Thunderbird

By Neil Hunter

This story takes us back to the 1990s where our hero Tex is starting university and making new friends. Like most teenagers he doesn't know what life holds in store for him. Tex is having a hard time distinguishing life between his past and future. Can he finish university, or are the temptations around him going to derail his future? By the end of the story this is a tale not to be forgotten. Bold and insightful, Thunderbird is sure to become a bestseller.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Apr 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9781796000412

Neil Hunter

Neil Hunter is, in fact, the prolific Lancashire-born writer Michael R. Linaker. As Neil Hunter, Mike wrote two classic western series, BODIE THE STALKER and JASON BRAND. Under the name Richard Wyler he produced four stand-alone westerns, INCIDENT AT BUTLER’S STATION, THE SAVAGE JOURNEY, BRIGHAM’S WAY and TRAVIS.

Book preview

ONE

CHAPTER

BODIES OF LIFE HAVE TWISTED TAILS

A BODY FULL OF PRESENT KNOWLEDGE

A MIND FULL OF THINGS TO COME

THE TAILS ARE TENUOUS IN PLACES; INSUBSTANTIAL

YET HAVE MORE MEANING THAN THE BODY

THEY HAVE BEEN DONE

TANGIBLE YET TENUOUS

MEMORIES INTANGIBLE YET SENSUOUS

THIS IS YOUR SPIRIT

BODIES OF LIFE MAY MEET

YET THE TAILS CANNOT. THEY MAY ENTWINE

IN PLACES: BUT THE WEIGHT OF ENTITY RIPS ASUNDER

ENTITY IS ESSENCE; NATURE

AS THE BODY GROWS THE MIND DROOPS STREAMS

THIS IS THE SPOOR OF EMOTION

I ENCOUNTERED A BODY WHO CALLED IT GOD

IN THIS, THE WORLD OF OUR MAKING

BODIES OF LIFE WE TRAVEL FAR

AND MIX THE SPOORS AND TRAILS

INDIVIDUALS WITHIN BUT BOUND BY FATE

BLUE SKY AND FLUFFY CLOUDS

ALL ELECTRIC, WOOD AND SAND

WE WISH FOR MORE WE HAVE

SOON THE TRUTH WILL THRUST UPON

AND DEATH OPEN OUR EYES

I HAD A BODY OF LIFE ONCE

SO VERY LONG AGO

NOW MEMORIES SHROUD ITS PATH

AND THE LIGHT THAT DID GLOW

SO I STUMBLE ON IN DARKNESS

SLOWLY MAKING GROUND

TOMORROW THIS WILL END

AND I BEGIN TO GROW

A BODY FULL OF LIFE

I t was the 90’s. Like minded souls were connecting in typical fashion. The first night of University in the south island of New Zealand. Bonds bound them with common purpose - getting drunk.

Playing with two six sided dice Tex rolled a 21. Golden liquid spilt consciously over chins, clothes and the carpet. As one the room called out Mexie!. It was loud enough to be heard in the stairwell down the hall. The game was named from the Mexican jokes. Each dot on the dice supposed to look like a Mexican on siesta from above. For now it was siesta time.

Rolling a 21 meant the loser (lowest roll) would drink again. In addition Tex re-rolled, retaining one of his three allocated turns. He loved this game and enjoyed sharing it. With three rolls possible he could choose when to stop. That would determine the maximum for the round. If an event happened like Mexican (21) he must re-roll. New ground was being broken. Who knew drinking was so much fun? Or University for that matter. Life was a box full of surprises.

Tex had been an alcohol drinker as long as he could remember. This period included some memories he liked to scroll through now and then as he journeyed through life. As a five year old boy living in Sudan he would be allowed to drink Babycham. This drink was a Champaign hybrid that came in a bottle. Early on he had learnt to convince bartenders that the bottle said no alcohol. It ended up he was constantly drinking in public. The adults were not going to drink Babycham. Men saw it as a woman’s drink. Women did not want to be type-cast. That started back in the late 70’s. Pitching it as a non-alcoholic drink he caught a break. It was not a bad scam at the time.

This was when his family had lived in Khartoumn. They spent a lot of time at an Ex-pat establishment called The Sudan Club. Tex drank a lot of the local beer – Tusker – purely because most people did not like the taste. He was not shy of taking leftover bottles for himself. Also most people were happy to let him drink and found it amusing. He also started smoking at this time. Tex had lived an interesting life. Sharing these experiences however was another story.

Tex had a lot of experience with alcohol and introducing people to drink. He decided to take a lead role and to teach the students his favorite drinking game. Despite this he tried to stay in the background as much as possible. If you rolled a number that made someone drink you would roll again basically rewarding you for doing it. A neutral number and you would lose one of your three lives. Your highest neutral number was your score. You could stop on a neutral number and forfeit any remaining lives. You started the round with three lives. The number of lives the starter used was the same for everyone that round. Once your turn was finished you passed the dice to your left. The lowest score drank and started again plus a drink for every Mexican (2/1) rolled that round.

Most people instinctively held a high number to prevent drinking but Tex always went to the end. It was good for laughs and he could hold his liquor. As he had rolled a 21 he took his first roll again. Rolling a Mexie meant the lowest thrower would have that extra drink. The amount you drink was of course down to each person’s discretion but generally the game was more fun with several Mexies’ riding.

Tex rolled a 32 ‘Scumbag’s Brother’.

32 Tex said Person to the right consume.

A 31 was ‘Scumbag’ and Tex would have been the one drinking.

Twenty odd eyes in the room watched the ‘Scumbag’s Brother’ a blonde hippy girl consume. Tex continued and rolled a double one.

Snake Eyes. Nominate a drink. Micky - the hippie girl - half whispered into Tex’s ear. She was stoked she knew all the rules now. Snake eyes was the last one she’d learnt.

Tex gave the extra drink to the bloke on his left. Watching Chad drink Tex also raised the glass to his lips and took a quaff. The cold beer drained down his throat and deep into his stomach. There was something satisfying to him about being so saturated with liquid. Maybe in the after-life it would be possible to breathe water and if so then possibly beer! He could picture what it was like to be submersed in water and have liquid in your lungs. It would be amazing.

The University Hostel rules stated no more than a six-pack per person. Another rule was no parties. According to the list three people in a room was a party. These students themselves agreed they could happily fuck that and enjoy themselves before a productive year of study. The stereo facing the closed door meant anyone outside knew nothing of the scale on the inside activity.

Taking his leather jacket off and putting his most loved garment in a puddle of beer Tex rolled the two black and white dice. They hit the carpet and collided. Simultaneously flying in separate directions. His eyes did the splits as one skittered to a halt with a three uppermost. The other landed in someone’s jam jar. He could not see whose and was well natured enough not to care.

As the instigator of the incident Tex was informed he had to consume the entire vessel in question in order to retrieve the die. The dice would pass to his left. For those following the rules this was a drinking game not a form of government. The attractive hippie chick (who had introduced herself as Micky) leaned over Tex’s shoulder from the bed she sat on and informed him to Skull and she passed him the vessel.

A multitude of elbows pointed at her CONSUME was the call. The International Rules of Mexican stated you could not say ‘Skull’ (a word universally meaning drink) or the word ‘Drink’ also with the same meaning. Swearing and pointing was prohibited. Using your elbow was an accepted alternative to pointing. Some players found themselves pointing with their elbow the next day.

Tex hadn’t brought it up earlier when Micky had said Drink. He was trying to be a gentleman. The word ‘Consume’ was universally used as an alternative to ‘Drink’. Swearing being an offence was also fun to play with.

The rules were second nature to Tex. He had made the rules up himself during a drinking session while at Boarding School in a local’s garage. They had decided there should be a good drinking game to play with dice and had gone from there. Since then Tex had taken the opportunity to pass the rules on to those interested. It was something that normally happened when there was enough around to drink. Tex met people who played the game he had never met before.

Quickly appropriating the Jam Jar from Micky before she used it herself and whilst briefly looking at its saliva lined lip he lifted it to his lips and swallowed the contents. It had a watery feel as it swilled against his top lip and the thin edge of froth lined it like scum in a sink. Dousing his mouth with a bubbly, slightly malty taste it soothed the edges of his throat making him feel like he had been shouting himself hoarse that night to get himself needing refreshment so badly. The dregs of the vessel deserved their name and soon resided in the pit of his belly. More he needed – more I tell you!

Fresh air and beer filled their throats as they revelled in this new found freedom. Tex needed it as much as any. As the game progressed one by one they made sure everything stayed on track and everyone knew the correct rules. Of the two figures on the dice the highest was always used as the first number. The lowest throw possible was snake eyes being 1/1 followed by Mexican 2/1 and double two 2/2. Double numbers meant you nominated as many Skulls. So a double three meant you could give one person three drinks or three people a drink each. A Mexican meant everybody had to Skull and the loser / winner (lowest throw) an extra drink. If there was more than one person with the lowest number thrown then they would roll one dice each with the highest thrower eliminated each round as required.

Non scoring (neutral) rolls meant you lost one of three lives. You could pass the dice early if you wanted. The lowest was 4/1 and the highest 6/5. The lowest score after everybody rolled had to Skull once, plus any Mexicans for the round, and then start again. Every Mexican in the round meant an extra drink but only as much as comfortable for the player. All drinks must be finished before the next dice roll. This included Snake Eyes, Doubles, Scumbags and Mexicans.

All rules were open to interpretation so if you wanted Snake Eyes to be a universal drink then that was totally acceptable. Another rule Tex liked was that if you rolled three events (non-neutral) throws in a row then you made a rule. This could be that on a Mexie everybody drinks or no-one could say ‘Elizabeth’. You could also use this power to negate previous rules. The power was frightening. Universal rules could also apply like ‘No Pointing’ or ‘No Swearing’ from the start of the game. Universal rules were also open to interpretation as decided at the time.

The opening roller decided if they stopped after one, two or three rolls. If they kept a roll then that was the maximum number for the round. If they didn’t keep a throw the next roll would become the number of rolls for the round. No-one could have more neutral rolls than the first person that round.

Should they roll a number that did something like a Scumbag or Doubles they were not counted for their number of neutral rolls. So if you decided you didn’t want to drink and you rolled 6/5 on your first roll then you could pass the dice. Everyone else on that round would have to beat that score on one roll. Two people on the lowest number at the end would have a roll off.

If you were like Tex you’d keep trying to get a Mexican until you had no rolls left.

Another rule was you could hold a number. If Tex rolled a 5/2 he could hold the 2 and roll one dice if he had one of his three rolls remaining. This could mean a Mexican, Double Two, Scumbag’s Brother, 4/2, 5/2 or 6/2. In essence a 50% chance of another roll if you held a 2. There would be no point of holding a 4 unless you were really thirsty or just not a team player. Of course once you beat a target you would pass the dice.

Surveying the players in the small room Tex agreed with the sentiment that magic was in the mind however it may manifest. As he trusted in the dice his shots became increasingly skilled. Small things could increase his chances of the rolls required. Keeping the required number high in hand was one he liked. He had found that to go from the top of the dice to the bottom was less likely for the number on top than the one underneath. Obviously it would have to turn over not once but twice as the design hinted without telling. As it turned there were four more likely numbers than the bottom number. So he could throw the dice sideways rather than head or tail.

Also by firing the shot of someone’s shoe the dice stopped quicker also lessening the chances of totally rotating top to bottom. Thus the number you didn’t want should go to the bottom. It was a rough science but he had enjoyable luck with the dice. Others seemed to notice. By being positive and enjoying the game rather than withdrawing or being negative he enjoyed it and buoyed his spirits.

He remembered playing Russian Roulette as a boy in Saudi Arabia. They had lived in Jeddah. Drowning those memories in alcohol was a great way to recover. Talking to people through the rules of the game he was avoiding talking about the things forefront on his mind. He had two realities to deal with and it made him stronger. The truth was he could express his true feelings but not the motivation behind them. Even touching slightly on the subjects got rapid disapproval and reaction.

Take Russian Roulette as an example. At some point one of the players was going to lose. Tex could explain he wasn’t given a choice but he didn’t expect anyone to believe him. No, he was at University to show he was intelligent and therefore sane. He had hidden his memories all along to get here and he intended on staying the course. The harder and the longer it took the greater the result he expected.

Watching people carefully he practiced making them happy. Them being happy made him happy. The burning memories could not be doused by alcohol but they really enjoyed swimming in it. People around him couldn’t see but Tex was loving it. Whenever his break came he would be ready.

Distracted as he was Tex was surprised to be told he had lost the round and had to drink twice. Were they cheating on him? Had someone lied and been believed? Maybe he had lost legitimately. Happy to have lost he eagerly drank from the vessel. It was a Jam Jar chosen deliberately as it was not something he would normally have the pleasure of using. His family had been very strict and Jam was not something he had been allowed to eat even though his parents and siblings had enjoyed it. Strange rules like this had made his life improbably difficult.

His childhood had been reminicent of Harry Potter. If he had been caught eating Jam he could have copped a beating and been locked under the stairs. Jam was easily available and tasted sweet and was generally great. He wasn’t allowed it to break his spirit and take away hope. Jam could give him plans for the future. His family tried their best to not give him a break.

His younger brother ate Coco Pops or Fruit Loops and Tex ate Rice-crispies. The idea was that they fed him but not nutritious food. His brother and sister ate Peanut Butter and Nutella from the jar while Tex had toast with no butter. Until he finally got to the stage he would eat Jam. He’d worked for it.

Tex clearly remembered being put under the dinner table and kicked by the family as they ate Sunday roast. He was called from isolation upstairs because they hated the sight of him. His mother brought him into the kitchen to help prepare dinner. Left alone in the kitchen he knew he would be punished for slacking. The meat was already in the Oven. Tex prepared the vegetables and cooked them to be ready on time. He could hear the family talking in the next room. Tex was happy. He knew they hated him but he didn’t understand hate. He knew he wouldn’t let them break his spirit. The funny thing was that their actions just made his spirit more resilient difficult as the process was.

The meat was ready so Tex called out to let the family know. His mother came in to the kitchen and his father followed. They watched as he plated the food. Tex made sure everybody had their favorites the way they liked them. There was an empty plate left to one side for him. With everything ready his father grabbed him by the neck and threw him into the hallway. Tex looked at him approaching and got grabbed by the hair. Dragged into the dining room he was thrown under the table and his family sat down to eat. He was instructed to stay on all fours in a position where everyone could kick him as they ate and talked over dinner. He let it happen knowing it was wrong. Something like this was too extreme to go unpunished. Surely in the long term this would work in his favor. To be treated so low would have to lead to future gains. He moved from one persons chair to the next. They all got some satisfying kicks in. He could hear their surprise at the end when they all agreed enough was reached. Afterwards, in the kitchen they scraped the worst of the leftovers onto his plate and watched him eat it, gristle, gravy and all. They laughed and left him in the kitchen. He did the plates ansd cleaned up. His mother gave him grace to leave and he went upstairs. He knew the program and it suited him.

Tex had a lot to be thankful for but life could be tough. He remembered eating bugs and slugs in the back garden in St. Neots, England after school to survive. Waking up on park benches sometimes with newspaper or cardboard as a blanket waiting for the Sun to arrive. This the product of being kicked out of the house for the night so often. He remembered these things but he did not know why they had happened. It had been the conumdrum of his life. Life could be so good but there were moments he couldn’t believe were happening. Despite those times he felt he had it better then most.

All that didn’t matter. Tex had made it to University and tonight was only interested in the game and the social interaction. He didn’t want to think about those times he had been locked under the stairs or chained in the garden and forced to eat slaters. He just wanted to enjoy these moments of freedom while he had the opportunity. He had earned this. He would enjoy this. They had hurt him. They had beaten him. They had destroyed the things he should have had but they could not stop this night whatever it might lead to.

Tex threw the two dice against the sole of a Doctor Martin boot rebounding them into the centre of the space they were crowded around. 3/1.

Scumbag. Fuck, I have to Skull. he muttered.

Tex was trying to blend into the group. In response the pack turned on him. They were learning. Three Skulls later Tex faced the carpet again. He rolled 6/1 (highest number always first). A good roll. He had the choice of holding the score or rolling one or two more times again.

He would go the distance and roll twice more. Like the All Blacks rugby team while they were still to turn professional. Rather than take kicks to win a game they would ignore the kicking opportunity from a penalty and play on for a try as the punters loved it. Close to the line they would perform a set move. This would often consist of a player holding the ball out of sight and them passing to one of multiple players running at the try line. Much better than taking a kick. Even at their supremacy in the professional game, players and coaches refused this option. If Tex were coach he would bring it back.

Tex gave the other players three chances to beat his one chance. He wanted them to enjoy the game and not feel threatened. From experience he knew the more nervous players could leave if they felt they were out of their depth. They were the ones he wanted to encourage and have them enjoy the freedom he was feeling. Also as they played they would learn the rules. They could even become friends.

Tex ignored his second roll and rolled his third and last attempt. Would Lady Luck ride on his shoulder? Would he roll the time-honoured Mexican (2/1)? The game progressed.

Far from feeling in need of refreshment Tex was now quite saturated from regular alcohol intake and he hoped the ugly embarrassment of throwing up would not happen. Scumbag. His drink again. It was silent but for the music as more beer entered his bloodstream. The silence was not from sympathy but rather interest on his progress. WHOOHARYAAY came erupting from the keen and happy throats and made the beer stay down as he finished supping and a warm glow suffused his face.

The next roll came rapidly and with the Mexican rolled 2/1 another roar of content happiness was heard. It was all very natural for them but not a situation they were used to. Tex played down his own personal experience and enjoyed the game the same as the others. The dice were passed on to the hippie girl Micky on the bed. Giving Tex a feeling of respite and some mild visual entertainment as she leant forward and rolled 2/1 - a Mexican. Tex didn’t think that if a Mexican was rolled it was compulsory to pass the turn on and said so. Everyone clearly remembered his original rules were Mexican won and you passed the dice without needing to drink. The dice were moving now and a Scumbag’s Brother was rolled.

Scumbag, Skull.

Someone pointing said Drink.

Consume. came two responses.

Ha Ha Ha...

Dense Prick. said the hippie chick about the last person to consume in a cute and friendly way.

It made Tex’s heart melt into his boots.

Micky smirked and sipped her beer from a stolen plastic bar jug (one litre lashings of beer in those).

Sexy bitch.

We all make mistakes. Tex replied, broaching the rift with communication.

Save it for the problem page. she replied.

‘Smart too’, thought Tex.

You look comfortable with that nice, big vessel. he said maybe a little jealous of her good looks while using innuendo to test the waters.

I love big things especially when they’re shiny. the babe teased back. Not one to be quiet Tex automatically replied You look the type and Micky smiled. She liked him.

The dice were rapidly returning to their side of the room and Tex tried to relax even though he was already calm. He had a lot to blame his family for. Telling himself to be calm however was talking to himself in their language (and was also a sign of madness) and that would not do. A babe is a babe he reasoned to himself. Sure as eggs were eggs and as sure as he was drinking beer at University. Micky may reject him but he was happy to talk.

Nice sandals, had them long?

Nice T-shirt wear it often? she winked at him before licking what he innocently assumed to be beer from her lips.

Have done. Do you want it? It’s yours if you do.

Tex lifted his eyebrows inquiringly. His double entredre was he would want hers in exchange.

Aww, you are cute. Come here.

Micky (her name turned out to be Andrea) gave him a hug in a friendly manner and as she did Tex brushed his lips against her neck intending a dry brush but smearing Steinlager across her soft skin.

Mmmm.

What degree are you doing? he enquired, hoping she would say English.

Science... B.Sc. (Bachelor of Science). Oh well.

What do you do? Andrea smiled.

First year Law. he said taking the dice.

Its not your go Man. the dude in black beside him relied.

Ay? Tex replied.

End of round, he lost. he was informed taking the dice from him and throwing them to another guy.

Yeah.

Tex felt a foot push behind him and start rubbing his back.

What’s your name?

Chad. You knew that. replied the dude in the black T-shirt.

Sorry Chad. I’m fucking drunk.

Tex was deciding he had held back long enough that he should just relax and be a little stupid without attracting any undue criticism. He felt like having an easy night and just letting go for a change. He had no doubts about who he was or that he would do anything he shouldn’t. He just wanted to let loose and not always feel on guard. Maybe University could be a release valve for his nervous system before he had even passed his Degree. He hadn’t really considered that.

Pushing his legs up he left Chad’s side on the floor and slid backwards onto the bed beside Micky twisting the covers around their legs. With his arm around her they relaxed backwards and lay face to face. Her eyes were blue. Her lashes black and long. She rocked.

Yo Baby Tex whispered.

Yo Baby Micky replied with overtones of waves crashing and a full orchestra playing.

Tex was falling into a world of thick colour, no sound and black and green shadows. He kissed her shocked at the rudeness of her tongue and the sensuality of the taste that she lived with in her mouth. The sound system stopped playing as someone turned it off to change the music. This broke the spell woven for both of them. Micky (real name Andrea) put one hand against his chest and winked slowly. Tex got back onto the floor with the drinking game coming straight at him.

Chad winked.

You’re up guys

Tex replied.

Fuck yeah!

They were on a nice wavelength without having to verbalise it.

Sixty-Four on two, three Mexies riding someone summarised as AC-DC started to rip.

Tex was realising Andrea tasted somewhat like Steinlager. Rolling her taste on his tongue and around a bit he honestly couldn’t find any candy floss flavour. For some reason he had expected to find some. As he took a drink of more beer Andrea sat beside him and blew in his ear. Although it surprised him a little bit he didn’t care what she did. She could blow him there and then and he’d still be happy.

After being clued in Andrea rolled a double-six which doubled her out. Micky gave six people a skull each. Everybody in the room was intent on the dice. Tex rolled a double four and the group laughed together at the fate in store for the poor soul with sixty four. It was an unlikely roll to beat and there were already three Mexicans following the roll around.

Bang, Bang, Bang bang, Bang.

What the fuck do you want? shouted Andrea as it was her room.

It’s a raid. shouted back a Warden thinking he was being cool.

Fuck off, I’m having my period. she yelled.

They all laughed a little too loudly.

Two people moved a chest of drawers against the door. Another opened the window then leapt across the room and turned up the music. It looked like the group had just decided to continue the party.

Let’s move the Keg. Docs-man said in a manner open for discussion.

Chad and Tex grabbed it and piled out the window onto the law-required fire-escape and cruised down it being followed by everybody else. It looked like they would get the Keg-bond returned after all.

Laughing, the group ran across the hostel lawn towards the University town. The Keg gently shaking along the way. Their hearts were happy and the moon was shining down on them like a benevolent God. There were stark outlines of lamp lit streets and craggy trees formed the landscape for the escapade.

As they went Andrea bumped into Tex causing the Keg to catch against his leg. Chad hoisted it onto one shoulder and as they entered the University itself there was a trail of people behind them drinking on the move. Someone swung the tap round into Chad’s hand so he too could drink.

Gothic architecture towered around the students. Gargoyles stooped above with ugly grimaces. Old trees, some in flower, adorned the courtyards and stretched towards the sky. Like they yearned to fly. Or, as Andrea put it - like trees.

A small river coursed through the centre of the grounds and as they crossed it they discovered another Hostel.

The conversation had been continuous and among other things they knew what they each thought of several famous people and who knew who. Docs-man ran up to the door of the Hostel and banged both fists against it. He was from Gore, a small country town but could be quite an exhibitionist when the mood took him.

For himself Tex preferred to move with the pack. He was open about it. Perhaps more than he should have been.

You see Tex. That’s who you are. You prefer letting the muse take you. You could be a modern poet.

I have no real talent compared to those students who let study and routine rule their lives. I love life more than them and I never give up on my dreams but I’m here more for those who can’t be here than for myself. That’s why the mainstream won’t get me. I’m not concerned for them. They don’t need me.

That doesn’t make any sense. Why would you be here for someone else? You can’t do anything for them by being here. You should be with them if you want to help them. Otherwise hit the mainstream. You’ll kill it.

That’s not necessarily true. You see I feel that way to my bones. I’m certain that this is right for me and I’m doing the right thing. My whole life I’ve been working towards going to University and getting a degree. I guess in part that I’m here to earn the respect of other people than to follow the path that would make me happy and fulfil the things I want to do for myself. he paused I do know that people don’t choose their own path...

Micky crossed her eyes and pretended to shoot herself.

...I’d rather live in the city than the bush... Micky smiled at him ...not that bush. In the city there are roads and buildings and you can’t just go where you want and that’s life. You get to open doors in life and I want to open doors that lead to places I prefer to be. Sometimes you can’t open many doors, or the ones you want, so any you open at all are very important. I want to choose the right doors. The doors that lead to places I want to stay.

Micky broke into his train of thought The Doors of Perception.

Yes. I haven’t read the book but I can relate to the band.

‘The Doors’. You are surprisingly deep.

You have no idea.

While they were talking a security guard came strolling up on the other side of the glass and strolled straight on past.

Do these people ever change? The hostel-mate wearing Doctor Martins stayed true to form.

Is Mike Hunt there? he asked, quickly getting into character,

Have you seen MIKE HUNT? Docs-man yelled loud enough to be heard in the upper stories of the building. The group laughed and started banging on the glass doors.

As all this reached a crescendo a group of girls ran down the stairs and opened the front door ignoring the aghast looks from the guard and allowing Docs and another party animal to run into the Hostel. Docs began ripping off his clothes as he went up the stairs.

Can we party? asked one of the girls prettily adding a curtsey as her friends surrounded Chad.

She was wearing dark trousers with a crème petticoat on the outside. The general response was Hell, yes! and the group turned for the waiting city dotted with pubs and clubs nearby.

There is something about neon that draws people on a Friday night like bees to honey. Standing below one of these signs was the sillouette of what appeared to be a tall man with an afro doing funky dance moves.

As the girls ran ahead and danced with this seventies throwback the guys joined in with appropriate dance moves they felt would break any innocent virgin’s resolve. The guy with the afro was wearing flared jeans, platforms and a yellow wig.

Tex and Micky sat under a tree as they watched with the keg safely between them. University was turning into something very different from their expectations. They were in control of their destiny but they were also in control of the breaks in a way they had not experienced before. Doctor Martin walked towards them and squatted down.

I’m here to do Medicine. I’m the Dux from my school and I’m taking Chemistry and Physics. I had a word to our friend from the seventies over there and this acid is totally legit. Now I got these for you both. Everybody paid for some and they threw a couple in for free. So if you want it here is some free acid.

Now normally Tex and Andrea would not have even thought about accepting this offer. They were however already on a high and rather than face the comedown of the alcohol they could take the night to another level and have something incredible to remember from their first night at University.

Micky looked into Tex’s eyes and Tex looked into hers. Each of them saw not only a kindred spirit but a connection. They were both there to succeed and both needed someone to lean on. That look told the other that if one would than the other would. In this way they could show their commitment and hopefully by the end of the night earn the trust it would take to stay together.

Chad had the tabs and they gathered around him. The group kept their unity and still had a very similar mindset to one another. They all felt that they were not taking this risk alone. They had the backing of the group. If anything happened and things went badly they could handle it as a group. After all they were at University. They were capable and resourceful human beings and they would ace this.

Making eyes at each other unintentionally Andrea and Tex kissed with no tongue. She licked his eye and he instinctively tried to shut it but was not quite quick enough. His mind went through a roll of emotion including fright and surprise before ending near gratitude and happiness.

Tex turned to Chad to ask what was taking so long. He couldn’t deal with the emotion in front of the group. Obviously the guys in the group were wishing they were in the shoes Tex wore but there was much more to it. Even thought they had just met they had a respect for Tex and they were glad to see this moment happen in his life. They could see the bond forming with Micky and knowing their own emotional palette were certain of it’s authenticity. Respect.

Tex tried to keep his emotions in check. He faced tumultuous memories and was particularly focusing on an incident he had experienced tramping on a school trip. As Tex fought his memories Chad looked up with a long face. Slowly and seriously he informed them that the tabs needed to be divided without touching them or they wouldn’t Blow our minds man.

The group gathered around him laughed at his seriousness. At least he and the chemist knew what they were getting themselves into. The experience in his voice was reassuring and mysterious at the same time. Tex felt like speaking his mind but he realised that this was a group and he was not to steal the limelight but to share it. He would stay staunch with the group and prevent any downers with his own positivity. In the back of his mind he hoped that if his chain of thought was being recorded that the reader would understand by the end that this was the only way he could choose. If he had a 40oz he would have poured it onto the ground.

Chad split the acid using a chain of keys and a bottle opener. The tabs were on a soft furry like paper serrated into fingernail sized portions. Each tab had to be liberated from the tiny page. To the students this act was on a level with sky-diving. They knew it could potentially destroy their lives.

One by one they put the soft paper tabs under their tongues and waited for them to dissolve. Tex went to take his and Micky stopped him. As he waited Chad gave her a portion and she turned to face him. Tex was already committed and didn’t know what she was doing. Slowly she took the tab from his palm where is sat suspended by the curvature of his palm. Popping it into her mouth she popped her tab into his mouth where he quickly repositioned it under his tongue as instructed. They were tripping together and he was going to have her trip and she his. Awesome.

The city beckoned and they faced it together acid under tongue. Despite the popularity of the nearby pub they turned their backs on it. The Cook had been there longer than any other pub. It was a student institution.

Are we leaving because we don’t like those people? an individual asked the group. Tex replied knowing he should take the helm.

We are leaving because if we go there the atmosphere will get better, reach a crescendo and then people will go to the next pub and have a better time. If we go to the next pub first then all those people looking for a better time will turn up and the atmosphere will be perfect. It wasn’t his idea but he was running with it.

The group liked the analogy. They were the masters of their own design. No need to do the expected. They would take their own path. Without having to follow the crowd any anxiety they had about walking into the popular venue relaxed. Their own destiny would find them. Besides they had been looking forward to exploring the city. Not just sitting in The Cook surrounded by people who didn’t know what else to do.

That night was an entity without compare but alike any other. A shroud blanketed them studded with planets that reflected light where there was none. Unique. The trees without changing seemed feral in this environment. More alive and less ornamental. Unable to see the dead leaves all around them but with the texture underfoot their knowledge of daytime was complemented manifold. Tex thought of how the blind were denied twice that accounted for. He didn’t speak his thoughts.

Some transvestites joined the first year students and together they discussed the nightspots throughout the city. Lined and puffy, lip-sticked faces suggested to meet at the only place open past Six in the morning. It was open all day every day. This awoke the reality of the neighbourhood they walked through still only teenagers. It held untold mysteries from them. Tex determined to find these out during his life span.

Stop holding hands. said Chad.

Hands in pockets Tex faced the bouncer at the next nightclub’s door. This man would not live past thirty. Maybe he already had! He was a fat bastard with a scowl. Tex liked him.

Very funny. Where’s your ID?

Will a Drivers Licence do? Tex asked.

Yes, that would be good.

Tex was surprised. He had taken the numbers from his license number and switched them with those from the birth-date. He was now officially over twenty. As there were girls in the group the bouncer was happy for everybody to enter. The transvestites had continued further into town.

You’ve already got a fake I.D.? Dude! whispered Andrea in his slightly pink ear.

Of course.

As they climbed the stairs they were walking up far more than carpet, wood and concrete. They were leaving a life of service and solitude behind them for ever. Each step took them higher figuratively and literally. Tex felt the blood course through his veins loaded with testosterone and various other chemicals he couldn’t identify. If he could bottle this feeling he would be rich overnight. Micky pinched his bum as they climbed side by side as her way of showing him they were on the same buzz.

All too soon the stairs were behind them and they took the mirror lined curved corridor into the club itself. Nothing could ever be more perfect. It was dark, shiny and smelt of a mixture of alcoholic beverages. The long glittering Bar was completely occupied with people on stools surrounded by more people after a drink from the multiple bartenders. Tex smiled at the fact this place didn’t sell any food. It was all alcohol and nothing but alcohol.

Two of the girls from the Hostel grabbed Tex by an arm each and dragged him to the dance-floor. As he went he saw Micky over his shoulder heading for the Bar. That was fine. He was more than ready to start dancing despite