I followed after her, I had to. She pushed through branches and bush, using her lighter to illuminate her path. I followed her vague lighter flame as it disappeared behind every branch.
As we found ourselves nearing the bordering field, a large fire could be seen burning away amongst the frost. I joined her side and tried pulling her aside, “Can you slow down please.” I asked her.
“I’m trying to find my friends,” she replied, advancing upon the gathering of people around the bonfire. And as we got closer, I could see people approaching and throwing different belongings onto it.
It was like that old saying, out with the old, in with the new. That same old stuff. I knew Maverick was somewhere amongst this crowd, selling his little squares of glee. All I had to look for was a bright orange cap, one he had purchased while shopping around Lower Hutt Mall in Wellington.
Alice moved off to one side and began chatting to her friends, a pair of chicks and a guy that I assumed was one of the friend's boyfriends. I didn’t exactly feel welcome; so we cut ties then and there. But still no sight of Maverick.
“Here’s trouble.” said a familiar voice from behind me. I spun around and to little surprise found my brother in an intoxicated slur, one eye on me, and one looking elsewhere.
“Mav, have you managed to make a few sales?” I asked him.
“Yeah bro, I made a few.” He replied, coughing into his hand.
“How much have you made so far?” I asked as a fellow from the crowd applauded yet another possession discarded.
“I’ve sold out.” replied Maverick, “I ended up buying a bottle,” he added, showing me a bottle full of dark brown water that didn’t look anything like beer.
“What is that?” I asked him.
“What’s what?” He repeated, in a daze.
“What’s that drink,” I replied.
“Mescaline.” He laughed, “Do you wanna try some?” he offered.
“I’m good, man. I don’t fuck around with that stuff.” I stated, watching the fire burn away. Feeling the heat.
“That’s the one Hunter. You know I always respect your choice to stay straight. Not like Dad and I aye, we really let you down sometimes, but everything will be alright bro, trust.” Maverick slurred on, taking another glug.
“What’s mescaline?” I asked, watching the mixture drip down his chin.
He wiped his chin and answered, “It’s cactus juice. Takes forever to produce and you have to brew it right. If you don’t brew it right, you’re fucked. And it tastes like ass. Well, I mean it tastes like ass anyway, but yeah.” replied Maverick, with another swig. “It’s good shit though.”
I swiped the bottle from his hand, in the background it seemed some sort of hand drum had begun to bang a tune before the roaring fire, “I think you need to lay off this shit for a bit man.” I stated.
“Give me back that fuckin bottle man.” hissed Maverick, swiping for it.
“Nah mate, you’ve had too much. You look like a fool. Time to relax, and enjoy the fire. Not everything’s about drugs.” I cursed.
Suddenly that man made the rounds once more checking heads and trying to sell more of his twisted baggies, the very same he had sold to Alice.
I grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, “What was that stuff you sold us?” I asked him with a ferocious sneer.
“Sold? What?” he scampered.
“Yeah! You know exactly what I’m talking about!” I cursed further.
I couldn’t see it, but in retrospect, I guess Alice may have spotted me interrogating this man. She came running over and tried to intervene.
“What the fuck are you doing, Hunter?!” She yelled at me.
“What the fuck did you sell us, man?!” I cursed, praying for a savoury answer.
“It’s MDA, man, chill the fuck out!” he said, wrestling his collar from my grip.
People had begun to stare and notice us, amongst the banging drums and campfire singing. For a moment those nearby seemed more concerned with us. For a moment I thought that my antics may have caused a risk for Maverick and myself to be thrown out. But luckily, neither of us were noticed by either Trench or Marko.
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“So you're telling me it wasn’t meth?” I asked the dealer.
“Meth?? If it was meth I sure as shit would’ve charged more than what I had for it. Now leave me the fuck alone, you maniac.” and with that, he left and was sure to steer clear of both Myself, Maverick, and Alice also.
“What was that Hunter? You smoked some meth?” Maverick asked me.
“Nah man, it was MDA. And we snorted it.” I replied, adjusting my shirt collar and stretching my arms out towards the fire.
“You need to chill the fuck out, Hunter. You’re acting like a lunatic.” Alice scoffed, her eyes sharp and piercing.
“You’re one to talk.” laughed Mav, looking around for his bottle of mescaline, “Can you give that back to me?” he asked, while also not asking.
“Nah, man. You’re acting like an idiot.” I said to him.
“What’s this about me being a lunatic?!” Alice cursed.
“You know exactly what I mean by that, ms. Smashes plates at walls when she doesn’t get her way.” laughed Maverick.
“I only do that when You and Mum are keeping me up all night and I can’t sleep. It drives me crazy!” She argued.
“Still, it’s a pretty loopy move to start throwing plates all because we won't let you sleep in until the afternoon. Now go piss off, will you? And leave my brother alone.” Maverick mocked, becoming distracted by a guy lighting a cigarette, “Can I bum one of those of you bro?..actually, how much to buy the pack?”
I noticed Alice walk in one direction and Maverick followed after a man disinterested in selling his pack of darts, and I found myself completely alone for the first time in ages. I took a seat on one of the pallets that had been set up around the fire next to a dreadlocked man wearing sunglasses at night time, he didn’t say much of a word, just a single upward nod in greeting and went back to his craft beer bottle.
I sat in solitude, enjoying the beating of the drums. Away from individual chatter, but also in a sea of it at the same time. I looked up to the stars as they shined down upon us like a sea of wonders, and I began to think about how interesting all of this had been.
As my mind drifted away a thought entered my mind. A realisation. A realisation that had been pushed way back this past day and hadn’t been brought up since the night before. That was the luminary threat of that fang syndicate that surrounded Maverick and his life up north. It became apparent to me that Maverick would not be able to work a regular job again if he wanted to lay low.
The thing about New Zealand is that it’s an incredibly small crew. Talk to any local long enough and you’ll find someone somewhere along the track that you both know. It’s that whole idea of 2 degrees of separation.
With that being said it would be damn near impossible for Maverick to ever lead a regular life in this country. No regular job means you’re hustling, and hustling means potential jail time, and on a long enough time frame potential turns to eventual jail time, and before you know it you’re stuck behind bars where all of the wrong people know your name. It’s a terrible thing. And it meant that Maverick would be mince meat sooner or later, I had no idea how he was going to get himself out of all this. I wish I knew a way.
I watched him from across the gathering, sharing a dart with the wizard trance DJ as he bobbed his head to the drums and they chatted about something I couldn’t hear.
Eventually, those drums started to do a number on my head, it seemed I was the only one these drums had that effect on. I thought about going back to the Bus and crashing out. But I almost thought about pulling Alice to the side and having another yarn with her. What she had said about Maverick and just letting him go to live his own life and all that, had begun to sink in. I didn’t know when it did but it did, and I wanted to thank her for that.
But as I looked over towards her, it became apparent that she was occupied with her friends, and so I decided to enjoy the warm embrace of the bonfire some more as I sat on the pallet and thought of all that had been.
As I watched the flames dance and flicker as different members of the crowd walked upon it and cast different belongings into it; it appeared one man was trying to fish an old pair of jeans out of the fire. I could tell by his uneasy walk that he was on something.
What that something was, I had no clue. Regardless, as he tugged away at the fire pit, pulling the jeans free from the burning structure, a large portion of the burning wooden frame began to crumble and toppled to one side, narrowly missing a couple of bystanders.
The bystanders rushed away while the intoxicated man tried to stomp the fire out, which had now spread to one of his jeans legs. Before he could stomp the small fire all the way out Trench tackled the man to the ground while Marko extinguished the overhanging debris with a fire extinguisher.
“What the fuck are you up to mate?!” Trench cursed, his fists tightly gripping the man’s hoodie.
“I left my weed in these jeans, I was just grabbing it out!” he pleaded, presenting a small package of greenery.
“You could have set the field on fire? What kind of idiot does that?!” Trench continued.
“I’m sorry man, it’s my bad, can you let me go?” The man pleaded.
Trench gave in to his fury and began to clench his hands around the poor man’s neck, choking him. The young man began to try and pry Trenche's hands loose but found no luck.
He then tried to reach for Trenche's face, “You put those fingers near me, and I’ll bite those things off!” he warned, as his grip began to tighten and drain the man’s life.
A couple of young men rushed up and booted the side of Trenche's ribs, but the madman hung in and continued to choke his victim.
A strike with a palm to Trench's left ear, which sounded as though it was fit enough to have burst his eardrum; caused Trench to topple over to the side.
The choked man climbed from the ground and began to gasp for air, he was having immense difficulty.
Suddenly, from the rear, Marko sprayed them down with his extinguisher to which one would yell out, “Oi! What the fuck are you doing?!”
“Piss off you three! Your stay is over!” Boomed Marko, laying off the extinguisher for a moment.
The three doused men stood amid the fire, covered in white powder, wiping it from their faces and eyes. The bravest of the lot spoke up; “Like hell we are, we’ve already paid you for three days!” he argued.
“Well looks like you’ve caused three days of trouble. Now grab your things and leave, before you leave with less than you came.” gritted Marko.
“Which one of you fuckers hit me?” asked Trench, clutching at his ear.
Not one of them owned up to it, not even the brave one.
“One of you did it, which one was it?” he repeated. But still, no one would talk.
He then pulled a knife from a holster by his hip, a large hunting knife caked in presumably possum blood. “One of you’s is gonna own up, before I carve every last one of you’s.” Trench continued.
Marko approached Trench and convinced him to conceal his knife, “I suggest you three leave. I don’t think Trench is mucking around.”
The three young men spun around and began making their way through a clearing in the crowd, dusting themselves off as they went.
Next thing I know, some chick jumps out of the crowd and picks up the bag of weed that one of them had tried so hard to free from the fire.
Trench and Marko returned to their seat by Marshall and the drumming resumed. Not long after I began to smell the familiar scent of weed being smoked nearby. This crowd was mind-boggled.
Was I the only one that felt like now was the perfect time to leave? Apparently not, as those German tourists and a few others began to disperse back through the bushes path.
However, for the most part, the gathering remained intact. And had seemingly weeded out some of the lower-hanging fruit. Leaving only the seasoned veterans, and a killing of acid sales for Maverick to make tomorrow.
So long as Marshall had more to sell.