I didn’t see Skye for another couple of days. During this time, my parents sat me down at the dining table for what was clearly going to be a serious discussion. I thought I was in some kind of trouble, but all they wanted to tell me was that, due to the fact that Mum couldn’t leave Nana alone for an extended period, we wouldn’t be having a proper summer holiday that year. Instead, we were going to stay a few nights at a bach in Port Levy owned by one of Dad’s friends.
‘Sorry it’s going to be so short this year,’ Mum said. ‘We’ll only be there for four days.’
I wasn’t disappointed in the slightest. I didn’t want to go on holiday with my parents at all. I wanted to spend as much of the summer as possible with Skye and the gang.
The next day, Skye called at midday and asked me: ‘How much money you got?’
‘Um, twenty bucks, I think.’
‘Cool. Bring it over to mine.’
‘When?’
‘Now. Quickly.’
I did as she instructed and pedalled furiously over to her house. The sky was metallic blue and the sun beat down on the back of my head. Skye was waiting for me at the front of the house, sitting on the steps and smoking a cigarette.
As I dismounted, she strode over to me and said: ‘Come on.’
She led me down the driveway, along the street and out onto Riccarton Road. At first I thought we were heading to the bottle store, but when we marched straight past this I asked: ‘Where are we going?’
‘To buy dope. Remember, I told you about my plan.’
I felt a tremor of nerves. I had no idea what was going to happen next. What was Skye getting me into?
We walked for a further couple of blocks and then turned down a quiet side street. Eventually we stopped outside a run-down, weatherboard house that stood behind a rotting fence. The paint on the walls was peeling and the windows were smeared with dirt.
Skye lowered her voice. ‘The guy in there sells dope. He’s a dealer.’
I took my cue from Skye and spoke quietly as well. ‘How do you know he’s a dealer?’
‘Someone at school told me. A seventh-former.’
‘Have you bought dope from him before?’
‘No.’
‘Have you ever bought dope?’
‘No. Why?’
‘Nothing. I mean, you sure about this?’
She screwed up her face. ‘Of course. It’s just buying some dope. You’re not going to wimp out on me, are you?’
‘No.’
‘Good.’ She snapped her fingers. ‘Give me the money.’
I handed over my crumpled notes and she slipped these into the pocket of her jeans. Then she walked to the far end of the fence, apparently looking for an entrance even though the only way in was obviously the driveway. She walked back to me. She seemed to be dithering.
She squinted at the house. ‘You think anyone’s home?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Maybe the guy’s out.’
I had the sense that Skye was nervous and trying to back out of her plan. I quickly replied: ‘Yeah, he could be out. We should come back another time.’
She licked her lips and stared hard at the house. I was hoping she would agree with me and give up on the whole idea, but she suddenly marched up the driveway and over to the front door. I scurried after her, glancing up at the dark windows and the cobwebs hanging from the gutters.
She knocked on the door and the sound seemed ominous and fateful as it sailed across the silent suburb. Soon the door swung open and a man peered out at us. He looked to be in his late twenties and had a mop of curly hair and a gaunt face.
‘Yeah?’ he said.
‘Are you Mike?’ Skye said.
‘Nope. Who are you?’
‘Can I speak to Mike?’
‘You can speak to him when you tell me who you are.’
I noticed Skye clenching and unclenching her fists. ‘I’m Skye. I’m a friend of Steve Brockhurst’s. Steve told Mike I was coming over.’
The man’s eyes flicked over to me. ‘And who’s this?’
‘Amy,’ Skye said.
He studied us for a moment, then said: ‘OK. Wait here.’
He shut the door and left us waiting for several minutes before he reappeared and allowed us to enter. We followed him down a gloomy corridor and into a shabby lounge. The curtains were drawn, but there was enough light for me to see that the walls were covered in stains. What looked like a motorbike engine lay on sheets of newspaper in one corner of the room. Another man, also in his twenties, sat at a table, puffing on a cigarette. He had hair down to his shoulders and his cheeks were covered in stubble.
‘Mike?’ Skye said.
The man at the table gazed at her through a haze of smoke. His eyes drifted over to me and then back to Skye. ‘How old are you two?’
‘Eighteen.’
‘Eighteen?’ The man snorted and glanced at the other man. They both chuckled. It was obvious they didn’t believe Skye.
‘Steve said he told you I was coming over,’ Skye said.
‘Did he?’
‘Didn’t he say anything to you?’
The man took a long drag on his cigarette but didn’t reply.
Eventually Skye said: ‘You are Mike, right?’
The man ashed into a saucer, sucked on his teeth for a while, then finally said: ‘Yeah, I’m Mike.’
‘Cool. We want to buy an eighth.’
Mike looked amused. ‘An eighth? Really?’
‘Yeah.’
He stubbed out his cigarette. ‘OK. Thirty-five bucks.’
‘Steve said it would be thirty.’
‘Steve’s not here, is he? It’s thirty-five. Take it or leave it.’
Skye shot a look at me, as if she wanted some kind of support, but I didn’t know what I could do or say to help her. I didn’t even understand the conversation she was having with Mike. What was an eighth?
Skye turned back to Mike. ‘All right. Thirty-five.’
Mike stood and motioned with his head towards a door in the far wall. ‘Through there.’
Skye went with Mike through the door. I was about to follow them, but the other man stepped in front of me, blocking the way. ‘You can wait here.’ He gestured towards a battered couch. ‘Sit down.’
I hesitated. I didn’t like that Skye and I had been separated. I had no idea who these two men were and what they were capable of. I started imagining all kinds of terrifying scenarios.
‘Sit down, for Christ’s sake,’ the man said.
I didn’t want to annoy him, so I perched at the very end of the couch.
The man sat next to me, closer than I would have liked. I pressed myself into the arm of the couch, trying to move as far away from him as I could.
The man picked up a can of beer and waved it at me. ‘You want one?’
I shook my head.
He arched an eyebrow. ‘Suit yourself.’ He cracked open the can and took a sip. ‘You live round here?’
‘No, over in Avonhead.’
‘You go to school?’
‘Yeah.’
‘What school?’
‘Burnside.’
I immediately wished I hadn’t told him this. I didn’t like the idea that he might be able to track me down.
‘I’m Tony.’ He held out his hand to me.
I really didn’t want to, but I felt obliged to shake his hand. He gripped me hard, and for a second I thought he wasn’t going to let go, but then he released his grip.
‘Where’s Skye?’ I asked.
‘She’ll be back in a minute. You want to watch TV?’
‘No thanks.’
‘Jesus, relax will you. You look freaked out.’
The irritation in his voice made me even more anxious. My heart started beating faster. I wished Skye would reappear.
Then he put his hand on my leg. I jumped instinctively, as if he’d dropped boiling water on me.
I shot to my feet. ‘I want to see Skye.’
He looked bemused. ‘She’ll be back soon.’
‘I want to see her now.’
I was about to make a dash for the door, but then Skye strolled casually back in with Mike trailing behind her. They were both smiling and seemed at ease with each other, as if they’d just shared a joke. Skye beamed and showed me a clear plastic bag containing a large clump of dried marijuana.
Mike picked up a joint from the table and waggled it. ‘You girls want a smoke before you go?’
‘Yeah, cool,’ Skye said.
I grabbed Skye’s arm. ‘We should head off.’
She frowned at me. ‘It’s fine. Let’s have a smoke.’
‘I really think—’
‘Just relax.’ She shook off my hand.
Tony smirked at me. ‘Yeah, relax. Listen to your mate.’
Skye sat on one side of Tony on the couch, while Mike positioned himself at the table again. That left the space on the couch I’d just leapt up from. I did not want to sit next to Tony again, so I balanced uncomfortably on the arm of the couch, as far away from him as possible.
I was sullen and barely spoke any more. I was furious with Skye for insisting we stay.
Mike lit the joint and we passed it between us. I deliberately only inhaled a small amount as I didn’t feel like being wasted around Mike and Tony. The dope seemed strong, though, and I was soon feeling even more paranoid than before. I decided that Mike had lulled Skye into a false sense of security, and that the two guys planned to trap me and Skye and do something terrible to us. Perhaps they would murder us and bury our bodies. Then my photo and Skye’s would appear in the papers below a headline that said something like: ‘Two Christchurch Girls Go Missing’. My parents would be sick with worry. And the police would search for us. But they would never find us, because we were lying under the ground in Mike and Tony’s back garden.
My breathing became shallow and rapid. I had the horrible sensation I was going to suffocate again, just like the first time I’d got stoned. I tried to tell myself everything would be OK, that I wouldn’t die, that Skye and I would get out of the house safely. But I couldn’t manage to convince myself.
Finally Mike stubbed out the last of the joint, and Skye stood and said we were leaving. My heart was still bashing in my chest as I walked down the passage behind her and stumbled, blinking, into the brilliant sunshine. I looked back once as Skye and I walked down the driveway. I half expected to see Tony staring at me or even running towards me with an axe. But the door was closed and the house looked as quiet and dark as when I’d first seen it.
I was shaking a little as we strode towards Riccarton Road. But Skye was smiling and laughing.
She elbowed me. ‘A whole bag of dope. A whole fucking bag.’
I smiled tepidly. I was still irritated with her, although I’d decided not to let her know that.
‘That guy Mike’s OK,’ she said. ‘He was cool.’
‘Was he?’
‘Yeah. He smoked a joint with us for free. He didn’t have to do that.’
‘I guess.’
‘At least we’ve got someone we can buy dope from now, eh? No more pissing around nicking stuff off Obie.’
I gave a slight nod. I had to admit this was a good point, even though I didn’t like the idea of going back to Mike’s place. I definitely didn’t want to see Tony ever again.5Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJpTqgR5RvA
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Later I began to learn the language of purchasing cannabis – eighths, quarters, foils, tinnies and the like. But the first time Skye and I bought anything, all I knew was we had a big bag of dope. The two of us giggled as we examined it in Skye’s bedroom. It looked like clumped oregano, but when we opened the bag we could smell the unmistakeable scent of marijuana.
I watched as Skye rolled a joint: sticking together papers, laying out a line of dope, carefully moulding the papers into an elongated lozenge. It was a ritual I was to become intimately familiar with as the months went on.
After we’d finished smoking and felt the usual magical haze descend upon us, Skye’s eyes lit up and she gripped my hand excitedly. ‘I’ve had a brilliant idea. Liz and Jade are going on holiday in a few days. They’ll be away three nights. You should come and stay here. Then we can get stoned every day. And we’ll have a party on the last night.’
‘What about Obie?’
‘He’s hardly ever here. Don’t worry about him. It’ll be wicked.’
I couldn’t stop grinning. ‘It’s a great idea.’
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