You’d be surprised how many people are willing to buy weed from a random guy at a gas station. At Least I was. Maverick didn’t seem too phased by the amount of customers he was able to pick up at each stop throughout the lower Waikato region and then later the Wellington region.
I sat in the car, always keeping it running, as Maverick buzzed about making quick sales to people at their gas pumps.
By the time we managed to get to Miramar in Wellington it had taken all afternoon and night was beginning to set it.
As it turned out there was a two-day wait on the interislander, so we had a while to kill. Suddenly something struck my attention. A phrase that those two goons had uttered, and it involved the boot of my car.
Something they’d said about putting the two car thieves in the boot. I could already sense their limp bodies decomposing, I could damn near smell it. And for a moment I thought that that may have been the reason they dumped this car on us.
We’d parked up by the seaside at Seatoun, I undid my belt and popped the boot, rushed over to the back of the car and carefully peeped inside.
But as the fate of god would have it, the boot was clean. It seemed that those two goons were just trying to spook us, and for a moment I wondered how dangerous these people were, and if a lot of it was just in Maverick's head.
Nope, the boot was bare. All except a VHS tape in the corner; my prized possession. A smile grew over my face and I picked it up and brought it inside the car.
“Have a look at that,” I said to Maverick, tossing him an old 90s VHS of a Bone Thugs and Harmony concert.
“Shit, Is this my old one?” asked Maverick, holding it in his hands.
“Yeah bro I went back and got it before they bowled the house,” I replied.
“Fuck, man. That’s actually mean. I love it. Thanks, bro.” he said warmly.
“I remember you saying that it was your most prized possession,” I stated, watching him read the back of the cover.
“Yeah man, how come you didn’t give it to me? Why do you have it?” He asked me, opening it up.
“Well, I mean…” I thought hard for a moment, “I didn’t see you for a solid few years man. I kept it in my boot on the off chance that I saw you randomly. You’re a hard person to find.” I said finally.
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“Oh yeah, well I’m glad you ended up giving it back to me. Far out, that’s mean aye I haven’t seen that since I was like 16,” he replied, placing it carefully in the back of the car.
“You said, Sherry got it for you aye?” I asked him.
“Yeah man, that’s right. Our sister. Back in the days, she picked me up from my mum's and took me down the line to this reggae festival…” he began, pulling a cigarette from the pack he’d recently bought.
“Was that raggamuffin?” I asked.
“I can’t remember. I don’t think they had that one back then, but maybe. All I remember was that Sherry had this hippie boyfriend and he had a kid that was like 3 years old that had dreadlocks and would play the bongo. It was pretty crack up.” Mav went on, sparking his cig.
“What was she like?” I asked him, putting my seat back.
“Sherry? She ended up ripping me off in the end. When I saw her later on. I haven’t heard from her in years.” replied Mav.
“True that. I don’t think I’ve seen her since I was like Ten. Would’ve been about the time that you were staying with her for a bit I think” I agreed, enjoying the seaside horizon.
Mav cleared his throat and spat out of the window, “Does that fullah Peter Jackson still live around here?” He asked me, taking another drag.
“I’m not sure. That guy has got heaps of houses though. He had one, I think it’s in NZ, but it’s on its own island. Guys rich as fuck.” I replied, opening up my door.
“Taika lives down here as well aye?” asked Mav.
“I don’t know man. Probably in America. He’s got two girlfriends.” I stated, itching the back of my neck.
“Does he? Fuckin good cunt aye.” laughed Mav.
“Nah fuck that, I’d be scared they’d try to team up and plot to kill me,” I replied, and I felt my cravings for a cigarette.
“They wouldn’t plot to kill you, bro, if you a man like that you’d be their money horse, they’d wanna bleed you for every cent you have.” laughed Mav.
“Nah man, didn’t Dad tell you, if you’re with someone for 3 years or more they are entitled to half your shit in a breakup. You don’t even have to be married.” I replied.
“Yeah that’s pretty fucked up aye, you remember Craig from the flat?” asked Mav, dragging another puff.
“Craig? The bald guy?” I asked.
“Yeah, that guy. Bro, he’s got like 4 kids, all boys. 4 different women. That’s a fuck tonne of child support man. I’m surprised he can support his P habit.” Mav snickered.
“Yeah we’ll that’s probably–“
“–Oh yeah nah, hundred percent that’s why he has it. I just don’t see how he can manage to keep rocking up to the house and score his stuff. It’s cracked.” Mav replied.
“Well, I don’t think they’ll be rocking up anytime soon.” I thought to myself.
“Where do you reckon they all went?” I asked.
“Diane and that?” asked Mav.
“Yeah,” I stated.
“Fuck knows. Who fuckin cares anyway, they were all tight cunts. I’m turning a new leaf.” Maverick replied, flicking his cigarette. “Should we bounce to a Motel?” he asked.
“Hold on, you’re gonna quit?” I asked him.
Maverick went silent for a moment, I could see the cogs turning. “I want to,” he stated.
“Really?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’ve wanted to for ages but Dad wouldn’t let me crash at his for a detox,” replied Maverick.
“How much do you have on you right now? Does rehab cost money?” I asked.
“Nah, I’m not going there.” He replied.
“Why not?” I prodded.
“Because I’m not!” he snapped. And tension grew over us. “Let’s pull up to a Motel, I gotta try to find where all the bums are.” He finished, as he reversed out of our gravel seaside park and we made our way around the hills.