could go for a beer in this heat aye,” I stated.
Maverick flexed his eyebrows and made his way through a gap in a fence.
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We found ourselves at the back of a grocery store loading bay. An unforeseen jackpot. It seemed like the loaders must’ve taken a smoko break.
Maverick quickly hurried up to a pallet that held a 12-pack of beers and began tearing into its plastic. I stood by.
He wiggled out a box, and then another, he then chucked one into my arms and we hurried back to the gapped fence with one each.
We walked along an old bridge that had a green river running underneath. Once we got to the end we passed down a flight of concrete stairs which led us to a riverside walkway that ran alongside the entirety of the township.
We eventually arrived at a Park and sat up atop the park hill on an old wooden park bench. And Maverick cracked his first beer of the day, as we overlooked the township.
He savoured his first sip, then glugged back the rest. I sat twiddling my thumbs, as a dog walker walked past shaking their head.
“Wonder if Teddy still lives around here.” pondered Mav, before grabbing a second bottle.
“Who’s Teddy?” I asked.
“He’s this guy I used to know up here. Back when I was in the boy's home.” He elaborated, cracking his second beer open.
“He was staying near here, not sure if I can remember the house, used to get stoned at this park every night when I snuck out with a couple of the boys.”
“That’s right, you were in a boy's home for a few years aye?” I replied. As I grabbed a bottle from my box.
“Yep,” stated Maverick, staring off into the distance, and passing me his lighter.
“How long were you in the boy's homes for? I always thought you were just at your mum's for all those years.” I asked him, cracking my beer open and stopping the foam eruption with a sip.
“I went to a few. One of them was up here. This guy had like ten of us boys in this house. All went to the local high school. One of the boys In there, his name was Jack, used to live getting drunk on vanilla essence aye.” Mav laughed as he reminisced.
“Are you serious? Does that work?” I queried.
“Yeah, it works. But unless you’re gonna shoplift it, you might as well get a box at that point.” Maverick answered, fluffing from his bottle.
“Alright, come on,” said Mav, as he led the way along a pathway that led to the back of a side street in a neighbourhood. We walked along a street, Maverick keeping an eye out for a particular dwelling. I walked beside him.
“This other kid named Francis was the first one of us to get San Andreas. We jammed that one early in the mornings before school. Once our fosterer found it though, he got rid of it. He got rid of all my games as well, was pretty pissed off at that.” Mav continued, looking across as we passed rows of houses.
“True…bro, do you remember that game we used to have? The PS1 game, I think it was Tomba? Man, that game is worth heaps now aye.” I shared.
“Is it?” He asked quickly, “Oh yup, this is the house. I think.” said Mav, stopping at a fenced section with an old single-story home.
The home had a low deck out front, with many hoarded pot plants lying around everywhere. A garden Buddha statue and a Yin Yang shrine. The lounge window faced us as an old woman sat and slept while watching TV.
We approached the front door and Maverick firmly knocked on it.
A young girl answered the door, “Who are you?” She asked cautiously.
“I’m Maverick. Is your brother Teddy here?” Maverick asked her, trying not to look scary.
“Oi! Get back to your room.” ordered the old woman from the lounge, as she approached the front door in a dressing gown.
“Who are you?” She asked, rubbing her eyes and allowing them to adjust to the light.
“Hi, my name's Mav, this is my brother Hunter. Was just wondering if Teddy was about?” asked Maverick.
The old woman nodded, “Yeah, he’s around the back in the sleepout.”
“Sweet, thank you,” replied Mav, making his way back off the porch and around the house.
The old lady shut the door again and locked it, and I quickly followed after Mav.
Around the back, there was a garden full of vegetables of all kinds. The grass around the garden box was unkempt and wild, and there were numerous grapefruit and orange trees in the cramped section.
The sleepout that the Old woman had described appeared to resemble more closely that of a garden shed with corrugated wall clad.
As we approached the shed, a man around Maverick's age opened the door. His hair was blonde and wavy, his eyes bloodshot with light blue pupils, his beard braided to resemble that of a wizard or warlock, and he wore a tattered blue plaid button-up. “Is that you, Mav?” He asked in a dry croaky voice.
“Sup Teddy, how’s it been?” asked Mav, embracing Teddy in a handshake. “This is my brother Hunter.”
“Hey, man.” I greeted him, shaking his hand.
“Fuck you’ve gotten pretty tall aye? Trips me out.” Teddy told Mav.
“Yeah man, I shot up when I turned like 16,” replied Mav.
“Yeah hard, you were the smallest of us all back when I last seen you. Come in if you want bro, not much room but I got a couple seats.” Teddy offered.
We entered his small garden shed. There were psychedelic black light posters strewn across the walls. A centred pallet table with a bong, a chop bowl with weed inside it. A bottle of water, some scissors, and an old-school tobacco tin. The room smelled dank and musty. He passed us a couple of beer crates to use as seats and took one for himself.
“Want a cone bro?” Teddy offered, packing one for himself.
“Nah I’m sweet bro.” Replied Maverick.
“Yeah, I’m good.” I agreed.
Teddy lit his cone and pulled it through in one, rushing to the door to blow it outside, then took his seat on the beer crate once again.
“So what have you been up to all these years?” asked Teddy.
“Just scaffolding bro. Living out west.” Mav shared.
“Oh yeah, true. That’s pretty trippy. Did you hear about old Francis?” Teddy asked.
“Nah, what happened?” asked Maverick.
“He got into a crash about a year back while he was drunk and killed a mother and her child. Ended up getting like 15 years for it.” Teddy answered.
Mav’s face jolted, “Fuck! True that!? That’s pretty ruthless aye...”
“Yeah man, was all through the newspapers but he got name suppression. We all knew who it was though, word gets around here quickly.” Teddy went on.
“Yeah, fuckin Oath. What a fuckin idiot man, that poor family.” Maverick agreed.
“Yep, crazy shit that is. Doubt he’s having a good time in there 'cause I think she was connected in some way or the other.” Teddy continued, as he began to roll a cigarette.
Maverick's eyes flickered, “Can I pinch a dart bro?”
Teddy passed him the pouch, then lit his smoke.
“Is old Gracie still about?” asked Mav, rolling his smoke.
“Grace? Who…oh! You mean Grace Jones?” asked Teddy, asking his cigarette on his dinghy carpet.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” Mav stated, lighting his durry.
“Fuck, nah bro. Damn. She got done about ten years ago and got her license revoked and a massive fine. Haven’t heard anything since.” Teddy answered, and ashed his cigarette on the carpet once more, rubbing it in with his slipper.
Mav let out a deep fit of laughter. Teddy joined him, “Well I suppose that’s what happens aye. You’re stealing morphine from work and bringing it home to your addict husband, aye?”
“Yeah, shit yeah man.” Maverick snickered, “Where should I ash this?” He asked Teddy.
“The carpet.” Answered Teddy in a nonchalant tone.
“The Carpet?” Maverick repeated.
“Yeah man, helps it grow.” insisted Teddy.
“Does it actually?” I asked.
A silence fell over us. Then Mav broke it; “Carpet doesn’t grow ya fuckin ballbag.” he laughed, as he ashed onto the carpet.
I felt like I needed to get some fresh air, so I went outside and stretched under the high sun. This day should have been something else, I thought to myself.
A black cat came up to me and I began to scratch its neck, it began to purr as I continued to scratch. My nose began to drip, and I wiped it dry.
Just what I needed. A cold. Suddenly I realised that I hadn’t given my boss a call about why I hadn’t been to work the last two days.
I couldn’t recall the for the life of me. Friday? If it was Friday, that meant that the rent was due yesterday. Suddenly I began to wonder if my two flatmates had filed a missing persons report. Better yet, my car.
My fucking car man. Absolutely fuming. Wasn’t just my car though, it was everything along with it, including my special possession. Now more than ever I wish I woulda just given it to Maverick when I had the chance.
I gave the cat a couple more ear scratches, moved back inside the garden shed and took my seat on the crate.
“…Damn bro, if you’d asked about a week ago maybe. But I sold my car last week.” Teddy stated, packing a cone.
Maverick sipped on his beer, “Damn, that’d be right, wouldn’t it.” he replied, between sips. His eyes met mine, “Might as well start drinking Hunter, they’ll get warm otherwise.” He added.
“I’m not really in the mood to drink man,” I stated, crossing my ankles.
“Why not?” Maverick asked, taking a large gulp. Teddy began to rip his cone.
“Just got a lot on my mind at the moment,” I spoke frankly.
Maverick clicked his tongue, “Sounds like the perfect reason to drink. It chills you out.”
“Are you sure you don’t wanna cone, bro? That’s what I do to relieve stress,” mentioned Teddy, before erupting into a fit of coughs.
“Nah man, I’m good.” I insisted, “I’d probably just be keen to get back on the road. I have some things I need to sort out.”
“What have you got to do?” asked Maverick, in a plain look of confusion.
“Where have you been the last couple days? I need to pay rent, ring my boss, and if I can; report my car stolen.” I winged.
“Sounds like you could just do all that here bro. Have you got a phone, Teddy?” Mav asked.
“Yeah bro, hard.” Replied Teddy, patting himself down for his phone.
“Nah man, I just wanna get back home. Got a lot on my mind. I just wanna be in my bed right now…” I continued.
“You’re all good bro, just chill out,” Teddy insisted, working his phone.
“Chill out aye? I just got tied to a tree, butt ass naked, my cars stolen, I’ve got no way home and now I’m in some random cunts garden shed.” I spat.
“Some cunt? Do you even know Teddy’s lore? This guys the man!” Maverick roared, necking another bottle.
“Nah man, I’m leaving now. With, or without you.” I stated, standing to my feet.
Maverick nodded, with his arms folded, “Yeah, alright man, alright. Think this is us Teddy, don’t know when I’ll see you next but hopefully, it doesn’t take as long to bump into each other next time, aye?”
“Yeah hard bro, sounds good. Anyway, you know where to find me. Take care, bro.” Teddy said as he slapped hands with Maverick. He flicked his eyes over to me, “Nice to meet you, man.”
“Likewise,” I replied, leaving the garden shed.
I moved out of the garden shed and back along the driveway. Maverick followed after me, carrying both boxes.
“Oi! Fuck knuckle! Hold your box!” Maverick ordered, holding one of them towards me.
“I’m good man, just leave it. Give it to Teddy. Whatever.” I replied, turning back around and continuing to the road.
“Nah, nah, don’t be like that, just grab it,” Maverick said once more, shaking the box around in one hand.
“Well, I don’t want it now,” I stated.
“Why’s that?” He asked me, lowering it.
“Because. You just shook all the bottles up, I’m not opening those.” I said.
“…Alright. Well, I’d still appreciate it if you helped carry the load, these are getting heavy.” Maverick continued and began to lightly pant as we re-entered the township park and walked along the pathway.
As we walked towards the seat where Mav and I had sat as he shared his childhood memories with me, it became apparent that a group of young hoodlums were now sharing a joint around the seat.
We attempted to ignore them, but the apparent ringleader called out to us as we walked past them. He said to us; “Gis a beer, Mate.”
Mav turned to him, reached into the box and chucked one towards him.
All of a sudden like a flock of seagulls to a lone piece of bread, they all started to beg for a bottle.
“Nah, get fucked.” Maverick laughed, as we continued.
Those words ruffled a few feathers amongst the juveniles, as they began to whisper amongst themselves and the leader that’d been given a bottle; cracked it open with his teeth and began to skull it back.
We reached the bottom of the park hill, where the park met a car park and were about to continue towards the far side of town.
When suddenly a bottle came hurling through the air and shattered into a cluster of shards beside us.
Maverick spun around to face the uphill culprits. “Which one of you fuckers did that?” He snarled.
“It was me.” said the delinquent leader, with a daring smirk across his face.
Maverick began making his way back up the park hill towards the group. I hurried after him and attempted to drag him back towards the township.
But he threw me off and continued towards them. The boys quickly scurried off. And Maverick yelled out; “Fuckin Pussies!” before turning back around to face the car park.
As a twist of fate, two police officers stepped out of an undercover patrol car from inside the empty car park and made their way towards us.
Maverick decided to stand where he was, so I stayed with him. The police officers closed in on us. And gave Maverick and I a look over.
“Looks like you’ve got yourself a box of beers.” One of the cops said.
“That’s because I do,” Maverick remarked in a sarcastic slur.
“Looks to me like it’s open. I'm gonna need you to tip those out.” said the Cop, matching Maverick's tone.
Maverick kept his eyes locked on the officer, Plucking a bottle from his open box. Cracked it open with his yellow teeth, and began pouring it out. But as he did, he quickly held his head under it, as if to collect a liquor waterfall in his mouth.
The cop smacked the bottle out of Maverick's hand and threw him head-first onto the ground, quickly diving on top of him.
Naturally, I took a step forward, brotherly instinct. But as I did so the remaining cop grabbed me from behind and swept my leg. As I toppled onto the concrete path, the officer ploughed his knee into the back of my neck.
And I felt cuffs fasten tightly around my wrists, cutting off circulation.
They then threw the pair of us into the back of the squad car and pulled out from the Korē Korē Township park.