Little Men - The E Book (19 page)

“I work in the City. On the futures and options exchange. I’m just a runner at the moment, but hoping to move on soon.”

“It’s tedious, ain’t it? You finish school and you think, that’s it now. I’ve learnt everything. I can start work.”

“It’s just the bloody beginning.” Simon nodded in agreement. “I’m still doing exams now.” They both laughed.

The drinks arrived. Lager for the men. Strawberry Daiquiris for the women.

“Where are you staying?” Tony asked.

“Here in San An. Great nightlife. What about you?”

“Other side of the island, mate. Santa Eularia. It’s dead compared to here.” Tony looked around him, the neon light flashes reflecting on his burnished brown skin and eyes. There were groups of young men and women everywhere, laughing and drunkenly stumbling around. Denise looked at him ominously. She knew what he was thinking. He was like this with his mates back home. As soon as he’d had a drink he became loud and obnoxious. He couldn’t just leave it at one or two either. He had to drink until he fell over. This was the other side of Tony, the side she didn’t like. He became impulsive and unpredictable as well as devious and deceitful.

The evening wore on and the two men sank more and more beer. It was uncanny how much they had in common. Both aged twenty-two, and been with their girlfriends for about a year. They had similar personalities, loud and outgoing. Every so often one would tell a joke and the other roar raucously with laughter, while the girls looked on, bemused.

As the two men polished off their fifth glass of beer each, Simon’s attention turned to a family sitting on a table directly in front of them within their line of vision.

“Look at him,” Simon whispered under his breath. “He looks happy!”

Tony spluttered, trying to suppress his laughter. “Fuck me, yeah. Christ, he’s on holiday, surely he could cheer up a bit.”

They looked on through their boozy haze, smirks on their faces. A young lad of about sixteen was sitting at a table with a middle-aged man and woman, maybe his parents, although it was impossible to see any bond between the three at this particular moment. The kid’s body language spoke volumes. He was looking down sullenly at his food, aimlessly pushing it around his plate with his fork. He looked utterly miserable and incapable of any communication with anyone around him. Tony studied him for a moment from the distance of his table.

“He looks like one of them… what do they call it? Romantics?”

“New Romantics,” corrected Denise.

“Yeah, but gone wrong. Look, his make-up’s smudged!” Tony and Simon again roared with laughter. The pale, skinny, miserable teenager didn’t look up. He was oblivious to all around him as the two adults sat stony-faced next to him, not speaking, just grimly eating their meals, both looking like it was the last place they wanted to be.

The evening drew to a close, the restaurant emptied out, with Simon and Tony still in fits of giggles and the two women looking slightly embarrassed.

“What we gonna do now?” Simon asked. “The night’s still young!”

Tony needed little encouragement. “It’s time to paint the town red!”

“Well, I’m going in, I’m knackered,” said Nicola.

“Oh, come on. We’ve been to bed early every night we’ve been here. Let’s have some more drinks.”

“Nah, I’m not up for it. You three go.”

This put Denise in a difficult position. She knew she couldn’t go out drinking with Tony and Simon. She could never keep up with two men drinking lager, and she knew from experience that Tony wouldn’t want her around anyway. He was like that. He could be very selfish at times. She also didn’t want to spoil Tony’s fun by ordering him home. He might come, but he would resent her for it. It would cause arguments and possibly ruin the rest of the holiday. She knew she had no choice.

“You two go, I’ll get a cab home.” Secretly Tony celebrated. A night of freedom out with a new male partner in crime. He wasn’t too bothered about Denise. He knew she wouldn’t be happy, but she couldn’t begrudge him
one
night out, surely?

Reluctantly, Denise left in a cab and the two men headed for the bright lights of San Antonio.

Simon and Tony soon realised they had a similar tolerance of alcohol, i.e.: they could both drink an absolute skin-full. They moved from bar to bar downing beer and shots. They met women, they would chat and flirt and occasionally dance and fool around.

One thing they did differ on was music. Tony liked soul, while Simon liked soft rock. It was hard to find a bar that played either, let alone catered for them both.

It was 3 a.m. and even the hardened drinkers began to slow down. They approached a small bar with an open front called Sancho’s in the West End of San Antonio. They both sensed it would probably be the last drink of the evening. The bar was still reasonably lively and Duran Duran’s Notorious
was blaring out of the speakers. As they crossed the threshold, a body fell from the crowd and dropped lifeless in front of them. It was the pale teenager from earlier!

He lay in front of the two men, motionless; his face ashen white, his dark eyes closed. Simon and Tony froze looking down, not quite believing what they had just seen. Suddenly, they were shoved out of the way.

“Help him then!” They were pushed aside as a man crouched beside the teenager, forcing him into the sitting position. A long-haired man dressed completely in orange slapped the young boy, trying to bring him to.

“Get some water!” he shouted. Simon disappeared into the bar.

Eventually the boy blinked and coughed. His head swivelled erratically as if it wasn’t attached properly to his shoulders. He shuddered then lurched forward. Again the man in orange tried to prop him up.

“Help me hold him!” the man yelled. Tony stooped behind the boy and tried to pull him to his feet. The man in orange helped as they guided the lad to one of the metal chairs on the patio of the bar. Simon returned with a glass of water, and two beers in the other hand. The boy quickly came round as he drank the cold water. He blinked, and eventually smiled at the three men looking at him anxiously.

“You fucking scared us there, kid. We thought you were a gonna!” said Tony.

“He’s just had too much to drink, eh kid?” said the man in orange. The boy mumbled something incomprehensible, then looked at the three men.

“Shhh…shtay with me for a minute, will you?”

Simon and Tony looked at each other doubtfully.

“Of course we will, kid.,” said the orange man, glaring at the other two. “Right?”

“Er… yeah,” said Simon, thinking it might be entertaining if nothing else.

“My name is Swami Anand Michael,” the man in orange said. “You can call me Mike.”

“I’m Charles,” the kid said. There was a silence.

“Er, this is Tony and I’m Simon,” said Simon, regretting his decision to buy the two beers. The four men sat awkwardly at the table. Tony and Simon were sobering up fast. They nervously sipped their drinks. Mike was doing all the talking. He was genuinely concerned for Charles, notwithstanding the fact they’d only just met.

“Where are your friends?”

“Not got any. I’m here on my own,” Charles said in barely more than a whisper.

“Have you been drinking all night?”

“Yeah.”

“Drink is wrong. You seek solace in the booze. You are looking for enlightenment in the wrong places. You are pushing out your demons, but they will come back stronger and faster and harder. If you continue to drink like that, you will never be truly free.”

Again Tony and Simon looked at each other and smirked.

“You just fancied a drink on holiday, eh kid? And had one too many. We’ve all been there!” said Tony.

“Wise words, my friend. But I sense torment. Disharmony is in the air. Our young friend is troubled, are you not?”

“I don’t want to live any more,” Charles said.

Mike looked pleased.

“Tell me more. Nothing is so troublesome as to want to relinquish life. Life is a gift bestowed on a privileged few. What on earth is the problem?”

Charles remained silent. Tony and Simon looked on, slightly bewildered as a scruffy-haired, bearded man in orange robes spoke in riddles to a suicidal teenager who had drunk too much. Eventually Charles spoke.

“Everything’s fucked.” Tears sprang from his eyes. “I hate the world.”

“Hate is a very cruel discourse and a negative emotion that is no match for the world. The whole world is far too noble a subject to have something as miserable as hate imposed upon it.”

“Just let the kid speak,” said Tony.

“My mum brought us here for a fresh start. Said it would bring the family back together. But it didn’t work. My fucking stepdad fucked it up, as he always does.” For the first time, Charles raised his voice. His eyes flashed with anger.

“Ahhh, families,” said Mike. “Now it becomes clear. The cause of much strife among young people. But also so unnecessary. Your family is always there for you, to help you and guide you in your journey towards enlightenment.”

“Not mine,” Charles quickly replied. “My stepdad can burn in hell.”

“If you go to hell willingly, you will be happy there. If you are forced into paradise you will hate it.”

“That’s hardly the point,” said Simon. Everyone ignored him. Charles needed to get things off his chest and he’d finally found an outlet, albeit an utterly bizarre one.

“My dad died five years ago… and my mum took up with this religious freak. He’s a vicar. A… fascist if you ask me. He tries to control me and Mum, but he can do no wrong in her eyes… He tries to stop me wearing… this. Listening to my music. Says it’s work of the devil. What’s wrong with a bit of Soft Cell and Culture Club? He just doesn’t understand. He’s a homophobic twat.”

“Ahh, now I understand,” said Mike. “It’s true. There is no god other than life itself. Those who follow organised religion are truly narrow-minded and will never be free. They are our biggest enemy and are despicable. But they are not beyond hope and deserve our love.”

Simon and Tony sniggered.

“And I fucked up all my exams,” Charles added.

“Again, that can make a man’s summer wretched. But there is hope. There are far more important things in this wondrous life than exams, my friend. I can save all three of you.”

Tony glared at Mike.

“We don’t need saving, mate.”

Mike ignored him and produced from somewhere a handful of something. They looked like brightly-coloured sweets. He swallowed one.

“Take one of these, dear friends. You will find what you are looking for. Your mind will become free. Your body will be in control.” Mike handed the three men one each.

“What is it?” Simon said, eyeing the small capsule suspiciously.

“A tablet of absolute and total love,” Mike replied. “Normally retail for over twenty quid, but you can have them for nothing, dear friends.”

“They’re drugs?” Tony asked.

Mike smiled mysteriously.

“They’re whatever you want them to be. They truly have their own personality. Like little men.”

“What the hell.” Charles swallowed his. It couldn’t possibly make him feel worse than he already did.

“Fuck it. I’m on holiday,” Tony said and swallowed the capsule. Not to be outdone, Simon did likewise. There was a weird bond between the four men. Strangers a few hours ago, the unusual events of the evening had brought them together.

“What now?” said Tony.

“Let’s all have another drink,” said Simon.

“Please enjoy, my friends, but I have a pressing engagement. I cannot stay.” With that, Mike stood up, put his hands together in a praying gesture. He bowed his head slightly and was gone.

The remaining men sat at the table, slightly bemused, looking at each other. Eventually they stood up and wandered into the more crowded bar area. The cacophony of music temporarily prevented any further conversation.

Again Simon brought over a round of drinks. Tony was more subdued now. Both he and Simon were thinking how they could get rid of Charles and get on with their evening. It was the first time of the holiday for both of them that they’d managed to escape the clutches of their respective girlfriends, and they were determined to make the most of it.

Charles was positively beaming. He had also escaped, but from the smothering confines of his parents, and had found some new friends. They were older, streetwise and cool. Everything he wasn’t. There were girls in the bar, lots of them. He was free to drink, dance and enjoy the music, something he could never do at home. His stepfather governed the house like a strict schoolmaster. Alcohol was banned completely. Charles couldn’t use his stereo at all during the week. He was rarely allowed to see the few friends he had. Tonight had been the final straw. They had been out for a miserable meal together. As the three of them disconsolately walked back to their hotel, Charles did a runner. His parents had been gazing in a shop window, completely ignoring their son. He suddenly darted up a side street towards the busy throng of people in the centre of San Antonio. His parents turned, startled, only in time to see him disappear into the crowd. They would never find him tonight, and Charles doubted they would even try. His stepfather would never venture into bars looking for him. He believed alcohol was the work of the devil. His mother would cry, of course, she did it a lot. His stepfather would reason with her that he would come back when he was hungry or ran out of money.

The three men stood in the bar. It was getting late. They sipped their drinks as the music pounded in their ears. Eventually Simon spoke.

“Why are you looking so happy?” He addressed Charles, shouting to make himself heard above the noise.

“Yeah, you looked like you were gonna top yourself earlier. What’s happened?” Tony said.

Charles grinned. He still looked pale, but his face had changed. His eyes shone. He couldn’t put into words how he felt. For the first time in years he felt free. His parents had controlled him for too long. He was nearly seventeen, his own man. They would be nothing to him soon. He could break away. It was a fantastic feeling. And he had some cool, new mates.

“I’m just, y’know, enjoying the summer!” Simon and Tony laughed. The tension of earlier had dissipated. Maybe Charles was okay after all. They wouldn’t normally be seen dead talking to a sixteen-year-old kid with bad make-up, but they both identified with him. It wasn’t
that
long ago that they were teenagers themselves. They both felt a strange sense of pride that the kid seemed to so admire them.