In him I see...

'Arge' I said with a dreaminess 'Is beyond perfect.' I grabbed at Merlin's hands and stared deep into his face. 'He...is...beyond perfect.'

Merlin motioned for me to jump on his back and I did.

'Like...beyond...amazing.' I continued. 'Like...an angel.'

'Arge.' Said Merlin. And then, like he had found enlightenment in my ramblings 'Is beyond amazing!'

I could see Dean and Blackum slightly ahead chatting to a skinhead who gesticulated wildly with riotous excitement. The thousands of footsteps around me and the caress of a hundred conversations made me feel safe in this acid driven madness. Merlin's Mohican smelt of glue. And I snuggled my face into his neck trying to find warmth and safety. Mumblings of activity ahead began to pass down the line and reach our ears. Blackum ran back to update us.

'You fucking high? I'm fucked! They say the pigs are ahead and have blocked off the route. They are asking us to move into the field and back to the site. They want the roads cleared. Are you fucked too? Is she awake?' He tapped me on the shoulder 'Cause if she isn't awake you're fucked. Are you fucked up man? I am!'

I was awake. I was lost in this world of Merlin's shoulders and of Arge's perfection and of the smell of glue. Here, with my eyes closed I imagined that his whole body was coated in a thick layer of glue. He was sticky and I was stuck to him. Merlin tickled my feet.

'Claire, you got to get down girl. You got to walk for a bit.'
'I can't'. I said, because I truly believed that I was stuck to him. And I expressed surprise as he bent his legs and laid me to the ground with ease. 'You're not sticky anymore!'

A Helicopter began to roar overhead, sweeping across the crowd and shining a light down upon us. There was a sudden and dramatic change in the atmosphere of this place and it seemed that everyone but I was shouting.

'They're through the fucking fence. Fucking run for it!' screamed someone from somewhere. I stood transfixed by the light of the helicopter and felt Merlin grab my hand and drag me forwards. He had a studded belt wrapped around the knuckles of his right hand but he smiled at me and held me tight. A loud voice came from the sky mesmerizing me again...

'Move back. Move back to the fence line.' Boomed the voice.

I thought that maybe God was speaking but Merlin said it was the helicopter.

The next thing I remember was that the crushing crowd was moving the other way towards us. We were swept in this tidal wave of panic back down the road at running pace. I screamed with glee as the adrenaline fed my already drug fueled mind and ran happy with the knowledge that Merlin was so sticky. I knew I could not lose him.

'Fucking watch it mate!' Screamed Merlin as I was knocked to the ground by a desperate escapee with blood on their face. He pulled me up to standing and we ran again. The crowd suddenly changed direction, moving into a field to our left, so we followed like sheep to a slaughter. I could feel every beat of my heart and some of Merlin's. The two of us stood in the centre of this chaos, mouths agape, no clue which way to turn.

I looked at Merlin, here in this field with us and them, his trousers for some reason lay around his ankles and his face played with an animated and theatrical grin. He was, I thought, my brother.

"Hey Man!' Merlin called out to the person standing nearest us 'What the fuck is going on?'

'We've been told that the site is blocked off by the pigs now. We are waiting here for the police to let us in and get our vehicles.' This man had sweat dripping from his face and head. He scared me. He didn't feel safe like Merlin.

Merlin pulled up his trousers and replaced the studded belt. 'So if we haven't got a vehicle, which way should we go?'

'That way,' said the scary man pointing to a road on the opposite side of the field 'will take you back to Amesbury.'

I smiled at Merlin. Merlin smiled at me. We headed towards the road with a sense of smugness. Henge, I thought, was yesterdays news.

Home. In more ways than one...

Merlin and I found the bus station with ease and the bus station found us exhausted. My feet were bruised and aching and my mind still muddled from LSD, yet I was relieved to be heading back to a place of familiarity. It would however be more familiar than I could have guessed.

The second bus from Salisbury wound the country lanes and saw the acid begin to leave my system. I so desperately wanted a home to return to. I could not help but silently sob as Merlin slept beside me. Now that things were fucked up with John and Gypsy and the bender site was no longer an option, I was petrified at the lack of choice that lay before me.

I thought about sex.

I thought about the possibility of disease and why I let them touch me. I did not think that I could stop. I thought of the phone number in my pocket and of the man with the promise of omelette's and a camera in his hand.

If I had Aids would I have a home?

Would they have to house me?

If I were seriously ill, would others love me and care for me?

If I had Aids then everyone who stuck their dick in me would die. Hospitals would let me sleep there. They would give me drugs and make it better.

They would die slowly and painfully. So might I.

I stepped off the bus in Bath leaving Merlin sleeping on the seat and I felt his arms around me like a dream of what had come before.

This man came from the shadows of the walls and he wrapped me tight.

'I had to find you!' he said. 'I should have never have let you walk away that day!'
'What are you doing here?' I asked. 'How did you know I'd be here?'
'I asked around and heard you'd gone to Amesbury. I wanted to be here when you came back.' he stroked my face but stayed behind me 'I wanted to hold you again.'

'I hate you.' I whispered 'You hurt me more than anybody ever has.' But I was grateful for his arms.

'Come with me.' he asked 'Let's go for a coffee.'

That coffee would be filled with tears.

The cafe was a workman's one. Filled with cheap formica tables and wipe clean seats. We sat in a booth at the back and I snuggled up against his body, not quite able to shake the acid-cold from deep within despite the rising Summer sun. I looked up at this man's face and hated him so. I was drowning in the familiarity of him, of memories of skin on skin and him and me. I blamed him for everything and I was filled with fear that I would leave this cafe and return to all that was before.

He stirred the coffee slowly, leaving the spoon still in it whilst he drank, just as he always had.

'I know what I did to you was wrong. I know that you hate me. I just want you to know I am OK with that.'

'I am frightened of you.' I sobbed. 'You sit here and you tell me you are sorry but it's not enough.'

'You are part of me.' he pleaded 'you destroyed me too. I know what you have done. I sometimes sit and watch you. I see the lot of them with you and sometimes I just know that they lay where I should be.' He squeezed me tighter. 'I have to go. But if you decide you want to see me again I will be at the Roundhouse Pub tonight after seven. Waiting for you'

'Where will we go? I asked.

'We'll go home.' He offered.

In him I see everything.

Continued...

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Link to article on the 1988 Stonehenge Festival riot