In Chapter 60 of Out of the Chocolate Box we venture into Holly’s head and the realm of her dreams. What does the dream reveal about Holly? And “hoons”? What are “hoons”?
I had jogged as far as the sand dunes on this hot summer’s morning with my friend, Mika. Yes, that’s right, that crazy bag lady who hit me over the head with a bag full of rocks at the beginning of my tale; the Mika who married and then divorced Fox, was once my friend…apparently. Huh? That’s strange. Oh, well, it’s a dream. I’ll go with the flow.
Anyway, Mika wanted to keep fit. My big brother called her “Fat Cat”. She wasn’t fat—not now that we’d been jogging together each morning this summer. She had her eye on Fox…
She woke me up at the crack of dawn to run.
‘Can’t we give it a miss, today, Mika?’ I pleaded. I’d had a late night at youth group—five in the morning was just too early. My body ached like I reckoned a corpse would feel warmed up. ‘Hope we don’t meet any mutants.’
She raced along as if mutants were chasing after her.
Mutants appeared from nowhere, for their early morning swim. Their sack-like bodies flopped in the water.
Then the mutants spotted us. And they were after us.
‘Wanna go out with me?’ one asked his tongue hanging out in anticipation.
Another followed us like a shadow. ‘You be my frwend?’
I was too kind-hearted to say, ‘No.’
So, he loped after me as if I were leading him like a dog on a chain.
‘Come on! Lose the limpet!’ Mika bolted away.
We sprinted towards the jetty. Our “friends” ran out of puff and couldn’t keep up.
At the beach swings we rested. An unshaven man with rancid breath, tried to grab me. We fought him off and took refuge in the porch of the ice-cream shop overlooking the beach. It was still early. The ice-cream shop, called a “deli” was closed.
Mika and I decided the best course of action was to walk back via the main road. That route, we’d avoid any unwanted advances from the mutants and sleazy old sand men. As we strolled along the road, the remnants of Friday night celebrations in the form of a panel van waiting for some action, pulled up beside us.
Mika muttered, ‘Ugh! Hoons!’
Two young lads stuck their hooded heads out of the opened passenger door. ‘Eh, jump in my car! We’ll take ya home! No warries (sic).’
Their faces were shrouded in the hoods. Who could tell what they looked like? We politely declined the offer as we did not accept lifts from strangers, especially not ones wearing hoods.
Mika and I giggled as they drove away action-less.
‘They were game,’ I said.
‘And dangerous!’ Mika said. ‘Wish one of them was Fox, but.’
We giggled again.
The panel van pulled up again.
‘It must have circled the block like a shark,’ Mika laughed.
‘Eh, don’t I know you from somewhere?’ one of them called from the van door. I looked. Günter?
‘I don’t think so,’ I replied. We’ve all had that line thrown at us at one time or another. We ducked down the nearest side street and hid behind some bushes. The panel van prowled around the block a few times and finally drove off into the oblivion of my dream.
© Lee-Anne Marie Kling 2019
Feature Photo: Brighton Beach Summer © L.M. Kling 2017