Sex, Drugs & No Idea

24: Shroom for Improvement

It was later on that they found out that the poor, dumb prick who fell off the zip-line had died from massive head injuries.

The six lads, along with the two Swedish girls, headed out to dinner at a rather groovy, eclectic looking establishment they'd spied the previous day. They all took a seat on cushions on the floor at a cosy corner table––all except Dang who'd stopped off to buy some weed on his way inside.

They happened to be discussing the incident, explaining what had happened to Golem, when Dang returned with his news bulletin.

"Just heard about that bloke who fell off the rope-swing thingy, boys," he said in his usual unhurried manner. They waited for him to continue, but he seemed to have spoke his piece for the time being. Charlie had a feeling he'd been sampling the drug-dealer's wares.

"And, you goddamned mongoloid?" prompted French. "Is he bad? He looked fuckin' bad."

"Well," said Dang slowly, "he's not likely to get any worse––"

"That's good."

"––because he's dead."

That shut down the talk as effectively as a gunshot, and there wasn't a resurgence in the chat until the menus arrived with the first round of beers.

Happily, the talk didn't take a turn to Serious Town, thanks to Hugo's discovery that the bohemian establishment they found themselves in sold magic mushroom shakes.

"Shall we get some?" Charlie ventured.

"'Course we're going to bloody get some, man. How often do you get to order hallucinogenic drugs in a restaurant? Honestly..." Hugo said, shaking his big head.

The mushy-shakes, when they came, tasted like shit––worst than that, in Charlie's opinion, they tasted like banana.

"Not a fan of the phallus fruit, Charlie?" asked Golem, as he swallowed another mouthful of the foul concoction and shuddered from base to apex.

"No. No I don't. It's bloody awful."

"Why don't you like it?"

"I just don't like the taste."

"How d'you mean?"

"How do you mean how do I mean? My tastebuds revolt. I dunno why."

Eventually Charlie got the whole ghastly thing into his body and, amazingly, it seemed to be willing to stay there.

Inevitably the talk slunk, like a disreputable dog, in a round about way to the unfortunate individual who'd fallen to his watery doom that day. Charlie put forth enough grunts of agreement and random head shakings so as to seem involved in the conversation, whilst maintaining a safe seat on the periphery. After a little while, he sat back and watched the flames of the candles on our table flicker and dance.

In the blackness of the flame's heart he saw Sophia. He could hear the sound of her voice in his head like a music, although not her words. Her face wavered and flashed and, suddenly, turned into that of Lily Larkin. She smiled and Charlie smiled back. His stomach was infused with a wholesome warmth.

"Charlie? Charlie? Charlie?"

Charlie snapped back to the present. "Hey? What?" he said.

"You alright there, bro?" Dang asked with a laugh. He gave Charlie a slap on the shoulder. "You already tripping, boy?"

"Uh," Charlie said, looking at him and then looking back at the candle. "Nah, I was just––"

"Tripping?"