Glassy eyed smiles for the wind...

For those that are new. The begining...

Barefoot but less honest.

That's how Bath found me this time round.

I stepped from the train onto the platform and took the deepest of breaths. I walked down to the Sport's Centre Car Park and sat where the box used to be.

Was this my home?

I thought that I should build it again. Even if I chose to never sleep here, I couldn't bear the thought of it not existing. I had money now. A bank account that stored the funds of sin, but I didn't want to spend it. That Claire, the one that had earned it was gone for now. It was about nine o'clock and the Autumn air was cooling fast.

I built my box again.

As I placed the last board on top an angry voice called out, 'This place is for people parking fucking cars, not for dossers like you.'

I turned to face the manager. 'This,' I said and I pointed at the box, 'Is my fucking car.'


I walked along the canal, down past the Boater and the Cactus Club and headed for the Bender Site. I needed drugs and reckoned on a visit to my Gypsy Queen. The site was quiet when I arrived. Polly and a man I did not know were sat about the fire. I kissed Polly on both cheeks and she smiled up at me, eyes stoned and lazy.

'Gypsy in?' I asked her.

She sighed and smiled again. 'Of course she is.' Then as an afterthought, 'Oh, I almost forgot. Someone was here looking for you.'

'My Dad?'

'No. Not your Dad.' I felt silly for suggesting it. 'A boy. Called Shane. He's staying in a squat in town but came down here to find you.' She tapped the chillum on a fire stone to clean it out. 'Pack me another one Womble.' She said to the man, 'And put some lavender in it to scent my lungs.'

I climbed the fence and pulled my coat tighter to my body. I could hear her voice amidst the chatter of others.

'Gypsy!' I called out, 'It's me, Claire. Can I come in?' Gypsy's face appeared from between the slit in the tarps.

'Well fuck me!' She cried, 'Fifika's back!'

She reached out an arm and welcomed me inside. The fire was roaring in the burner. Nick was there, so was Andy, sat at the back near the bike, looking through a box of tapes.

'Give her the fucking dog.' Said Gypsy, sitting on the edge of the bed and wrapping a fur around her shoulders. 'We've got a dog for you.' She smiled.

'Where is it?' I couldn't see a dog. Wasn't sure I wanted one either.

'Nick, show her the dog.'

Nick lifted a small flop of black from his lap and held it high in the air. I wouldn't have known what it was if I hadn't already been informed, not until the dog turned to face me and I saw the white of an eye and the pink of a tongue.

'Some girl dropped it round for you last week.' Said Nick. 'I told her you'd fucked off to London but she said it was your dog now and she left it here with us.' He held the dog out to me. 'He's called Yang Dog.'

'Yang dog.' I repeated. I grabbed the tiny ball of fluff and held it to my face. 'Hello Yang.' And for that I earned a lick. 'How old is he and what does he eat?' I asked. I had never owned a dog before.

I tied a piece of rope around his neck and wandered back to town with a new address in my pocket and a life to live.

I pressed the bell for Flat No.6 and waited. Moments later a window flew up and a head popped out. Collin smiled down at me,

'Shane, it's for you!'

Shane greeted me with the biggest hug. I hugged him back. He led me up the stairs to this new abode. The first room was huge. High ceilings decorated with molded cornices and a beautiful Georgian fireplace. There was little furniture, just mattresses and blankets, but it had a cozy feel and it had, remember this, a beautiful fireplace.

I was surprised to see Little Claire still around. Her and Collin shared a room at the back of the squat and she told me that she played her flute to make money near the Abbey steps. Shane and Matty shared the main room along with Sara, one of the Hippie Goths that I knew from the Boater.

So here we were a week later. Six people, three men, three women, one dog and a fireplace, all sharing this space we called home, when there's a knock on the door about midnight and it's the Spaceman.

'I come' said the Spaceman 'Bearing drugs for all.'

'You sound like a fucking musketeer.' Said Shane and he gestured for the Spaceman to join us on the mattress. 'This may be a stupid question Spaceman, but what drugs do you have exactly?'

'Acid.' He replied.

Shane put an arm round the Spaceman's shoulders. 'How about,' he smiled 'I swap you a couple of grams of speed for twelve tabs.'

'Is it Gypsy's speed?' Asked the Spaceman.

'This, my friend,' said Shane with a wink 'Is the best damn speed that money can buy.'

Shane pulled the Sherbert Fountain from his pocket and tapped a good pile into the Spaceman's hand.

'That's not fucking speed. It's Sherbert.' He said, proving himself more lucid than we had thought.

'Damn right Spaceman.' Said Shane. 'But look at it this way. Where the fuck else are you gunna get a couple of grams of good quality sherbert at this time of night?'

The Spaceman considered this point before saying 'Well I'll keep the Sherbert and you can have the tabs for a pound each.'

To this we agreed.

I remember nothing until the weir. After the weir I remember it all.

The Weir

We are laughing and playing on the grass of the maze. Chasing each other around the stone path, leaving trails of colour from our fucked up minds.

I danced. I think.

There are two new faces with us and they have scrumpy and tobacco to share. In return we give them the spare tabs of acid. After, we all sit with out feet dipped in the ice black water of the river. I laugh lots with my friends, with this new couple and with the drugs.

'Let's climb over to the weir!' Suggested the new man. His name was Mark.

I could feel the rush of the water as it poured over the steps of the fall and plummeted down. I could taste the cold of the water as it lapped against my legs. But still I looked over at the suggested climb and smiled.

Glassy eyed smiles for the wind.

I was the second person to find her way to the beam. I would not have noticed that at the time but with the benefit of hindsight; for there to be only the two of us left at the end of this - then there must have only been two of us there at the start. I recall being encouraged to take the hand held out to me and the roar of the water getting deafening loud. The sound of it rushed my twisted mind, you could taste its spray. I took the hand and found myself with feet on metal and back to something.

Eyes closed I held that hand and trusted it to take me safe.

Even with my eyes sealed shut the colours did not stop. The street lamp burned a red and gaping hole and filled my mind with thoughts of blood. The sound of water became a rushing in my veins. I was petrified now and I wasn't sure how long it had been since the hand had stopped pulling me on and had gripped me tight instead. I opened one eye and looked down.

Fucked up.

That was stupid.

I looked at him but I saw only fear. I think I said his name but all he did was stare.

I closed my eyes again and squeezed him back.

'I d-d-don't like this.' Mark stuttered 'I've not done acid before and I don't like this.'

I whispered back, 'I don't like this either. Take me home.'

And then there were the faces on the bank. I wanted to go back to the bank, I really did, but the faces on the bank were not smiling anymore.

They were judging.

The trip, gone bad, was changing things.

'They are talking about us.' I panicked. 'They see us holding hands and they think I'm fucking you. I'm cold.' I screamed 'I need fire!'

'Don't let go of my hand.' Pleaded Mark, 'I just want to get off of here.' I heard the sound of breaking glass and imagined the worst.

'They're going to kill us.' I tried to step towards him, to the other side of this beam, but his body blocked my route.

It seemed really fucking cold now. I fought for lucidity, desperate to organise my actions and enable my body to complete the task at hand, but failed.

They were definitely waiting to kill us. They thought me a slut. They did not trust me. They did not really like me. I had nothing left but a hand to hold.

I waited. Waited for the voices to stop and the noise to disappear.

I looked.

'I think they've gone.' I whispered to the hand I held. I moved slowly, bare feet sore from their time on cold metal, I risked it all and edged towards the bank.

The acid roared.

I fell haplessly from the beam. Relieved to be on land and not above the water. I reached up and grabbed for Mark. Safely down, the horrors did not ease. The silence of the maze and path reminders that our friends had gone. That Shane had gone. I took Mark's hand again, his eyes were full to bursting with the thoughts that he was letting in; I ran, dragged him up the steps of stone towards the street.

'Make it stop.' He begged.

But I couldn't. I couldn't even make it less.

We ran until we hit the door and I pressed the bell and hoped for kindness. I longed to curl up by the warmth of the fire and sleep these demons gone.

Why is he holding a fucking axe?

Nick answers the door with a grin and a weapon. Mark pulls to run again but I hold him there, wide eyed.

The demon that answers the door is smiling. He smiles at us all the way up the stairs, him and the axe.

Back in the room there is chaos, but that is just my mind. The room is white and full of mist. Shane is sat on the floor getting his hair cut by Matty. The fire, roaring in its grate is moving - moving out of the grate and to the tiled hearth in front. The Gypsy Queen has a shovel and I think her responsible for this but her arms move too fast for me to be sure. Yang dog barks confused by the demons, Sara sings, Little Claire shouts, the new girl sobs, Mark screams, the fire jumps and leaves the grate and still the acid roars.

Shhh. I cover my ears and try to make it happen. There is no sense in this room at all.

Shane takes my hand and walks me to the back of the squat, to Collin's room.

'Your trips gone bad.' He held my face and looked into my eyes but he looked different without his hair. In his army combat fatigues he looked more like a soldier. 'You need to calm down. You need to get happy, look, here's Yang Dog. Say hello to Yang Dog. He's missed you.'

I shook my head and looked at Yang. He smelled yucky but familiar and he rooted me a little back in this place.

'Are you mad at me?' I asked. Crying now. 'I didn't fuck him. I was just scared of the bridge and scared of you.'

Shane smiled and hugged me. 'I'm not mad at you babe. I shouldn't have left you. I'm mad with myself.'

I lay with him on the floor near the window of this room and we ignored the screaming and the banging from the one next door. We held hands and giggled at the madness of the night and I stroked the stubble of his hair. He had kind eyes. How could I think them evil?

Take Two - the good trip

We are laughing and playing on the grass of the maze. Chasing each other around the stone path, leaving trails of colour from our fucked up minds. There are two new faces with us and they have scrumpy and tobacco to share. In return we give them the spare tabs of acid. My girl dances for us. She holds her hands up to the sky and she dances with the devil in her.

I like that.

I want to swim in the water of the weir but we chicken out as our toes plunge into its cold. I sit, holding her hand and feel the power of the river. I wish that she was dancing still. She dances well.

'Let's climb over to the weir!' Shouts Mark. And I laugh and lay back on the cold of the stone. Feet still in the water. I feel her hand slip from mine and watch her dance again. She dances all the way to the base of the steps and then she disappears for a moment from the orange into black. I cannot help but smile at the perfectness of this. We are all of us happy with sin.

The girls run back to the maze, giggling. I follow them and we write our names in the air with the tips of our cigarettes. Fascinated, I watch the glowing lines trail with red and spark the night. Matty places the empty scrumpy bottles on the wall of the maze and he and Kat throw stones to make them smash.

'Watch out.' I shout, 'Claire might cut her feet and then she will not dance for us.'

Because I want to dance and sing and lie with her.

Walking to the base of the platform I see her there, still strong, still mine; and I beg her back to dance for me and show me the devil again.

Claire looks at me. She smiles the smile. 'I'm cold,' She cries to me 'I need fire.'

'Fire' I roar. 'I'll make you fire!'

Then I run and tell the others, 'Let's go back and make fire. Have you ever seen one before?'

_________________________________________________

The fire is burning now and I wait for her to come and dance for me. Collin is cutting Matty's hair with the clippers and I watch with fascination as the green tufts fall.

'Are you sure they're OK on their own?' Asked Collin, before he shouted out the window to Gypsy 'Come on up.'

Matty waves the clippers at me and I sort of figured 'Why not?' New girl, new start.

Tools thrown down with attitude and metal clanks on metal and some on tile.

Sparks fly and I watch the fire move. I see the room fill with smoke and choke on its suffocating white.

Matty is shaving my head and the buzzing makes me happy.

'Where's my girl?' I ask. But no one seems to know.


Take Three - The Fire

'The fucking fire's lit!' Said Nick. 'What we gunna do? We can't steal a burning fireplace, can we.'

'We'll put the fucker out.' Said Gypsy. She rang the bell with scar tipped finger. 'They must be off their faces by now anyhow. Spaceman said they bought two tabs each.'

The window opened and a skinny voice called out 'Come on up.'

Gypsy threw the bag of tools in front the fire. 'I'll put the fire out,' she said to Nick, 'You start hacking around the mantle.'

As the axe swung high the girls began to scream.


The Future...


Shane was blond. I never usually went for blonds. He offered me a little too much for a week long love affair I thought.

I was up before the rest and I headed for the kitchen. The only food was a large bag of long-gone-soft carrots and a bottle of oil. I sliced the carrots thinly and fried them up for breakfast.

The huge gaping hole where the fireplace had been was proof that I was done here. There was just one place left to go. I kissed Shane on his sleeping cheek and tucked Yang Dog under my arm. Walked slowly to the Car Park.

'My box!' I said to it. 'Yang Dog, meet the box. Box, meet Yang.' I recalled the days when this place built me whole again. I touched the wood of its roof, bent down and flicked the switch; felt the heat of its vent once more.

'Goodbye Mr Box.' I said. And somehow I knew that this was Goodbye for ever.

As we left the car park the voice came back.

'I've got something for you.' The angry voice. The Manager's voice.

He held a folded piece of paper. I held my dog.

I placed my puppy on the ground and stared at him.

'What's that?' I asked. 'Your number?'

He flicked the paper at me with disgust. I watched as it fluttered aimlessly to the ground and he walked off.

'Well what can that be?' I asked Yang Dog, for want of someone better to ask. And I picked the paper up and carefully unfolded it.

'That' I said to Yang, 'Is fucking hilarious!' I screwed it to a ball and threw it after him.

A bill for eight hundred pounds.

One years parking fees for the parking of my 'box' without a ticket.

'Well it was a car after all.' I said to Yang Dog. He skipped at my feet and I patted him on the head. 'Come on boy, we've got a fucking train to catch.'

And Cheapdate is born.

It's over...

57,003 words, the length of a novel spanning just two years, but it is definitely over. There is nothing left to write of her.
Before we continue, before we leave this blog and join the next, I ask that you open your mind and push the comfort zone...
You may made need to stretch it until it bleeds

She is Cheapdate. Hear her roar.
Continued...