Grimsby pt. 5 (Patreon)

Declan greeted us with an “Oi, lads” as he walked past us to the kitchen. He took me completely by surprise. The beer, the weed, the fatigue, the everything had me zone out and only concentrate on what was immediately in front of me. The beer, the weed, the heat and smell of big Jace next to me, and the FIFA game I was slowly losing. I had completely forgotten the possibility of Declan. He returned from the kitchen, Stella in one hand and a Lidl bag in the other.

“O'Rourke down at 2 lit the grill. I bought some bangers for us. You coming Jace?”
“Always”

He threw down the controller on the table and got up. I still wasn’t grasping what was going down. Jace looked down at me as I aimlessly was moving my team around while trying to comprehend what was happening.

“You’ll lose. Come.”

I accepted what he told me, pressed pause and got up to join them outside. The afternoon sun made everything too hot and too bright, after smoking weed in front of the TV for hours. Jace and Declan talked about something as we walked down the street to number two. I was too buzzed to try to comprehend. I could see a small group standing at the end of the street, in front of us. They looked young, all dressed similar to us, perhaps with less shirts on, and everyone holding a can or a bottle in one hand.

“I got one left”
“What?”

I looked at Declan, followed his eyes towards his hand. He was holding out a nicotine patch towards me. I took it, removed the package and stuck it up inside my T-shirt, somewhere on the chest. Fuck, I’m still wearing the track suite from work, I realized. The one that didn’t smell like weed. Didn’t.

“This is Chayse. Lives in 10. He’s cool”
“Cheers mate!”

I took a swig out of the bottle of blue wkd in my hand and nodded towards the group. Where the fuck did I get that from? Who drinks that kiddie stuff? Just how fucked up am I, really? If they could tell I was high as a kite, which of course they could, they didn’t appear to give a fuck. Everyone was busy chatting, having a beer and whatever else they were doing. This wasn’t so much a party as it was a bunch of lads having a beers on the street, spilling out into the main road. A white, plastic outdoor chair was placed outside the door of number 2. An extension cord snaked its way from the house and was draped over the arm rest, with nothing plugged in. The BBQ setup turned out to be a couple of single use grills, coal on aluminium trays, probably bought at the nearest petrol station. Declan got a pack of vacuum packed hot dogs from his Lidl bag, tore it open, and dumped the sausages on one grill. One of the unfamiliar guys I’d just greeted turned towards me.

“Aight, did you catch Chelsea Arsenal?”
“Of course”

It was one of the games I watched with Declan, and I wasn’t even drunk or debilitatingly high, like now, when I did it. I even remembered some of what the commentators said.

“What you think about the first score?”
“It was his first for the season, was it?”
“Was it? You might be right, mate. What’d you think about it?”
“I can’t even describe it.”
“With you, mate. Fucking epic doesn’t cut it”

I shocked myself that I could string together some commentary fragments with empty statements and pass them along as conversation. Not wanting to press my luck I tried to be as agreeable as possible through all the footie talk.

“Oi! Bun!”

Declan threw a hot dog bun at me, which I didn’t catch, but quickly scooped up from the ground. Not trusting my dexterity I put down my blue wkd next to the plastic chair. I stepped over to the grill and grabbed one of Dec’s sausages in the bun. I realized I was starving, as I bit into the hot dog.

“This is fucking great, mate!”
“Lidl deluxe onion pork bang. Best there is. Farewell bang, innit”
“You’re leaving?”
“Want to beat the traffic. It’s been fun.”

I didn’t know what to feel. Most of all I was annoyed he’d drop the news on me like five minutes before he’d drive away. Communication wasn’t his thing though. But it felt like I was going to miss him. Without him I was back to knowing no one here. No, I know Jace, I immediately realized. It’s like a relay, where I’m handed over, moving further and further away from where I started. Declan didn’t know who I was, but he knew I wasn’t Chayse Brown, at least not this version. Jace only knew what I was now.

Someone from the group took a seat in the white plastic chair, and another one connected a clipper to the extension and started to buzz his head. I couldn’t see a difference, as it was short to start with.

“Hey, Declan. Thanks for everything.”
“Safe. Keep your phone charged.”

He walked away towards the car, stella in hand. I stepped back to the chair and grabbed the blue bottle. I took a swig out of it, and almost choked on my big gulp. It wasn’t my blue wkd but something far stronger. I looked at the label and saw a bottle of MD 20/20 blue raspberry. Still fucked up, apparently, because those bottles are nothing alike.

“Hey, are you stealing my shit!” shouted the boy in the chair, jumped up and started to puff his chest.
“No, I’m… mistaken”
“It fucking looks like you are stealing.” he was staring right at me, just inches away when he suddenly relaxed. “I’m just messing with you. That is yours?” he pointed at the blue wkd still standing next to the chair.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Here, take over from Liam”
“I don’t know how to… I’ve never used a clipper before.”
“Nothing to it. Just move it around until it looks even.”

Liam handed over the clipper to me as the boy got back in the chair. He was right. There was nothing to it. In a few more strokes, though probably much slower than proper, he looked “even”. Not that I would know.

“Here, take a seat and I’ll fresh you up for Friday. Yours looks pretty mint, but I’ll fresh the sides for you.”

I had no idea what he meant, but took a seat to go with the flow. He lathered the sides of my head all around with shaving foam, and then picked up a Gilette razor from a kitchen plate and started to shave my head. It was all bizarre to me.

“You do this a lot?”
“What?”
“Hairdressing”
“Just taking turns freshing up the lads for Friday. It happens.”

Someone new came up to me and stuck a can of Fosters in my hand. “Oi. I’m Connor”

I could feel the headache pulsate with my heartbeat as UK Bounce blared out of the phone’s alarm app. I was in my bed, no, on my bed, again without remembering getting there, and fully dressed. I would take the bus to the dock, I already knew that. Should I snooze or bother with a shower?

As I walked to the bathroom the door to the second bedroom was open, and I was reminded that Declan left yesterday. I wondered if he brought the plastic bag with my old clothes with him, or if he had already binned them. I looked into the room. A couch and a cheap home gym. I’d forgotten that it was even here, since I haven’t looked into the room since the first day. Fuck, that was only days ago.

My eyes were red and I looked like I was decomposing. By contrast my skull was shiny, like a doorknob with a round little carpet on top. The slits in the eyebrow were more pronounced too. Apparently someone touched them up, though I had no memory of it. What was the name of the guy? Liam?

I took a shower, and some of the magic is back. It felt so good. I was hoping that some 3-in-1 would wash off some grease and make me less shiny. I didn’t really do much, but then the people at the dock didn’t appear to give much of a fuck. I put on the the clothes I had on me when I entered the bathroom, lit a cigarette, and left the house. I felt like a zombie shuffling to the bus stop in the morning darkness.

I’ve finished my cigarette by the time I got there, but still craved more, so I lit another one and inhaled deep. Why didn’t I bring a morning beer? Because that’s not what actual humans do, a little voice in my head whispered. Still, would have been fucking nice right now. Luckily the bus peeked around the corner so I didn’t have to wait for long. I should probably learn the time table.

There were a few people on the bus, but not many. They were all staring like I wasn’t welcome. I guess I didn’t look my best after what I’ve been through. Saturday couldn’t come fast enough. I decided to sit at the back to avoid the glares of people. It wasn’t until I was just about to stomp out my cig I realized I was smoking on the bus. Fuck. And no one told me not to, not even the driver. In fact, I just realized, I hadn’t even paid fare. Why didn’t he tell me?

One glance at my reflection in the bus window, and I had my answer. I looked like trouble, and he didn’t want any. I felt guilty all the way to the dock, and plonked down two pounds at the driver as I exited the bus. Regardless what Liam, or whatever, said I did not intend to become a thief.

Drudge time.