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Great Writing - Home > Extended > English Slacker chapter two
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Extended Work
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| English Slacker chapter two | |
| By chrismorton | ||||
| 12 May 2008 | ||||
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So Paul or Alex had come up with the idea for us to go over to Thornberry for a walk to the trig-point which is like this place where all the families go for walks at the weekend: By the time we'd got to the entrance at the top of the hill I was feeling pretty wasted. We got a few looks as the van pulled in to the car park. One guy even telling us to, “Turn the music down,” like one minute after we'd stopped, which I couldn't help finding a bit funny actually, you know, how all the families out for their weekend walk must've viewed us: Even so I kinda kept my amusement to myself ‘cause Paul was already going off on one about how people were always treating him like that just ‘cause he was different from how, “Society demands,” and all that. So yeah, we were gonna roll a few up first but there were too many people around and it was too fucking hot to be sitting in the van with the door closed so we took the gear with us, Alex grabbing his stereo too, whacking on a bit of Ray Zachia, and we headed across the gravel to the entrance. One father made some comment about, “Those hippies, listening to nigger music,” as we walked towards the gate, which really pissed Paul off again. But instead of saying anything back Alex just turned the stereo up louder and we all kinda swaggered past, using all the effort in the world to keep ourselves looking serious and then we cracked up once we'd got through and out of sight. It didn't take us long to get to the trig-point. Once there though it was pretty crowded so we couldn't roll up as planned. Not that it really mattered to me ‘cause I was feeling stoned enough already but for Alex and Paul it was more of an issue – Alex was telling Paul to, “Just skin up.” He was all like, “Go on, nobody's gonna do anything,” and, “What do you think's gonna happen?” but Paul wasn't having any of it. As they were arguing over where they were gonna roll the next one I remember entertaining myself by watching all the people as they went past, imagining what their lives were like and why they were there and what their stories were and if they were happy or depressed and stuff. The trig point at Thornberry is one of those big ones pointing to places as far away as the other side of the world, like New Zealand and Canada and that. Big enough to sit on which is what we were doing, I guess stopping people from having a proper look; although no one said anything to us or anything. Anyway, after we'd smoked a couple of fags and I'd stared at enough of the passers by Alex decided we should sit right on the white horse and roll another joint there, which we agreed was a cool idea. Despite it being hot Paul was still wearing his fur jacket which I remember ‘cause it got caught on the fence on the way over, making this tear right down the inside and all this white fluff was spewing out all over the place and for some reason I really wanted to laugh but neither of them were laughing about it so I kept it in and concentrated on the view in front of me instead as I slid down the slope using my hands as brakes. It was kinda awesome actually, well good to look at. Pretty much your average sight of a patchwork of fields and cows and sheep the size of dots and the odd spec of a person, but with the Amular River looking like a tiny trickle of water and the cliffs in the background it was well impressive. At first we weren't gonna sit actually on the horse ‘cause of getting chalk on our arses but after Alex sat down I guess me and Paul thought, “Fuck it,” and joined him. And after moving a couple of stones it was comfortable enough. After that... well, thinking about it now, we didn't talk much when we were there. It was too hot to do anything but smoke. Although Paul did tell a few Essex-girl jokes which sent us into laughing fits at one point. And I learnt how to make a simple bong by using an old can that we found and putting two holes at the bottom with Alex's pocket-knife. But that's about it as far as our conversation went. We just lay there feeling the heat as the morning turned to afternoon, listening to Alex's made-up collection of Music for Summer Drives.
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