Carnival Day

Nicholas boils up magic mushrooms for us, before we go to the carnival. Tim doesn't want any. Tim doesn't want to go.

Nicholas, Tim and I march down our street to the Treasury Gardens.

We go straight to The Xchange compound; we are meeting, Tim and Nicholas’s friend, Sophie there. Apparently. They all know Nicholas at the bar. He worked for 7 years as a barman at the Exchange. They all drink beer. I drink water.

We sit under an umbrella. Rachel arrives. She’s nice. Both Sophie and Rachel are lovely. (There is some indefinable something in Sophie that occasionally reminds me of Beck. Can’t put my finger on it.) We eat hot dogs after an hour. They all drink beer. I drink water. The beer almost gets Tim to stay, sweetens him up, but he leaves early saying he doesn't like poofs on mass in the day light. I think it is because he keeps seeing his past trade walk past. I don’t say anything. Nicholas leaves too.

We have a direct view to the stage. Drag Kings. Some strange Geisha Girl. Drag Queens. Big Numbers. Brodie Holland. A dog show that goes on forever. We, of course, can see nothing when the crowd gathers and the show starts.

Everything seems bright, crisp and clear. It is a glorious day. It is hot. I smoke a joint as the security guy hovers behind me. The wind is blowing the smoke away from him. He looks like he has smelt the dope once and hovers in my peripheral vision. Fuck ya, I’m comfortable. I don’t even hide it that well.

The gorgeous boy on the door has an incredible bulge in his pants. Tall, dark, masculine, pretty. I don’t think he is going to notice me, let alone where I’m looking. He does. He blushes and smiles. I put my sunglasses back on.

I sms Mark and Luke to see if they are at the carnival. They don’t answer, so I assume they are not. I watch the passing parade. Beautiful men pass by, like that’s a surprise. All afternoon. Sophie keeps giving me cigarettes. It is hot. I am so comfortable, I sit without a care in the world, as the world slides passed in Technicolor. Got to love acid. I think I love magic mushrooms. I can’t wait to try more.

I go to the toilet. I realise I’m tripping when I get up and move. I float through the crowds. Down a shady, tree lined, path. Lovely. Whoosh.

When I get back some straight friends of somebody’s have taken up residence in my seat in the shade. Rachel has saved me a seat in the sun. I want to stomp my feet, but, to tell you the truth, I think I’m sliding through the air with ease. Nothing is going to upset me. Who cares? About what. I just want to sit down. Ah!

Pretty soon I am frying. I get my face out of the sun, but then my arms are burning. I push back, I reclaimed the shade. All of you move along. Please. If you can. Sweet smile, my sunglasses cover my eyes. They do. Rachel leaves.

He-who-shall-never-be-mentioned drops by in a He-who-shall-never-be-mentioned flurry and sits awkward on the chair. We smoke a joint. We light up without a care saying, If we can’t smoke one joint under an umbrella on Carnival day, something is very wrong with the world. No security come. I spy Bruno way over in the distance. I don’t see anybody else.

Manny arrives. When I say to Sophie, I only know your name, as I try to introduce Manny, she whispers, I don’t know any of them either. The fat gay boy friend of Sara’s, who is the brother of one, or of all the straight kids, now occupying half of our shade, has left.

Sophie leaves. I think, I am sitting under a tent on Carnival day with a bunch of people I don’t know.

Manny grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. I think that is spooky. But they are friendly enough. I’m just gazing contentedly. Manny chats to them in his friendly, inquisitive way.

The straight blond boy faints in the heat, and hits the grass with a thud. His face is red and wet when he gets up, but still he declines an offer of a seat in the shade.

We sit. I buzz. Manny chats away. We both sit and gaze at the crowd. There is always something to look at. I look around and the straight kids have gone, I don’t remember them going. Manny and I watch the passing parade, commenting on the cute ones.

Gay mates of Manny’ turn up. I decide I've had enough of queens, as Manny’ mates gabber on like girls.

So totally interesting. So funny. So witty. Yak, yak, yak. I’d sat under that umbrella for 5 hours. It was time to go.

I bump into Jan Walters and Andrew Swift and Michelle, as I leave. They are all well.

It is gorgeous walking under the shade of the trees. Four feet in time. There is a cool breeze. I tell Manny about the beat in the middle of The Fitzroy Gardens. Shane’s car is parked in my street.

Rachel arrives at the gate with her cute 9 year old son Brandon, just as Manny and I do. Cute kid. Sweet. I reckon I’d like a nine year old son. Probably that window period between 8 and 10, kids are the nicest. Little boys are the sweetest. Tim and Nicholas are sitting on the couch.

I go up stairs to roll a joint. Manny comes up to find me. I sit on the balcony and smoke the joint. I lie on the bed rubbing Manny’s hairy tummy, as I doze.

Then he has to go home to eat. Gone by 8pm.

I lie on the couch with Tim and watch Law and Order. Neither of us can believe it is 9.30pm on Sunday night. We both, desperately, want it to be Friday night.

I sat at home with Missy, out by the pond, after I got home. In the still of the night air we watched the fish swim, we watched their fins break water, we watched them disappear again. Every cell in my body hummed.