dots behind it.
Brian and a few of the other fellas were still sucking bucket bongs.
‘Let’s go dancing!’ yelled one of the girls.
‘Nah, we’re too out of it. They’d never let us in,’ said Jacko.
So they started dancing in the lounge room. They pushed back the couch with me and Steve huddling wide eyed in a corner of it, cleared a space and put on some rap, then started throwing themselves against walls, making the house shake.
I couldn’t move. I just sat staring at the jumping legs and waving arms, watching as the dancers morphed into creatures from galaxies far away.
Next thing I knew someone was sprinkling me with salt and sticking a fork into my arm.
‘Hey!’
‘We’re hungry.’
That snapped me out of it. ‘Shit!’ I got up quick smart. ‘Get away from me, Jacko. Where’s Brian? Bri!’
‘Come on, Jacko. Leave Douggie alone. He was freaking before,’ said Beck. Always knew she had a soft spot for me, that kiss did the trick.
‘So? Who the fuck asked you?’ said Jacko, but he stopped jabbing me with the fork.
Where was Brian? Maybe the aliens got him.
‘Come on, let’s go out,’ said Jacko, ‘I’m going bloody stir-crazy in here. Let’s go do something.’
‘What?’ everyone yelled over the music.
‘I dunno. Anything. We’ll make it up as we go along. Everyone bring something.’
The fellas rattled around collecting stuff to take, buckets and bike chains andpower tools and saucepans. Steve shoved a kitchen knife into my hand. ‘Here. In case he tries to eat you again.’ He was holding a potato masher.
I didn’t want to go anywhere. Everyone was acting wild, whooping and calling, waving knives and chains and hammers around their heads. Playing war games. I just wanted to stay sitting on the couch with Steve, trying to watch TV, maybe make my move on Beck once I could think a bit straighter.
Through the crack in the door I spied Brian in Jacko’s room with his arm around Beck, who was sobbing again. He was edging his hand up under the back of her t-shirt, trying to cop a feel. Bloody hell. As if she’d look at Brian when I was around. He obviously wasn’t thinking about what Jacko would do if he caught him either.
‘I don’t want any part of it,’ said Jase, packing another cone and passing it to Pete.
‘Loser,’ said Jacko, as he pushed me and Steve into the parade that was already starting out the backdoor. ‘Come on you dickheads. We’re going hunting.’
It was cold outside. Cold and wet like it was raining a bit, ticklish on my skin. I wished I could take some of that soft rain and scrub it around inside my head where all the monsters were hiding.
We climbed over the fence and stumbled through the neighbour’s yard to the road.
‘Where’re we going?’ I whispered to Steve.
‘Dunno. Just hunting I guess.’
‘I’m hungry,’ said Jacko, ‘bloody starving.’
‘Me too,’ said some of the other guys.
‘Me too,’ we echoed.
A possum scuttled across a nearby roof, its claws scratching on the tin.
‘Meat!’ Jacko roared.
And we hunters stampeded in the direction of the sound. Not that any of us had ever eaten possum or knew how to skin one or anything. But it seemed like a good idea.
‘Meat! Meat! Meat!’ we all chanted, like we were cave men hunting T-Rex. It felt great. Hunting together. I was glad Jacko made me come. It chased away the spooks from my brain, cleared it with the cry of ‘Meat! Meat! Meat!’
Something scurried behind a bin out on the footpath.
‘There it is!’
‘Get it!’
‘Get it Jacko.’
‘Kill it!’ we screamed.
We threw the bins over and Jacko swung down his chain with a heavy thunk onto the shadow.
It wasn’t a possum.
He picked it up, limp and sagging, and we saw that it was a cat, a fat old cat with its brains smashed in. Jacko took it by the tail and spun it around his head like a lasso, whooping and pounding his chest with his other hand.
That started us all doing an Indian war dance,
Brian and a few of the other fellas were still sucking bucket bongs.
‘Let’s go dancing!’ yelled one of the girls.
‘Nah, we’re too out of it. They’d never let us in,’ said Jacko.
So they started dancing in the lounge room. They pushed back the couch with me and Steve huddling wide eyed in a corner of it, cleared a space and put on some rap, then started throwing themselves against walls, making the house shake.
I couldn’t move. I just sat staring at the jumping legs and waving arms, watching as the dancers morphed into creatures from galaxies far away.
Next thing I knew someone was sprinkling me with salt and sticking a fork into my arm.
‘Hey!’
‘We’re hungry.’
That snapped me out of it. ‘Shit!’ I got up quick smart. ‘Get away from me, Jacko. Where’s Brian? Bri!’
‘Come on, Jacko. Leave Douggie alone. He was freaking before,’ said Beck. Always knew she had a soft spot for me, that kiss did the trick.
‘So? Who the fuck asked you?’ said Jacko, but he stopped jabbing me with the fork.
Where was Brian? Maybe the aliens got him.
‘Come on, let’s go out,’ said Jacko, ‘I’m going bloody stir-crazy in here. Let’s go do something.’
‘What?’ everyone yelled over the music.
‘I dunno. Anything. We’ll make it up as we go along. Everyone bring something.’
The fellas rattled around collecting stuff to take, buckets and bike chains andpower tools and saucepans. Steve shoved a kitchen knife into my hand. ‘Here. In case he tries to eat you again.’ He was holding a potato masher.
I didn’t want to go anywhere. Everyone was acting wild, whooping and calling, waving knives and chains and hammers around their heads. Playing war games. I just wanted to stay sitting on the couch with Steve, trying to watch TV, maybe make my move on Beck once I could think a bit straighter.
Through the crack in the door I spied Brian in Jacko’s room with his arm around Beck, who was sobbing again. He was edging his hand up under the back of her t-shirt, trying to cop a feel. Bloody hell. As if she’d look at Brian when I was around. He obviously wasn’t thinking about what Jacko would do if he caught him either.
‘I don’t want any part of it,’ said Jase, packing another cone and passing it to Pete.
‘Loser,’ said Jacko, as he pushed me and Steve into the parade that was already starting out the backdoor. ‘Come on you dickheads. We’re going hunting.’
It was cold outside. Cold and wet like it was raining a bit, ticklish on my skin. I wished I could take some of that soft rain and scrub it around inside my head where all the monsters were hiding.
We climbed over the fence and stumbled through the neighbour’s yard to the road.
‘Where’re we going?’ I whispered to Steve.
‘Dunno. Just hunting I guess.’
‘I’m hungry,’ said Jacko, ‘bloody starving.’
‘Me too,’ said some of the other guys.
‘Me too,’ we echoed.
A possum scuttled across a nearby roof, its claws scratching on the tin.
‘Meat!’ Jacko roared.
And we hunters stampeded in the direction of the sound. Not that any of us had ever eaten possum or knew how to skin one or anything. But it seemed like a good idea.
‘Meat! Meat! Meat!’ we all chanted, like we were cave men hunting T-Rex. It felt great. Hunting together. I was glad Jacko made me come. It chased away the spooks from my brain, cleared it with the cry of ‘Meat! Meat! Meat!’
Something scurried behind a bin out on the footpath.
‘There it is!’
‘Get it!’
‘Get it Jacko.’
‘Kill it!’ we screamed.
We threw the bins over and Jacko swung down his chain with a heavy thunk onto the shadow.
It wasn’t a possum.
He picked it up, limp and sagging, and we saw that it was a cat, a fat old cat with its brains smashed in. Jacko took it by the tail and spun it around his head like a lasso, whooping and pounding his chest with his other hand.
That started us all doing an Indian war dance,
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