In Loco Parentis Read Online Free PDF Page B

business.
    Mike and Wolf pick them up and swallow them down, swigging Special Brew to stun their tongues.
    Vagrant puts on the kettle to make mushroom tea.
    The rest of us make sandwiches. We sit down together, nibble and pull faces.
    I imagine slugs in my mouth which doesn’t help.
    We watch Mike and Wolf stroll out and set to making a fire, always eager to get things going. They pile up wood into a neat wigwam, smoking as they work.
    Inside, we’re all done. We sit in a state of shock, happy it’s over. This time, none of us has puked. It’s a cause for celebration.
    The fire’s enormous. Half the party’s gathered round.
    Stars wink down at us. I spend time joining them together, inventing constellations. The truck. Tank. Ava Gardner. Elvis. Speedy Gonzales.
    My hearing’s gone. Fades in and out like someone’s working my volume control. Makes me laugh to think of it.
    Mike’s over under the trees. He’s showing some Tai Chi moves to a girl he’s chatting up. I don’t recognise her. She’s one of the locals. Good for him.
    To see him now you’d never think he’d been in the Marines. He’s got the shaven head all right, but the Tin Tin fringe flopping out from his cap and his many-ringed ears are more eco-warrior than soldier. He never talks about the military world, but I know they taught him plenty. I wonder if chatting up women was part of the brief.
    Across the fire from me’s a stranger place.
    Wolf looks like his name. Always does. I guess that’s where it comes from. Never thought to ask.
    The Vagrant’s skin is pure white. Looks like his ghostly soul has returned to wander the earth just like his body used to.
    Noddy’s face has aged, has taken on something of Nosferatu.
    I wonder if I’m tripping or if it’s Halloween, then from somewhere remember it’s summer.
    Whatever it is, I can’t stop staring at them.
    â€œAll right JC?” Wolf asks and throws something at me.
    Takes a while for it to get over. I pick it up and smoke it. “All right Wolfman?” I think of Wolfman Jack, of Rock and Roll, imagine that the air is full of music.
    It’s only when Wolf starts pacing that uneasiness creeps in.
    I feel like my mind has been wired to his. Look out for Maxine hoping she can help, but there’s no sign.
    Nobody else seems to notice. Everything else is the same. The Vagrant is still lying by the fire. Nosferatu keeps giving me the eye.
    Mike and the girl have gone.
    Wolf runs over to me. Puts his arm around my shoulders.
    â€œShit man. I’m going mad.” His incisor teeth are larger than normal, which is saying something, his beard looking strangely alive. “I’ve lost my mind.”
    A wave passes through me. It’s cold. Terrifying. The heat of the fire is suddenly gone.
    I stand up and get close. Whisper to him. “Let’s go inside.” Check to make sure nobody has read our thoughts. I can’t be sure. We slope off treading lightly as we go.
    We enter somebody’s bedroom. A double bed, blankets, wardrobes. A dressing table is full of his and hers. The floors are bare.
    Pacing to and fro like a captive lion, Wolf holds his head and mumbles.
    â€œI’ve lost my marbles. They’ll never be found ever again. Will I always be like this? JC? Tell me if I’ll always be like this.”
    There’s no way I can answer the question. His madness is spreading. “No idea, Wolf. Will I always be like this?” I’ve joined in the pacing. Back and forth, back and forth.
    His face is twisted, like he’s been cooked on a skewer.
    I feel my own with my fingers to see what it’s doing. It gives nothing away.
    Something funny happens to time. I can’t tell whether what was last said came an hour ago, ten seconds or maybe never escaped anybody’s lips at all. It’s certainly not helping. I wonder if it’s my turn to say something or