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SECTION 3 - CHAPTER 5: THE WORLD WINS AND I SPIN

SECTION 3 - CHAPTER 5: THE WORLD WINS AND I SPIN

I sat before the bonfires warm embrace for as long as it stood. Once it had reduced to a pile of smouldering embers I decided to move back into the shelter of the bus, as did many others from around the fire.

I sat in the bottom bunk of the bus, bent up against a wall, looking around, noticing every little audible sound that the bus would make, while Maverick was overhead, probably counting up his pay.

I peered my head over the edge of the bunk up at my brother who was counting his money for the fourth time in a row. It seemed he had kept losing count.

“What’s the haps?” I asked him.

“Not a lot, just chilling…go to bed man. You must be tired..” He replied, starting a new pile.

“I don’t think I’ll be getting any sleep tonight,” I answered, looking at my brother's absent gaze.

“What do you mean? What’d you take?” he asked further, shuffling his note piles around.

“I think it might have been your drug of choice,” I replied. Gripping the edge of his bunk bed tightly, as if to tear it off.

Maverick snapped his neck towards me, his jaw-dropping into an intoxicated swirl of both despair and anger, “You’re joking?” he asked me.

“I’m not certain, the guy said it was MA, then it was MDA, and then this and that. I don’t know to be honest.” I finished, feeling the vibe right now.

“MDA is just weaker Md, you’ll be sweet.” replied Maverick, “But can you count this money?” he added.

“You counted it like five times now,” I responded, shifting the piles closer to me. It was hands down the most I’d seen in physical cash. High roller drug dealer types. “And that’s just what he said man, I think he might have been trying to weasel his way out of it.” I continued, as I counted a stack of twenties.

Maverick pressed his fingers into his eyes, and then his eyes grew wider than ever before, “Who was he?” he asked me.

“I don’t know, just some guy,” I replied.

“If you want me to help you out you gotta give me more than that, Hunter.” He answered, looking off into the distance.

“You’re not gonna kill him are ya?” I asked, my blood begin to thicken.

“I don’t know..maybe…nah, nah I ain’t actually,” he stated, reading my expression.

“It’s funny, isn’t it? How you act when you think your younger bros gotten a hold of the stuff? But then you’ll just carry on with it, not caring at all about how your addiction hurts us.”I spoke, with a light smirk.

“Us? Whose us?” asked Maverick.

“Your family. You just go off and hang with your dickhead mates instead and it seems like you’ve wound yourself up in a lot of trouble. You’re gonna have to hide somewhere bro, I don’t know how long you can hide for.” I continued, and my jaw began to ache from all the gurning.

“Don’t worry about me Hunter, I got a plan,” replied Maverick with a gleam in his eye.

“What plan?” I asked him, losing track of the total cash I’d counted.

“I can’t say. But all I’m gonna say is I need a passport asap. Do you know how to order a fake one off the deep web, I need it soon as.” Maverick asked, grimacing in anticipation.

I paused counting, looked at my brother, and snickered, “For a start, you’d need an address. I don’t think you have one do you?” I answered.

I watched as his eyes flicked back and forth in the back of his skull, really putting his mind to the test, “I can get one of those PO boxes.” He replied, clearing his throat, opening up the bus window nearby, and hoicking out of it.

“I’m pretty sure you’d need a nearby address for that, wouldn’t you?” I asked him, counting past 2 grand.

“Nah, I don’t think so. Those things are for people that don’t have mailboxes.” Maverick answered. Tapping his lighter.

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“Yeah but don’t you need an address still, and no doubt you’ll need ID, do you have either of those?” I asked him.

“I don’t…but you do,” he said, with a big grin, still tapping his lighter.

I caught his drift, “Why do you need a passport anyway man? It’s not like you’ll be able to survive overseas for too long. Besides, I saw your record in that cop station, it’s no joke bro. Where do you expect to be able to travel to?”

Maverick stopped tapping his lighter, “Thailand. I’m gonna pick up Muay Thai again.”

“What the fuck are you on about?” I spoke with absolute confusion, “You have metal in your back from that car crash, you wanna go fight Muay Thai in Thailand?” I repeated.

“The way you say it you make me sound like I’m crazy.” laughed Maverick.

“Yeah, because you are. And where do you expect to get all of the money to survive over there?” I asked further, my eyes wide in disbelief.

“Well, I suppose I’ll just hustle in any way I can. There's a million ways to make a million Baht over there.” he answered me, Suddenly he began licking his lips, “Who's got a beer, do you feel like a beer?” he said, changing the subject.

“Nah mate, you can’t go to Thailand and kickbox. Maybe if you wanna go for a bit and lay low, but if you're going to hop in the ring they’re just gonna hospitalise you and you’ll have to pay a fuck tonne in hospital fees. They take advantage of foreigners.” I argued.

“Just chill Hunter, It's not like I’ll be fighting the K-1 kickboxing champ, I’ll start with some small-time villagers and work my way up. It’s been ages since I’ve been in the ring.” He continued, brushing off my words and hopping off his bed to try and find a beer.

We moved through the beaded curtain and into the lounge area of the bus. Marshall was lying on his side, passed out drunk, a forty of Vodka gripped tightly in his mits.

Maverick wiggled it out of his hands and took a few gulps, before leading us back into the back bedroom.

“How much cash do I have anyway?” He asked me, picking the notes from his bed and placing them in his side bag.

“I think you have come to 7 grand.” I replied, “What happened to the rest? Aren’t you supposed to have more like 10?”

“I ended up buying some stuff,” replied Maverick.

“What stuff?” I asked.

“What do you think?” He scoffed.

I clicked instantly, “That's not good man! Marshall said he needed every tab accounted for.” I yelled in a whisper.

“Fuck Marshall.” laughed Maverick, “I sold out in one day, I’m gonna see if he has anything else for me to sell. The first thing I’ll do is start selling my weed in the morning to all the stoners and as the night progresses I’ll start selling the harder stuff.” Mav planned aloud.

“Yeah, that's all fine and dandy, but Marshalls our ride back to my car in the mechanics I replied.

“Oh…that piece of shit?” Maverick stated, “Well, it's not like it's really worth much, how about we cut that thing loose, I’ll get you a new one.” he offered me.

“Nah man, we can’t do that, Dad will be pissed, plus it's got your gift in there remember that Videotape,” I replied, my jaw still uncontrollable.

“Fuck both of those things, man, you think I care about a videotape? Who cares bro, we could be over in fuckin Thailand by the end of this. And if you can’t sus me a passport I’ll just go over in a shipping container bro.” Mav continued, he passed me a piece of gum, “Chew on that, your teeth are gonna hurt in the morning.”

I slipped the gum into my mouth. “That shipping container talk is worse than the actual passport talk aye, why don’t you just move away down in Invercargill and start a new life? No one will look for you down there, it's too damn cold, anyway.” I advised, chewing heavily on the gum.

“Because fuck freezing my ass off in the cold, I’d rather chill in Thailand and do a shit tonne of cheap drugs, fuck cheap hookers, and stay in different hotels living like a king, its the dream,” replied Maverick, fire burning in his eyes.

I shook my head, “Well I’ll tell you this much, if you get caught doing your drugs over there, you’ll end up in prison for like 20 or 30 years man. And if you fuck some Thai hooker you’ll probably just get Aids.”

“Yeah, that's classic, isn’t it? Always focussing on the negatives, fuck that, why don’t you ever come to the table with any optimism?” gritted Maverick.

“Maybe because everything you bring to the table is out the gate, every single fucking time. It’s starting to get tiring man, I’m getting sick of having to worry and almost look after you man.” I vented.

“Bro I’m a grown-ass man, I don’t need you to look after me, we’re from different cloths bro. You were raised by your mum while I was being raised in boys' homes all over the country. This is standard, If you’re not used to any of this stuff, that's fine. But I am bro, so don’t try to come into my life and act like you know how I should be living it. I know how to get through these things.” he replied.

I didn’t know what to say. At first, it’d been Alice who had spoken to me about letting Maverick go about his habits and drive himself to rock bottom, and now the man himself was also saying that, though he didn’t seem to realise that he was on an almost manic downward spiral.

“If that's how you see things man…alright,”

“In life there are two doors. First, there’s the left door. The next is the right door. The right door is just after the left door. But the right door isn’t always right. Sometimes it’s better to take a leap of faith with that first door, because the right time never comes.” Mav rambled.

I was heavily confused with what this man was trying to tell me. I guess I had to think about it a bit. Maybe it’d make more sense..

Mav gripped my shoulder with his boney fingertips, “If there’s something you want, it’s always worth taking the risk. The risk is almost always worth it. If you ever need to know about anything in this world come straight to me, alright? Don’t listen to any of these other people that only have outsider experience. Listen to me. Alright man?”

I didn’t know what to say, half of me wanted to dismiss it as another manic rambling. Which is kind of a funny thought considering I was the one between us that had psychiatric history. And then a thought came to my head. Offering his advice as the centrepiece I decided to take the left door and ask him off the bat; “Am I the reason you started using?”

I watched as his face slackened and he slumped into his bed, back pressed hard against the bus wall. His eyes glazed over and tired he responded; “Nah man, not one bit.”

I absorbed his words. Nodded. And continued; “Seeing me in hospital didn’t cause you to start using all this stuff?” I repeated.

“Why would it?” He asked condescendingly confused. Mav then cleared his throat, “Listen to what I say though. Alright? Don’t be filled with a bunch of parts of yourself where you’re just looking back looking at all the different things you could’ve done and said and what if and what could. Live how you want to live, and fuck everyone else. It’s your life man, you gotta be the master of your own life. Take the left door, always.” He went on.

I felt my eyes falling into the back of my head, as I swayed one side to the other. Whatever I had taken was real strong stuff.

“If I had to offer you one bit of advice besides that. Maybe stay away from the hard stuff. Stick with weed and liquor. That’ll set you straight.” I thought I heard him say that. But by then I had fallen forward onto my bed. I felt the blanket wrap around me and my mind drifting. I felt as though I were an eagle gliding across a lake. But at the same time I was sinking, I was sinking into the depths of a lake engulfed in warmth and love. I had no enemies, and I knew exactly what I needed to do, but at the same time I knew nothing. And then I was nothing. I drifted off to sleep. The birds beginning to chirp.