S.W.A.T. (book 2 of the hexology in seven parts)

It was the longest day of 1991. I had just dropped out of full time education, and had returned to the ancestral pile to reevaluate my future. Was I planning a bright future? No, I was stood in the pouring rain at a junction of the M6. With my hitching signs kept dry, by clear plastic folders. On the top was a cartoon of a thumb up hand, and below it my destination. I was off to Portsmouth for a weekend of fun. After an hour of looking hopeful at every driver passing, a businessman thankfully on his way to Bristol, took me down most of the way. I forget after all these years what we talked about. But in traditional payment for the favor, I kept the conversation going. Until he dropped me off a lot further south, than when I had started. My next ride took me into Portsmouth through “Howard’s way county”, as my lift informed me. Having made surprisingly good time, I had to hang about for several hours to meet my friends.

Back in those days Mobil phones were the stuff of science fiction, or just a plaything of the rich. Luckily the weather down in Portsmouth was much better than up in Birmingham. So I lay on the beach to wait. When my stomach said it was teatime, I headed to the address I had got on a scrap of paper. My friend answered the door, greeting me with, “You’ve got a tan I see.” Following him inside I met the others. Some were in residence, and others had made the trip by motorbike. We watched the last episode of Twin Peaks, and decided the coffee cup scene had been filmed backwards. Awaking from a drunken stupor the next day, a few of us headed for an amusement arcade. Every seaside town had one. Inside was a penny fall machine; you will have seen one. You roll a coin down a track, and the moving levels push the pile of coins towards a drop at the front. With some skill and luck, we spread our scant coins over the bank of machines. Soon we had enough won, for a slap up breakfast at the local cafe. This was going to be a good weekend.