There was a knock at the door. I looked at the open window, the billowing curtains beckoned me to go through it; I picked up the suitcase under my arm and headed towards it. There was more banging at the door, but this time it was accompanied by a familiar voice, “Hey Tog, open up, it's me Jason.” He must have followed me back last night. “I left my sunglasses on your dressing table.” Sure enough and as right as rain he was, there was a pair of sleek black shades that hadn't caught my attention before. How did his glasses get inside my room? Suddenly, a flashback. Jason had indeed followed me back last night – Ah, how could my brain have lost so much information? But the memories flooded back as if I had scored the jackpot and retrieved a bunch of items from a lost property office.
Last night, I had run all the way home; in my panic, I hadn't even bothered to turn around and check if anyone was following me. I was splashing water on my face when there was knocking on the door, “Hey Tog, open up, it's me Jason.” I opened the door.
“I hope you don't mind, I followed you all the way back,” he paused to pant and catch his breath, “wanted to check if everything was okay?” His mouth tossed a line of spittle across his chin and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.
“Oh hey! You're ... uh,” I pretended to search my mind for a name, but was actually wincing at the sight of a swollen zit on his nose which looked ready to explode any minute on it's own accord, “Jason, from the boat, right?”
“Yeah man.” he replied monotonously.
I grinned, “Well come in then, dear boy!” I swept a path in the air to welcome him inside, “Long time no see, I hope you're doing well?”
We had hung out, all night, drinking the bottle of whisky that I kept in my suitcase, and smoking his weed. I knew he would eventually ask my motive for attacking the guy, and when he did after several more full swigs, I told him that I kicked him for farting, we laughed and drank some more. We did some more stuff and I passed out on the floor … Hold on a minute … Did some more stuff, what stuff did we do? I felt my pores prickle with cold sweat. One thing I was sure about was that I didn't do weird stuff, no sir, I'm normal.
Suddenly, the long haired hippy who was standing on the other side of the door, assumed a monstrous appearance inside my mind. He didn't have a beard, but I pictured him with one, holding a floral bouquet and standing with the happiest grin of his life in a white wedding dress. I gagged a bit. “I must do the right thing and open the door.” I said to myself?
“Pardon?”
“Nothing, be right with you, just getting dressed.” Ah, I woke up with my clothes on, so that means nothing happened. I opened the door with a wide grin. “Hi!”
He crept under my arm and went for the sunglasses. He wore them on his head. “You going somewhere?” He noticed the suitcase.
“Depends.” I leaned out into the corridor to check for cops.
“On what?”
“You've been out today, what's the word on the street?”
“Huh?”
“The cops," I closed the door quietly, “they looking for me, right?”
“No.”
“Really?”
He walked over to the window, “nice view,” he restrained the excited curtain, you can really see the street up here now it's daytime.'
“I'm thinking of leaving for Biggadoo City today.”
“Oh, The Forsaken Joy already left port last week – won't be back for another three months.”
“I've got to get out of this place,” a donkey hee-hawed loudly outside, “it's driving me nuts.” For a second, I entertained the idea of throwing a tantrum: go completely wild and start tossing furniture around the room to make Jason feel uncomfortable, and induce a premature departure for us.
He sat on the windowsill, his streamlined face sailing through the breeze which puffed the curtains up once again like sails. “You should go to Biggadoo City,” He pulled out a rectangular tin from his pocket and played with it in his hands, “but I'd like to join you there when I'm done here, is that okay with you?”
to be continued ...
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