***
The unknown female artist sang LIFE’s swansong. Alex had been gone for just over one hour and his return was now overdue. The record finished and he opened his eyes. He supped his second pint and studied the studious man and his interactions with the six women. There was some interesting interplay here...
The transition period took no more than twenty seconds. It was as though Alex’s brain had finally managed to tune into the language band. Steadily, from ‘static’, there emerged words: fragments at first, but soon whole sentences:
‘What about this stuff on EU voting procedures? – it goes on for pages!’
‘I don’t think we need that – hope not, anyway.’
The English Language Speaker was back, and, like a tyrant, it forced all conscious thoughts to relay through it. He now heard the words, but the day’s events were still being taken for granted. Then, all at once, it dawned on him. He suddenly jumped up, disturbing the table and knocking over glasses. He turned and laughed hysterically at a shocked and speechless Hammer.
Not surprisingly this sudden display startled his drinking companions; Keith made his excuses and lumbered off while Cube and Hammer helped the now-trembling Alex from his seat. Together the three of them left the union bar.
Outside, in the cool afternoon air, Alex spoke for the first time:
‘I’m okay, I’m okay – let go, Cube.’
‘You’re back with us!’ said Hammer.
‘Yeah, sorry about that scene in there, I s’pose it came as a bit of a shock, huh?’
‘Yeah, I almost shitted my pants: you seemed to be doing fine – away somewhere in your own little world – and then voom! you really let rip, didn’t you?’ Hammer’s rather simple view of Alex’s outburst helped to break the ice. Everyone laughed.
‘Hey, I’m starving,’ said Alex, ‘let’s go get a burger.’
Alex and the others dropped into a nearby burger bar, ordered their food and sat down at one of the tables. But then Cube suddenly decided he needed some onion rings, and so he returned to the counter.
‘What does Cube know?’ asked Alex.
‘I bumped into him on my way over, I told him everything.’ Hammer shot him a guilty look. ‘Hey! I thought Cube might be useful, you know? If you started freaking out, or something!’
Alex nodded, he had become distracted by his throbbing right knee.
‘So, ... what – was – it – like?’ asked Hammer, wide-eyed with anticipation.
Cube rejoined the table and Alex began recounting the various happenings: he described his observations from the bridge and of the chatting couple; when he came to the events in the pub, The Ship, the others became fascinated. Strange, this seemed the least interesting aspect of the whole trip. Getting across the underlying vibe of the experience was tricky. He couldn’t even fully grasp it himself. But, as Head magazine had reported, it was, in essence, about the moment. A subtle point that was clearly lost on both Cube and Hammer.
‘Who was this geezer with the “recognized face”,’ laughed Cube, as he crammed more burger into a fully crammed mouth.
Alex put a name to the face. ‘Jimmy Sutcliff, bloke on Geoff’s course.’
‘Sutcliff? The guy’s a dork, you’ve painted a picture of some great threatening devil!’
Cube had a point. In a social situation, one that demanded the speaking of words, LIFE’s effect could cause no end of trouble. The Ship fiasco had clearly demonstrated the risks: in the space of just two minutes he’d smashed a pool cue, threatened an innocent patron and been literally hurled out of the pub. Next time it would be useful to bring along a minder, a ‘sober-sitter’ – Cube himself, would be ideal.
Hammer spoke up: ‘The pool cues in The Ship are four-foot long and weigh a tonne, how could you smash one over your knee?’ Another good point.
‘My knee is killing me now.’
‘What about when you were tripping?’ asked Cube.
Alex considered the question, ‘I don’t recall any pain, but diaketamine was first developed as a painkiller, a stimulant painkiller.’
When they’d finished their meals Alex checked his watch: coming up to five. If he departed for home now, he could get back in time to watch Neighbours. He would bring Bridgett a burger, as a treat – a peace offering.
Alex left his friends and journeyed back to his flat in Deepdale, a deepening chill exposing the poor credentials of this early-spring sunny spell. After about twenty minutes the busy street of Deepdale Road, with its typical tail-backs of evening commuter traffic, came into view.
Gil was washing his paws and sitting on the front wall of his house; the cat suddenly looked up as Alex slipped between the stationary cars and crossed the road.
‘Hello, Gil, how are you doing?’
Alex searched his pocket for a peanut but then decided to treat the cat to something better. He opened the Styrofoam burger-box and attempted to remove a portion of burger but Gil quickly snatched it all and ran off.
‘Hey, come here you bloody thief!’ But Gil and the burger were gone.
On entering his empty flat Alex promptly spied Cube’s file on statistical mechanics; retrieving it, he began to read the first few pages: mathematical treatments of Paul Dirac’s quantum theory... He checked his watch: ‘Time for Neighbours.’
The file was discarded.