Showing posts with label growing up. Show all posts
Showing posts with label growing up. Show all posts

Rats, rats, scouring rats, cute little rats, happy rats

Then Dean turned his flash light on and we all turned our flash lights on and Cassandra turned her camera on and immediately our mouths gaped and we'd only just passed the entrance. Everyone ooh'd and ahh'd while Dean raced out ahead and took the lead since he was the one showing us the way. This left the rest of us to walk slowly and just point our torches at the cement walls and hear all the weird sounds. A loud ba-bum from a car above scared Wendy and she started saying how we shouldn't be in here and that it was illegal and that she heard about these kids who came down here and got killed by something or other. 'We aren't kids,' I said, because we weren't. 'I know,' said Wendy, but she didn't really believe it. It was like she was still in high school and she was already getting on my nerves.
Dean was standing by the cracked cement wall and looking at something, looking really close, which made us wonder and also wander over to see for ourselves. I pointed my torch at Dean and then at this little shelf set in from the wall with some batteries and all sorts of junk, surrounded by notes left by someone and everyone who'd been here before. Dean explained that we should leave extra batteries for torches so that no one gets lost down here, 'coz we're all part of a clan and should look out for each other. Sprawled on the wall nearby was this massive guest book with names and funny messages and jokes like “what do you get when you line up 100 blonds ear to ear? A wind tunnel” and “if tennis players get tennis elbow and squash players get squash knees, what do gynaecologists get? tunnel vision!”, the last of which Wendy didn't like. I was just surprised they spelt gynaecologist right. There were also more serious messages like “when it rains, no drains,” which turned Wendy even more whiny.
Cassandra was really keen to leave her own name there, to leave it for prosperity, and when I asked why she said she didn't know why but that she wanted to do it. When we realised we didn't have anything to write with and that we couldn't even get the rocks to make any writing marks on the wall she kept saying that it was fine and she was fine and that it didn't matter.
While this was going on Dean had taken off and was now ahead of us again. The rest of us walked slower, in awe at how the cement walls gave way to real cave rock, which really got our torches moving and legs walking and tongues talking.
Cassandra came from nowhere and surprised Chris, which really made him jump, and made us all laugh. Then she pointed the camera in his face and started asking him questions, like 'What is the meaning of life?' and 'What is truth?' Chris was perplexed at the best of times and this wasn't the best of times so he stumbled over some sentences which didn't really make sense. Then Dean shouted out from ahead that the meaning of life was sex. I laughed but the others didn't have a good sense of humour.
'I never even knew this place existed,' I said. Dean was still up ahead but heard me and said that there were tunnels all over Adelaide. 'Under Adelaide,' corrected Cassandra. Dean didn't listen and just kept talking about some really old tunnel from behind Government House that went to Frome Road and was only there so that soldiers could take their horses to graze without having to cross a busy road, back when we had soldiers.
Chris went missing and when we went to find him we found him near a wall looking at some amazing wall art, looking it up and down like it was holy. He appreciated that stuff more than me, being arty farty, but I still liked the idea of someone coming in here and spray painting some picture so that other drainers could check it out, like we were in some exclusive club. The graffiti spelt out a name, followed by the word tomb. I shouted out to Dean to ask if that was the name of this tunnel, 'coz I heard that they were named after the people who found them, but he didn't hear me.
We kept walking, kept jumping, kept singing, all the way through this dark and scary and amazing tunnel. 'Pass us the goon bag,' someone said. Pretty soon we were all walking and drinking, feeling like bums in our underground tomb.
We got to a spot where this big fan was moving slowly and blowing air all around us, even against Wendy's hair but not in the glamourous way you see in shampoo commercials but more like something out of Bladerunner. But not the first theatrical release because that had a totally different feel to it. Now they're just cashing in and doing five or six versions which really goes against the spirit of the film.
Cassandra jumped in front of me, trying to scare me like she scared Chris but I didn't fall for it. We kept walking while she backtracked, like some cameraman from a nature documentary or like I was some presenter on a kids TV show. Cassandra, Cassandra was short and sweet, not short and pudgy, but short and cute, enough that I'd given it some thought, as it were. But she was Chris' old girl and I couldn't do that to him, not poor old Chris, not nicest guy in the world Chris, not good friend Chris. Not for a girl, even one like Cassandra. Besides, she seemed hung up on Dean.
Wendy, Wendy, moaning Wendy, moaned about her shoes and how her feet were hurting. Cassandra said to just take them off which horrified Wendy who pointed her torch at the ground and showed us all how filthy the bottom of the tunnel was, with mud and water and who knows what. Then Chris said 'Kick 'em to the curb, girlfriend,' referring to the shoes. We all stopped walking and just stared at him. I said it was good he was trying humour but maybe he should practice at home in front of a mirror first. This got a great laugh out of Wendy, but Cassandra stayed neutral and looked at me seriously like I'd really hurt his feelings which made me feel bad. But moments later I was talking about how utterly terrible Lord of the Rings was as a book, about how I understood that it was quite influential in defining the modern fantasy genre but that it was flawed because it was just lots of walking, walking, bits of talking, followed by a long trek in the mountains. Chris turned and said that that was all we were doing, walking and talking, and he had me, he totally got me, which got a stern expression from me and a few laughs from Wendy and a louder one from Cassandra which made me laugh and we all laughed and I felt better.
Then Wendy chimed in about another book with lots of travelling which was this boring book called On The Road, where this guy just went from one side of America to the other and spoke in this rambling style which got tiring very quickly and which tried to seem profound but really wasn't. It shocked me that Wendy had actually read something not by Ann M Martin.
That got Cassandra started with her favourite topic: American Imperialism. She went on and on about how they were hypocritical and how they interfered with foreign states, even Australia. She said that in the 70's America didn't like Gough Whitlam so they orchestrated some political manoeuvring so that he got sacked, which I'd never really known. Every time she mentioned something bad that America spread, Dean would chime in with good things they'd done, just for the argument. She would mention wars, he would mention McDonald's. She would talk about how McDonald's was bad for the environment and he would say that America was a world leader in environmental sustainability. You could tell she didn't really believe him but she couldn't argue against it because she didn't know for sure.
Dean was rat-tat-tapping on the walls and the pipes. I said to the girls: 'What's the best start to a song?' The others started tat-tat-tapping, just like Dean, using our tunnel as an impromptu instrument, trying to recreate some hideous pop song. I said: 'No, no, no, I meant lyrics-wise.' The others umm'd and ahh'd until I just bore right in and said the best start to a song is from What's My Scene by the Hoodoo Guru's. The others tried to get it in their heads and it was Wendy who got there first, singing 'And another thing...'
This got Dean started and you really shouldn't get dean started, especially when it comes to music, especially when it comes to anything, 'coz once he gets started he just doesn't stop. He went on and on about other 80's groups and then about Australian music and how Triple J doesn't play enough Karnivool any more and how Birds Of Tokyo were awesome at the Gov and all this stuff that frankly me and Chris barely listened to. The girls were Chinese whispering to each other like they always did and I could see Chris glance a few times over to them, not longingly like some besotted love bird but definitely with something, with some kind of feelings and it made me think.
We kept moving on down the tunnel till we got to this thin mummy passage that scared the crap out of Wendy since it looked like a trap, like in old westerns where they'd be travelling in their wagons and get to a thin spot between cliffs and it'd always be an ambush, they even knew it was going to be an ambush, but still went in regardless. That's what I like about those films, how they'd do all this bad stuff and then get to the point in the story where they'd know they were doomed, they'd just know, and they'd accept their fate anyway. Dean accepted his fate first and went through the passage. Before he went in he said that he hadn't gone further than this before, that last time he was here, which was the only time, he got this far and the girl he was with couldn't wait any longer and they did it right here and just left afterwards.
So we kept trying to look at the thin passage while someone shone a torch in everyone's face which got on our nerves a little. Every time it hit Wendy I could see her trembling like she'd just watched the first Saw film, maybe the second one, but not anything later since you kind of know the formula by then which makes it less scary.
Dean called back and said to come straight away, that we'd never believe what he found. We all rushed through the thin passage, even Wendy, who kind of grabbed onto me for protection as we walked which I didn't mind. When we got to the other side it was this massive room with pipes jutting in from all angles and bright green moss shining in the lights, different coloured lights, setting it up like an Alien film but much more pleasant. It even had a waterfall that landed in a kind of urban lake, which made the air misty and all atmospheric. 'That's gorgeous,' said Wendy, still holding on to me. We all wow'd and ooh'd and ahh'd for ages. Cassandra filmed heaps of it, from all different angles. She said it's the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. We all agreed. Then Chris said that he bet we were the only ones to ever see it which is obviously wrong since it was man-made but we were too busy ooh'ing and ahh'ing to care.
Dean jumped up one of the pipes and stood there like a pirate on the end of a pirate ship. He had taken a few more chugs from the goon bag and said some stuff about muses and about how they shouldn't desert him at this his finest hour. He was looking at us but the truth was he was my muse, not the other way around; he was the thing that bound us together and kept things moving; they always had to be moving.
'I reckon we're the only ones to ever see this,' said Chris again. This time we all paid him out until he had that puppy dog look on his face and we all felt sorry for him and surrounded him in a big group hug. After, we sat down and passed around the goon bag. I took a massive swig and it ran down the sides of my mouth but no one saw so I drank again. Not long later my head was spinning and the colours looked even better. It was like we'd found paradise. 'These truly are the glory days,' I said and laid back on the cement floor. Wendy had curled her fingers between mine and we both lay back together.
My fingers tingled as Wendy moved off and had a private chat with Cassandra in the corner of paradise. That left the boys alone and so we did what we always did and talked about girls.
Dean said that he can't go up to a girl who he thinks is perfect because he'll just look at her and look at her and try to find some imperfection, and he won't stop until he does, and after he does he won't like her any more because she's not perfect like he thought she was and that it's all about expectations, which I suppose is true. So he said he goes for 7's or 8's, maybe 9's if he really needs it. If I hadn't seen him around girls I'd think he just lies a lot but I've seen him around girls and he wasn't lying. My contribution was about porn, since I wasn't as fast as Dean. I said I can only watch porn with ugly chicks in it, or at least average looking, because it's all a fantasy, it's all in your mind, and if you can't imagine a situation where a really hot looking chick would want to do you then it just won't work. Chris seemed a bit embarrassed and so we pestered him about his sexual encounters. He wouldn't budge. Dean asked about Cassandra and what she was like when they were together but he still didn't budge which I was happy about. Dean then said that he never watches porn. I was incredulous at this but he assured me and Chris that he just doesn't need to, that he's got a friend and they have sex whenever. I started to think if I could do that, have sex with a female friend, and I decided I probably could.
Chris finally chimed in and said that when he was younger he had this idea for a little device which would let you tell someone you liked them, but kind of secretly. Me and dean looked at each other. But the idea wasn't that crazy as he went on and talked about how you'd put this little device in your pocket and when you passed by a hot chick you could just press a button and if she had one of the devices and thought you were attractive she could press her button and then, only then, would it alert both of you that you liked each other. It was like this safe way for people with low self-esteem to get to know one another. I thought it didn't seem to meet the demands of the target demographic since you could press your button when some hot chick wanders past but then when you don't receive the signal that she likes you, you'd get all sad and mopey. Chris said that wasn't true because the girl might not even have one of the devices, which was true. Dean said that Chris was dopey, not mopey, and that the whole idea was bunk. He couldn't understand why you'd even need it. I at least understood it, but I wouldn't have invested capital in the idea. Then Cassandra said that he should write an app for it, that the device could just be a mobile phone. That shocked us all because we didn't know the girls were listening in on our conversation and recording it on the camera. 'This is man business,' I said. 'Stop listening in on our conversation.' But they just laughed at us like girls do when they're doing the wrong thing but don't care.
Dean jumped up and started walking through all the pipes. He was keen to move on and seemed almost angry that we were wasting time just lying around talking. We all followed and got out our flashlights and kept walking through the tunnel that didn't end. Until we got to the end. There was no great finality to it, or even a nice final wall, since the sides of cement just kind of converged on this one point, almost like it was hiding the fact it was an ending at all, and more like something that continues on like the inside of a circle. 'Well that sucks.' Everyone was all bummed. Dean was saying how it was a kind of microcosm of life, that as soon as you get to where you're going you realise it wasn't worth getting there. Cassandra was saying that yes, it was a microcosm, but of how the journey is what it's all about and reminding us of the paradise room. Dean didn't like the conversation and got real angry, jumping up and down and punching the wall. We all weren't happy with the ending but we didn't think it was all that bad, yet Dean was going crazy and wouldn't calm down. It was like he had wanted something out of this, something more that he couldn't share with anyone but him. The girls all surrounded him and spoke quietly to him, then Chris joined in and it seemed to be working. Chris was always really calm, at least with people, and while I couldn't hear what he said I knew it was working because Dean's shoulders were relaxing and his face wasn't red any more and he didn't seem like he'd bash the whole place down. I stayed back and kind of waited, not sure what to do.
I looked up and saw a grate on the ceiling with sunshine streaming through. There were these old fashioned metal ladder rungs leading up to it which looked amazing and made me think of sewers and nineteenth century Paris for some reason.
Then dean just fell back and his face seemed pale. He wasn't having a fit but you could see he was in pain. We didn't know what to do. 'What do we do?' shouted Wendy. I was even more helpless. Chris was quietly talking to Dean. My stomach was in knots and I got all confused and I swear someone else was shouting but everything was hazy. All these noises came into my ears and I had this feeling that something bad was going to happen, that the end of the tunnel was going to be the end of something else. I started thinking about God and Buddha and what happens when you die and I realised that I didn't really know and I promised myself that I'd read more books on comparative religion and spirituality and all that pseudo-hippy stuff that everyone seems to love.
Then dean looked up. He was fine. He jumped up as if nothing happened. This was good, we all thought it was good, but we didn't feel that good. Chris and Cassandra and Wendy were all perplexed and had other things going on in their heads, while I felt guilty for thinking about myself when Dean, cool Dean, lady's man Dean, was almost about to die. 'You were faking it,' screamed Cassandra, 'You were faking it.' Dean just swaggered off. Cassandra ran to him and hit him but he didn't do anything back and then he laughed, but not a full laugh, more like a nervous laugh. But it didn't matter because soon we were all laughing and having a good time.
To get to the ladder rungs we had to jump a small stream of water. It was nothing, but Cassandra made a big deal of it, that it was kind of like we were crossing over into being proper grown-ups, even though we already were. She said it was like our bridge to Terabithia. I hated that book but decided not to say anything since the others were all happy with the idea.
We clambered up the ladder, Dean first, followed by Cassandra, then Chris, then Wendy and finally me. I looked back at the tunnel and thought for a second that there was something important I should learn from this. I wasn't sure what it was. Then I realised I'd spent too much time around Cassandra and it was just a stupid tunnel. So I kept climbing and looked up the ladder and saw Wendy's bum which looked nice from this angle.  



© 2011 Ben Safta

Creative Commons License This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Australia License

To be of the Land you must know the Land

And it came to pass that the great opposing forces of the universe did stage their endless battle. They that be full of power. They that be full of knowing. They that be the spirit. They that spread out over the Land.

I am thirsty, said the boy.
You are thirsty, said the man.
Yes.
Listen.
The boy listened.
Do you hear, said the man.
No.
What do you hear.
The insects.
What else do you hear.
The wind.
What else do you hear.
Nothing.
Do as I do.
The man pressed his ear to the branch. The boy did so.
The man shook the forked tree.
What do you hear, said the man.
The boy listened.
I hear it, said the boy.
The man cut the branch. The man held the branch over the boy. The boy drank.

The man walked quickly. The man had large feet. The man made deep grooves in the Land.
The boy followed. The boy stepped in the grooves. The boy jumped to land inside the grooves.
The fire in the sky was big. The man had protection from the fire. The man liked the flies on his face. The man liked the flies on his neck.
The boy waved his arm. The boy lost protection of the flies. The boy lost protection of the Land.
I am tired, said the boy.
You are tired.
Yes.
Look, said the man. Do you see the great bird. Do you see the Land.
The boy looked up.
There is only a rock.
Look closer. It is a bird. There. It has the hump of an emu. There. It has beak of a dromus. It is as old as the Land. As old as the Time.
The boy squinted. The boy could see only a rock.
You are not looking of the way, said the man. You are looking outside. You must look inside. Close your eye.
The boy did so.
What do you see.
Darkness.
What else do you see.
The boy rubbed his nose. Darkness.
No. What else.
The bird.
The boy opened his eyes.
The man walked to the cool bird. The boy ran to the cool bird.

I am hungry, said the boy.
You are hungry, said the man.
Yes.
Touch the Land. What does it tell you.
The boy touched the Land.
It is hot, said the boy.
Yes. What else.
Nothing.
The man walked. The man touched the Land. The man closed his eyes.
Here, said the man.
The boy touched the Land.
What do you feel, said the man.
Nothing.
Do you feel the Land move.
Yes.
The man punched the Land. The man held a lizard.
We thank the Land, said the man. We are of the Land.

The fire in the sky rested on the mountain.
I am sick, said the boy.
The man pulled at the fruit. The man pulled at the other fruit.
I am not hungry, said the boy.
I know. Do as I do.
The man licked at the outside of the fruit. The boy did so.
What do you taste.
Nothing.
The man licked at the outside of the other fruit. The boy did so.
What do you taste.
Nothing.
Do they taste not of the sameness?
No.
The man caught the falling boy. The man gave the boy of the other fruit.
What do you taste, said the man.
Sweet, said the boy.
Yes. Sweet.
The boy was better.

The holes in the sky were bright.
The man woke the boy.
What do you smell, said the man.
Smoke.
What else.
You.
Good. What else.
Nothing.
The man sat against the tree. The man waited with the spear.
The dingo bit the man. The man flung the spear at the dingo. The dingo landed at the feet of the boy. The body did not move.
You are safe, said the Land.

The great fire in the sky rose.
Stop, said the man. The two armies.
The two armies, said the boy.
Yes.
Where.
The man pointed to the plain.
The man pointed to the mountain.
Look closer, said the man.
I see only the dust, said the boy.
Listen.
I hear only the Land.
Breathe.
I smell only you.
Taste.
I taste only the air.
Do you feel them, said the man.
No, said the boy.
The man fought bravely.
The man screamed. Do you feel them.
No.
Until.
The boy saw the armies. The boy heard the cries. The boy smelt the past. The boy tasted the red. The boy felt the pain.
The boy was dead. The man was dead.
The man was alive.



© 2011 Ben Safta

Creative Commons License This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Australia License

Stripped Bare

Beep.
'Hello Samantha, it's me again. I forgot the reason I rang before. These things always make me nervous. Umm, I don't know what you're doing at the moment...'
What the hell you think I'm doing? Having sex in some big orgy?
'...Dad wants to invite you to dinner tonight.'
Ha! Don't think so.
'We'll have schnitzel. Beef, of course. Not chicken. I know you don't like chicken.'
Coz I've told you, like, a billion times?
'We can have a family meal. Like we used to. All three of us.'
Borrring.
'Umm, so drop a message. I mean, send a message or drop a line. I mixed them up. I'm so silly.'
You can say that again.
'…'
I rub sleep from my eyes and pull the phone away from my ear - still connected. I wait.
She finally talks again.
'We haven't seen you since your 21st and, well, Dad misses you. He talks about you all the time. He's been such a pain the last month, trying to finish off the verandah. I told him to get some help but he won't budge. It's no good for his back. The silly old fool thinks he can do everything he used to. He's even worse at work – racing with the young guys.'
Wait, young guys?
'He needs to move up to the office and get away from the shop floor.'
Yeah, but back to these young guys...
'Honestly, I don't know what to do with him. The only reas-'
Beep.
'One unread message,' blares the phone. 'Eleven thirty-two A.M.'
I squint out the bright window. It's way too early to be up. I fall back onto the bed.
'Samii!' says the rough voice of Dave on the mobile. 'Got a gig for you tonight. An eighteenth. Asked for you 'specially. Give's a call back and I'll let ya know the details. Catch ya, babe.'
Ooh! I'm awake now! The thought of a gig always gets me going. It's like, anything's possible, anything can happen. Makes me a little nervous and a lot excited. The three hundred dollars is handy, too.
'Mmfmm,' muffles a voice under the pillow.
I search for my clothes. The treasure hunt takes me all over the room. I pull at my fishnets, wedged behind the desk, and nearly go flying tits over arse when they come free. Above the desk is a large poster of some real old guy with a dodgy moustache and freaky hair. He looks like a pedo. The writing above him says: “Great spirits have often encountered violent opposition from weak minds.”
I think about it for a bit - it can take me a while to get these things. I laugh. So true. Funny fucker.
'Oh,' says the guy in bed. 'You're uh, still here.'
'Yep,' I say.
'Shit!' he says.
What the fuck does that mean?
He jumps out of bed. 'I'm late.'
Oh.
'Where are you going?' I ask, while slipping on my Zanotti sandals.
'Umm,' he says.
'Don't worry. I don't wanna come with you or anything. Just making conversation.'
'Oh. Yeah. I'm late for class. I don't wanna miss any of it, the lecturer's fuckin hot.' He looks at me and shrugs. 'I like older women.'
I smile and look at him for the first time. His nose is massive. His hair all stringy. Pretty fugly with the light on.
'What umm, what are you learning?' I ask.
'Do you mean what subject is the lecture on? Or what degree am I doing? They're different things, you know.'
'No, I know,' I lie. 'Umm, what degree?'
'I told you last night.'
'It's not a good night if you remember it.' My turn to shrug.
He sniffs. He waits.
I know he wants me to leave but he's being an arsehole. So I take my time brushing my hair.
'Can I keep that poster?' I say, pointing above the desk.
He snorts. 'No. Don't think so.'
Hmmm. Gotta remember to ask before, not after.
'Anyway, I gotta go,' he says.
I don't move. I look over at him patiently. 'OK.'
You wanna play games? I can play games.
'Fine, stay then,' he says, storming out of the room. 'Just don't steal anything!'
When the door to the unit closes I stand quickly and stumble out the room. Yep, way too early to be up.
I've almost left the joint when I stop, turn back, and snatch the poster from the wall. That's what you get for being a prick.

I plonk my phone down near the sink. Mum hasn't called again so she probably got the hint.
I wish I had these massive mirrors at home. They look amazing. I'll see if someone knows how much they cost. Oh well, last-minute check time.
My blonde hair looks nice and wavy down my shoulders, but the fringe is still giving me problems. I press it down but now it looks pressed down. Argh, now my roots are showing through - I really need a colouring.
That don't matter, other things they can look at.
I press my boobs together so that more cleavage shows above the silver and frilly tubular top. I turn a little to the side.
You don't need massive boobs to do this job – it's more about having confidence in your body. I do feel a little sorry for the girls with nothing at all, but if they're that concerned they can always get a little boobs 'r' us work done.
I fiddle with the top. Yeah, don't think I'll be needing surgery.
The ruffled skirt looks amazing. It's like I've got nothing on underneath.
I shove my phone down the silver fuck-me boots, which look fine and all...but I just feel naked without my Zanotti's.
'Hey, you ready babe?' shouts Dave, just outside the door of the toilets. He's a good guy. I've had rep's who just wanna fuck after the gig. I'm not a prostitute! The funny thing is, they're always the ones with small dicks.
'Hang on,' I say, and finish putting the circle-y bit on top of my head. I thought this would be the best costume, with where we are and all. It totally matches. Dave said to go with the cop outfit but that's got nothing to do with this place. I guess that's why I'm the stripper and he's just, like, a helper.
We walk down the corridor together. Everyone looks. All girls are just haters, anyway. And they're jealous. They got nothing on me.
I notice some of the younger guys looking weirdly at me. Fuck off you pricks, you'll probably hire me to do your bucks night.
But it's all fine. I'm here coz I wanna be here. Don't matter what they think.
'Samii,' says Dave, 'this is Debbie.'
She looks at me even worse than the nurses, or whatever the fuck they were. What's her problem? She isn't hot enough to look at me like that. Just all old and wrinkly and in need of a colouring even more than me! Hell, she needs to put her head in some massive water thing to wash off whatever's growing in her oily, gross hair. Heh, good one.
'Oh, I'm glad you could make it,' says the bitch.
I'm not like when I was younger. You can't think one thing and say something completely different, put on an act. It won't work for me. I've had enough friends in my life to know it. That's what separates the good friends from the bad ones: they only talk about you behind your back, not to your face.
I nod, smiling. 'It's fine.'
'Brad's really looking forward to this,' she says. 'It's what he wants.' She looks down for a moment. The bitch can't even look me in the eye. 'And if it's what he wants, it's what we want. You know?'
I touch the little wings on my back to make sure they're still there.
'We just,' she says, 'we don't know how long...'
The old woman screws up her face which reminds me a bit of mum. Then she covers her face with her hands and rushes into the room.
'Uh, maybe we should just get started, ay babe?' says Dave.
Thank christ. Thought I was gonna be in the corridor all night.
I brush more glitter across my bare tummy and psych myself up. I feel that throbin' beat from the room. It's the start of Closer. It just 'verbs all though my chest, getting louder and stronger.
'...You let me desecrate you...'
I burst through the door and start my routine without even looking. A few poses, a few slinky body moves. Just the standard stuff while I get warmed up.
I hear a few woo's from the boys along the wall. They're all seventeen or eighteen, sitting in a row on this long bench, almost like they were still at school. Not much quality there. Way too young for me, anyway.
'...Help me; I've got no soul to sell...'
I dance over to the big bed in the middle of the room and bend forward, showing my cleavage. I've positioned myself so that my arse is also pointing at the boys. One of them gasps. Without turning I know that he's got a little too excited and Dave's had to calm him down, in his own way.
Another few steps and I'm up near the top of the bed. The boy has all these wires and stuff coming from everywhere. He looks a bit unsure. But cute. Nice bad-boy shaved head. Maybe I should see what he's doing when he gets out of here. What was his name? Brad? Wait for this one, Brad!
I raise up and flick my hair - 'I wanna fuck you like an animal' – letting it come free.
I'm not normally a fan of NIN but this one gets me going!
I squat a bit, dangling my hair over the boy's face while giving more of a back show for the friends.
When I rise up Brad's got a massive grin on his face. Heh, he wants to fuck me like an animal, the cutie. I smile back.
With a flick I leave him that circle thing that was on my head. It was annoying me anyway.
The song fades and mixes with a new one. I like to begin with a fully dressed set at the start, then move onto- Wait! What's this? I thought it was Pussycat Dolls next. Oh yeah, I don't have buttons, so probably good he skipped it.
'...Nothing feels right when I'm not with you...'
I also don't have a T-shirt on, but I love this song so who cares?
A few bumps on the floor and some leg stretching later, I'm getting ready to give the birthday boy an even better show.
'...gotta be strong, I'm really hurtin' now that you're gone...'
Must suck being in hospital, especially for your eighteenth. I couldn't stand not being able to go out and have fun. Luckily, it's Samii to the rescue!
I strut around the bed and turn so I'm facing the big white curtain thing, almost tripping over a gold Guess handbag on the floor. Must be that old woman's. She's got good taste.
My hands release the clamp on my top – it falls quickly to the floor. I do some hot bendy moves to get them thinking about what's to come. With my boobs cupped I turn and step up onto the little metal case in front of the bed. I picture the boys in their school uniforms. Man, remember when I was that young?
In a flash I remove my hands and show 'em my body. They go fuckin' wild. I love audiences like this! Dave is hovering over them but they're harmless anyway so I'm not worried.
I let my fingers wander all over my body. Ooh, that reminds me, I haven't done a wet show for ages. I should come up with something later.
'...In bed I lay, with nothing but your T-shirt on...'
A jump and I'm next to the bed, leaning down over the boy. “Happy Birthday, Brad,” I whisper, letting my lips touch his ear. Don't get me wrong, I don't normally do any touching – I'm not that kind of stripper – but this poor boy's in hospital and I know he wouldn't hurt a fly.
I stay bent over him for a bit longer, knowing my boobs are rubbing against him. When I do stand up I notice that he's joined me, in his own way.
With my boobs held, I push them together and play with the nipples. Guys always like that. I turn a few times to make sure both Brad and his friends get a good show. When I turn back once more I accidentally knock the curtain and it swings open a bit. There's another guy there. For a split second I lose my train of thought and almost stop dancing completely. Since I'm, like, so experienced, I manage to continue on with my routine without anyone else noticing.
But who the hell is this other guy? Why isn't he out with the others? Not some Catholic nutter, I hope. He's wearing a blue and red, vertically striped cardigan, blue pants, and scruffy off-white shoes. His little moustache makes him look older than he probably is. His head is still in the same place it was, facing the curtain, even though the curtain's not there any more.
I do a few more turns and end up facing the new guy. I hold my boob up and stretch my tongue down, licking my nipple, but he still won't look. Watch me, you fucker.
'...Tell me how I'm supposed to breathe with no air...'
Shit, the next song's on already. I race to the centre of the room and bend down slowly, following my standard routine. You can do other stuff too, but it's good to have a base you can work from. Since I'm falling behind, I better go back to that now.
Out the corner of my eye I notice the moustache man. He glances quickly at me and then looks away, as if I caught him doing something wrong. Got ya, buddy.
I stretch down even further with my head between my legs. Down this low I can see below the bed. A slight stretch further and I see legs. Lots of legs.
My hands slide up my own legs as I stand up straight. They must be behind the curtain. Err, what the fuck?
'...Tell me how you gonna be without me...'
I look over at Brad who's still enjoying the show. When he grins you can see his bones. I didn't realise before how freaky it is. It's like his skin is see-through. And I can tell how small his body is from when I pressed down over the blanket. Jeez.
I half dance to the curtain and pull it back. They are all old, definitely older than the moustache guy, apart from one girl around my age. She's wearing this purple fleece top, but she has these amazing gold earrings that'd look great on me! She must be the one with the good taste in handbags. The rest have got clothes from the Salvo's or something. None of them move or say anything even though I've caught them out. They just keep looking straight ahead. The old woman is there. She's the only one who looks up at me now. She doesn't get angry or anything, just looks at me with, like, red eyes. Doesn't even look like a bitch any more. Just real sad.
The boys on the bench clap and cheer for me to continue. That's when I realise my body has stopped moving. Their noise fades off and it's like I'm here alone with this old woman who looks more and more like mum. At least, mum when she's sad. I kinda put two and two together and realise that they're not being complete dicks by sitting behind the curtain. It's not even that they wouldn't want to see me strip – moustache guy definitely would. It's just that they're doing it for him, for Brad, before he...well...fuck. This is just fucking weird. How the fuck am I supposed to strip when all these fuckers are just waiting for him to die?
'I...umm...' realise my shoulders are drooping and I can barely move. What do I do now? I turn my head and look over at Dave who is sitting there without speaking. It's the only time I've seen him with nothing to say. The only sound is from the boys on the bench, who are now whistling at me to continue, and from the CD player.
'...Losing you is like living in a world with no air...'
I turn back to Brad and quickly turn away. I can't even look at him now. This is all too fucking much. The old woman still watches me and I can't tell what she's thinking. I'm normally good at that stuff, working out what people are thinking based on how they look, but I just can't do it with her. It's almost like she has no feeling left. It's all gone.
'I...' rush from the room.
The corridor gets blurry as I run towards...where? I don't care, away, away from here, my head is spinning and the colours are changing from blue to purple to orange to red and I open one door and then another and some woman might be screaming at me or it could be some kid who doesn't want to be here or maybe an old man I don't know but it hurts the pain in my ears and the stinging in my eyes as I keep running inside another door and trip and fall onto the hard floor where it's cold really cold but it's like everything else is worse so I don't really care about it and I cover my face but all it does is make my hands wet and I wriggle myself on the floor and cry really cry probably looking like some horrible creature probably looking like that woman from earlier but I don't know why don't know why I'm crying but I'm in the toilet I must be in the toilet again 'coz through the haze I make out those massive mirrors and all I can think about is how I need to find out how much they cost how much for each one and would it be cheaper if you got more than one and how much bigger can you get them and if you got one double the size how much more would that cost?

A little later I'm sitting upright. I don't know how long I've been crying for but I don't have any energy left for more. I feel a bit like the old woman, Brad's mum. Just feel, like, numb and stuff.
I look down at my knee. There's blood everywhere! It's fucking gross. And I realise my phone's on the floor. Must have fallen out when I tripped over. After I pick it up my fingers start dialling one of my contacts.
'Hello?' says the voice on the other end.
'Umm,' I say, 'is it too late for me to come over tonight mum?'



© 2011 Ben Safta

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