of smashed teeth on his forearm. ‘Broken Teeth for life,’ he says, tapping his chest with his fist.
‘So you’re like the good guys?’
He snorts. ‘Hell, no. We’re all as bad as each other. All the clans are plentifully supplied with assholes of the highest order, though I’ll admit that Hekka being Pondscum does lift their average. Carrion control most of the porn, we have the best alcohol and drugs and Pondscum are like the enforcers.’
He looks at my face and frowns. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Just a sickening sense of déjà vu,’ I say.
He shrugs. ‘What did you expect? It
is
high school.’
We find a seat at the back of the train. I slump down on a seat that has been slashed with a knife but Nom can’t keep still. He gets up and looks out the window, then sits down again, all the time keeping up an incessant stream of talking that I am forced to just let wash over me.
‘You’re pretty … high-energy,’ I say eventually.
‘Hey, I’m an orphan raised by the bok-people in the Transkei. I can’t help it,’ he replies with a grin.
‘Bok-people, really? Do you know Klipspringer?’
‘Oh yeah, sure,’ he says. ‘All us bok-people know each other.’
‘No, it’s just—’
‘Just kidding, man.’ He taps me on the shoulder. ‘Relax, relax.’
‘So that must have been interesting,’ I say. ‘Growing up like that.’
‘What can I say? I’m the Xhosa Pan.’ He gives another huge grin. ‘It was like with any other family, it just kinda felt normal, you know. I’m glad, though. I learnt their animal communication magic.’
I laugh. ‘Animal communication? That’s almost as bad as my stupid abilities.’
Nom shrugs. ‘I like it. Look.’ He points to a cockroach that is scuttling across the carriage floor and then widens his mouth and emits a soft modulated hissing sound.
The cockroach stops in the middle of the floor and hisses back.
Nom hisses a couple more times and then the cockroach scuttles off beneath one of the bunks.
‘Interesting chap,’ Nom says. ‘Quite philosophical, actually. Most cockroaches are. Something about their—’
He’s interrupted by a small kid with long grey hair pulled back into a ponytail. He’s clutching a hessian sack, and two white rats scurry across his shoulders and head like they’re on a racetrack.
‘What’s up, Stevo?’ Nom asks.
‘Lotsa junkies in the batch of newbies,’ Stevo says. ‘It’s going to be a profitable term.’
‘Speaking of newbies, this is Baxter. Baxter, this is Stevo, Broken Teeth’s chemist.’
‘Pleasure,’ the kid says. ‘Oh, and these two are Hunter and Timothy.’ He stretches out his hand and the rats scurry on to it. Their eyes are huge and dark and they stare at me with extreme intensity. He holds out two tiny pieces of paper with the other hand and the rats bolt down his arm to chew on them. ‘They’ve been taking psychedelics since birth. They get a bit pissy if they don’t have their daily trip.’
‘You talk to them?’ I ask Nom.
Nom rolls his eyes. ‘I try not to. Always going on about mind expansion and the Buddha and shit. It’s tiring.’
Stevo looks at me and holds up the hessian sack. ‘What about you, newbie? I got hooch, I got dope, I got the best mushrooms you’ll ever have. What’s your poison?’
‘I’m OK,’ I say.
‘C’mon,’ Nom says. ‘Have a drink with us to celebrate your first day. Give us some Runeshine, Stevo.’
Stevo reaches into his sack and pulls out a dirty bottle filled with a clear liquid. He balances two plastic cups on the seat and pours us each a shot.
‘To new things!’ Nom says and holds up his cup.
I grab the other and pour the liquid into my mouth. It hits the back of my throat like the flame from a propane torch and I begin to splutter. ‘Holy shit,’ I cough, but instantly a pleasant feeling settles over me.
‘It’s good, am I right?’ Nom says with a grin.
‘Yeah.’ I mirror his grin. ‘You’re
‘So you’re like the good guys?’
He snorts. ‘Hell, no. We’re all as bad as each other. All the clans are plentifully supplied with assholes of the highest order, though I’ll admit that Hekka being Pondscum does lift their average. Carrion control most of the porn, we have the best alcohol and drugs and Pondscum are like the enforcers.’
He looks at my face and frowns. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Just a sickening sense of déjà vu,’ I say.
He shrugs. ‘What did you expect? It
is
high school.’
We find a seat at the back of the train. I slump down on a seat that has been slashed with a knife but Nom can’t keep still. He gets up and looks out the window, then sits down again, all the time keeping up an incessant stream of talking that I am forced to just let wash over me.
‘You’re pretty … high-energy,’ I say eventually.
‘Hey, I’m an orphan raised by the bok-people in the Transkei. I can’t help it,’ he replies with a grin.
‘Bok-people, really? Do you know Klipspringer?’
‘Oh yeah, sure,’ he says. ‘All us bok-people know each other.’
‘No, it’s just—’
‘Just kidding, man.’ He taps me on the shoulder. ‘Relax, relax.’
‘So that must have been interesting,’ I say. ‘Growing up like that.’
‘What can I say? I’m the Xhosa Pan.’ He gives another huge grin. ‘It was like with any other family, it just kinda felt normal, you know. I’m glad, though. I learnt their animal communication magic.’
I laugh. ‘Animal communication? That’s almost as bad as my stupid abilities.’
Nom shrugs. ‘I like it. Look.’ He points to a cockroach that is scuttling across the carriage floor and then widens his mouth and emits a soft modulated hissing sound.
The cockroach stops in the middle of the floor and hisses back.
Nom hisses a couple more times and then the cockroach scuttles off beneath one of the bunks.
‘Interesting chap,’ Nom says. ‘Quite philosophical, actually. Most cockroaches are. Something about their—’
He’s interrupted by a small kid with long grey hair pulled back into a ponytail. He’s clutching a hessian sack, and two white rats scurry across his shoulders and head like they’re on a racetrack.
‘What’s up, Stevo?’ Nom asks.
‘Lotsa junkies in the batch of newbies,’ Stevo says. ‘It’s going to be a profitable term.’
‘Speaking of newbies, this is Baxter. Baxter, this is Stevo, Broken Teeth’s chemist.’
‘Pleasure,’ the kid says. ‘Oh, and these two are Hunter and Timothy.’ He stretches out his hand and the rats scurry on to it. Their eyes are huge and dark and they stare at me with extreme intensity. He holds out two tiny pieces of paper with the other hand and the rats bolt down his arm to chew on them. ‘They’ve been taking psychedelics since birth. They get a bit pissy if they don’t have their daily trip.’
‘You talk to them?’ I ask Nom.
Nom rolls his eyes. ‘I try not to. Always going on about mind expansion and the Buddha and shit. It’s tiring.’
Stevo looks at me and holds up the hessian sack. ‘What about you, newbie? I got hooch, I got dope, I got the best mushrooms you’ll ever have. What’s your poison?’
‘I’m OK,’ I say.
‘C’mon,’ Nom says. ‘Have a drink with us to celebrate your first day. Give us some Runeshine, Stevo.’
Stevo reaches into his sack and pulls out a dirty bottle filled with a clear liquid. He balances two plastic cups on the seat and pours us each a shot.
‘To new things!’ Nom says and holds up his cup.
I grab the other and pour the liquid into my mouth. It hits the back of my throat like the flame from a propane torch and I begin to splutter. ‘Holy shit,’ I cough, but instantly a pleasant feeling settles over me.
‘It’s good, am I right?’ Nom says with a grin.
‘Yeah.’ I mirror his grin. ‘You’re
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