Sophie's Throughway Read online

  “Mmmm, it’s nice darling,” I lied. “What is it exactly?…it has an unusual flavour.” I carried on eating it and tried to swallow quickly without chewing too long so I could get it over with. Karl was doing the same and giving me that ‘WTF?’ look.

  “Exactly what is this Brendon, it has a very weird taste?” I was slightly concerned because you couldn’t fully trust the hygiene of teenage boys. You never knew what they might have been playing with before they went into celebrity chef mode.

  “Did you both wash your hands before you made this?” I stopped mid spoonful as I stared at him. Karl had already finished his and put his plate on the coffee table.

  “YES! OH.MY.GOD. Mum, just eat it. You’re such a control freak!”

  I finished it off and decided to make a cup of tea to wash the peculiar taste away and hope to God I wasn’t about to get food poisoning.

  “I’ll make you a drink,” said Brendon uncharacteristically. “You two just sit down and get ready to kiss the sky.”

  “What’s going on Brendon?” I asked sternly, not liking his weird behaviour.

  “That cake you’ve both just eaten is a hash brownie.” He roared with laughter. “There’s some serious skunk in there and you are so going to be able to chill out and relax for once!”

  I looked at Karl and Karl looked at me. We then looked at Brendon with utter disbelief.

  “Come again?” I said, “hash brownie? A HASH BROWNIE? Are you GODDAM KIDDING ME?! PLEASE TELL ME THIS IS A JOKE AND YOU HAVEN’T JUST DRUGGED YOUR PARENTS…”

  “Don’t worry, it’ll take about half an hour to work and you’ll feel great. Chill out man! You both need to,” Brendon stated, with no concern or remorse at what he’d just done.

  “Brendon…I CANNOT believe you have done this to me…I really can’t…what the hell?” I gushed, trying to think. “Since when have you been taking Marijuana? Seriously…You know, YOU, the child who wouldn’t even entertain Ritalin because it masks your real personality. The one who is always telling me that alcohol is bad, and fatty foods and you should train hard and look after your body. Now you think this is OK? So now you do drugs?”

  “And,” Karl interjected, “I am supposed to be driving home – did that cross your mind? Now I can’t go anywhere. You’re an idiot.” The darkness filling his eyes brought back the memories of the violent outbursts between them and I froze for a moment, waiting for the explosion.

  “CALM DOWN. Sheesh.” Brendon threw his arms in the air, trying to diffuse the situation. “And this is the problem: the war on drugs. Actually Mother I only have it now and then, which is a lot less than most people. All teenagers at school are doing it. It doesn’t hurt you, it’s not addictive, and no one has ever died from it. Not like they do with alcohol or tobacco which IS legal. DUH. You don’t get aggressive, like with alcohol, you just get happy and chilled. How is that bad? Anyway, I knew you’d react like this so I’ve sent some links to your e mail from YouTube, Harvard scientists, Reddit, and ‘The Amazing Atheist’. Shit, that dude is awesome!”

  This is what he did to me. Always a step ahead of the game and bombarding me with information to support his crazy actions so I couldn’t argue from the seat of my pants.

  “IT IS STILL AN ILLEGAL DRUG. HELLO!” I shouted, “AND I DO NOT WANT YOU TAKING IT. END OF. AND I CERTAINLY DON’T WANT YOU DRUGGING ME FOR YOUR OWN ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES. YOU’RE THE CONTROL FREAK!”

  “It’s legal in Colorado and California,” he justified.

  “This is ENGLAND not Hollywood!”

  “Well, it should be legal. So should prostitution, cocaine…anything. It’s peoples free choice. Taking away freedom is bad. There’d be a lot more money if the government legalised weed and put tax on it. There’d be more jobs, more money for health centres, less money spent on policing petty drug crimes. Pound for pound, marijuana costs more than gold, so think about it. Read all the information and understand the facts before you start going psycho.”

  “Freedom? Oh freedom! Right! What about MY FREE WILL? Oh wait…YOU just took that away by giving me WHACKY CAKE!” I retorted.

  Karl lifted his hand to indicate he wanted to speak, like we were in a board meeting or something. “Legalising drugs is a ridiculous idea and only something a nearly sixteen year old would say. Marijuana is a gateway drug for a start. What next Brendon? Ecstasy? Cocaine? If we legalise any drug you’d have a bunch of muppets who never did anything in the country.” Karl removed his coat and pinched the top of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. I knew he was getting annoyed but now it was not his place to start a fight in our home.

  “You’re living in the dark ages Dad, get on the RIGHT side of history.” He shook his head and left the room.

  “I can’t believe he’s done this.” I looked at Karl who was rubbing his hand across his mouth and developing that tight, mean look on his face.

  “I’m going to have to stay here now.” He looked over at me with raised eyebrows to question if that was going to be alright. “I can’t feel it working yet though, maybe I’ll be immune to it.”

  “Yeah, that’s fine…did you have plans tonight?” I felt terribly guilty and parentally inadequate. “I can’t feel anything either but then I never did when I was younger and tried it.”

  In my past I’d often had a draw on some boyfriends’ roach at a party but had never experienced that cool and easy reggae vibe that everyone else did. I think I was just too hyperactive and the nearest thing to have possibly got me into that state would be getting shot with a wild animal tranquilliser.

  “No plans especially.” We both sat there for several minutes in silence, shell-shocked and awaiting some sort of revelation.

  And then it happened.

  I felt the faint onset of nausea. A wave of something taking hold and denying my body the ability of control.

  “Oh God, I feel sick…”

  I stood up and my legs began to tremble. I tried to make my way to the kitchen and I felt as though I was walking on sponge. I stamped my feet harder on the carpet to try and make the feeling disappear but it didn’t work. I was getting hot and flustered and the palpitations were doing Zumba in my chest.

  “Whoa…I don’t like it, I don’t like it…” I clasped my hands to my ears because I felt I could hear the ocean. What? “I’m going to KILL him!” I made my way delicately through the lounge.

  Once in the kitchen I felt incredibly weird, like I might possibly faint, or even worse, die. Standing was proving difficult and I was unsure if I was about to do an Exorcist special and projectile vomit everywhere. If I was going to, it will be on Brendon I thought spitefully. I decided to lie on the floor in case death was imminent and as I placed my face on the cool tiles I felt a rush of dizziness, so I shut my eyes, ready to meet my maker.

  Several minutes later I was being shaken awake by Brendon. “Mum, MUM! Wake up! You can’t go to sleep. It will make you feel ill.” He pulled at my top to try and raise me to a sitting position.

  I looked up at him from the floor where I lay. “You’re the spawn of the devil,” I tried to focus on his face, “AND I’m not the devil.” I added. I could vaguely make out Karl standing in the background, laughing like a child. “YOU ARE the devil!” I said in his direction. “You’re both devils. Evil. I am but a pure and wonderful angel, sullied and beaten down by your wickedness.” For some reason I had become all biblical and actually believed this to be true.

  “Yes, Mum. You’re an angel,” Brendon sighed, “but an angel who needs some toast or something.”

  “Don’t you feed me another goddam thing you poisonous…poisoner! You just went and bit the hand that feeds you. I fed you love and you fed me pain. I stopped for a minute thinking how poignant that was. “Where’s my iPad? Have you taken it? Where is it? I need to make notes…”

  Karl was just laughing his head off like a little kid. “Oh that’s fucking hilarious.”

  “Why are you laughing?” I started to snicker too. At absolutely nothing and ye
t I was as tickled as a fat, drunk monk.

  Karl was crying with happiness. Tears were running out of his eyes. His nose was running and his mouth was dribbling.

  “Why is your face just continually leaking?” I asked with concern.

  This just made him chuckle all the more. He was doubled over on the kitchen counter, head in hands, shaking with rapturous joy. I had never witnessed such a sight.

  “Where’s my iPad?” I asked out loud to no one in particular, as I wandered through to my study in search of it.

  “Mum, I’m making you some toast!” Brendon shouted after me as I mooched aimlessly around.

  “Go back from whence you came.” I waved my arm at him as if to dismiss him from my space. “And say Hi to Beelzebub when you get there.” I couldn’t find my iPad anywhere.

  The smell of hot buttered toast wafted in my direction and I suddenly felt quite peckish. “God, I am actually quite hungry.”

  Karl was already eating some and asking Brendon if he’d got any chocolate.

  “I know Mum. It makes you starving. You’ll probably want to eat loads.”

  “Starving? No. Not starving. You can’t even comprehend starving.” I picked up my toast and delighted in its buttery flavour. It tasted so much nicer than usual. After one and a half slices I’d had enough. That’s when the epiphany hit me. “Wow! You know what?” I declared, putting down my half slice of toast, “nobody really needs two slices of toast, it’s just greedy. One and a half is more than enough. If we ALL saved that other half instead of needlessly shoving it down our throats regardless, we could feed the world.”

  “The world?” said Brendon.

  “Well yes, maybe – there’s a lot of bread knocking around in houses you know!” I continued to gabble on, verbalising the stream of amazing thoughts that were washing through my monkey brain.

  “I mean look at all the food we waste! We could take our leftovers and extra bits of stew and whatever and leave it in phone boxes!” I enthused.

  “What the fuck?” Karl spat out his toast at the thought and began to laugh all over again.

  “What the hell is wrong with you? I think you’re possessed.” I glared at him, starting to laugh myself. “Seriously, I’ve seen homeless people eating in phone boxes before. We should all take our food there. Buy extra and leave it inside the box. We could even bring back the iconic red phone boxes for this very purpose! Yes! Marvellous. They could be the soup kitchens of the future!

  “Mum that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “There’s no point in soup kitchens if you can’t read,” I stated.

  “What?” said Karl, wiping the stream of steady tears from his face.

  “If you can’t read then you can’t see that it says ‘Soup Kitchen’ can you. DUH. But everyone can see a red phone box. Even foreigners will understand that. People who have sought asylum here will even understand that. It’s perfect!” I exclaimed in delight.

  “What if they’re colour blind?” Brendon asked.

  “It’s still a bloody phone box!” I retorted.

  “But what if they’re totally blind?” Karl giggled.

  “Do you know what? This is just typical of your lack of creativity. You two with your cerebral brains, wanting to rain on my parade because you’re incapable of thinking outside the box. Go to hell!”

  “What box Mum? The phone box?”

  I wandered through the house marvelling at how I was going to change the world. “Oh my God, it’s brilliant! Where’s my iPad?” I looked around hoping it would make itself visible. My astounding lucidity just HAD to be written.

  Chapter 11

  “Mum, I think you should chill out and sit down.” Brendon followed me into my study as I went to look for my things.

  “You BLOODY started this!” I began sifting through all the papers on my desk, desperately trying to find my Apple tablet.” I need to get my thoughts into words…I’m having some amazing ideas.”

  “That’s normal Mum, it makes you think. Everybody knows that.”

  “Well, you might know that and the people over there might know that and the people that…don’t know WHERE they are might know that but…” I suddenly located my iPhone. That would have to suffice. Then I had another thought. “Where’s my iPad Brendon? Did you sell it to furnish yourself with recreational drugs?” I peered into his eyes looking for any signs of lies like a trained profiler.

  “Are you trying to ‘out mentalist’ me Mum?” He stared straight back at me. “You know that’s impossible because I am way smarter than you.”

  “PFFT, you like to think that but I actually run rings around you without you EVEN knowing. And if my iPad doesn’t turn up I’ll be selling your computer.”

  “Mum. Whatever. I thought you were weird before but you’re actually fucking mental.”

  I took my phone and wandered in the direction of the happy buddha, Karl, who was giggling away on the sofa watching re-runs of Blackadder. I sat in the corner section of the settee and got to work.

  MSG: TO COLIN FRAY: Hey Col, it’s me Soph. Guess what – I’ve had an amazing idea about feeding people.

  MSG: TO JOHN SMITH: Johnno, guess what, I think I could get Frank to sponsor an awesome idea I’ve had. Remind me on…that day I come to work.

  I sat there waiting for them to reply. It took forever but in reality it was actually only two minutes. “Whoa, the time’s on a go slow!” I said to Karl, “Everything seems to be taking ages but it’s not really…Bizarre…”

  “Sophie, the days are always long in this house.” He smiled over at me. He was now looking completely relaxed and like he’d never, ever left us.

  “Were you supposed to be going somewhere tonight?” I questioned, “you said not especially, when I asked earlier.” My phone beeped.” Hold on,” I said, raising my hand to Karl to stop him responding.

  COLIN FRAY: I know it’s you Soph, it tells me it’s you when you text ;) Feeding the people? What people?

  SOPHIE RHODES: You know, the people…of the world. Well round here to start with but it could be a peno…pheromone…

  “ARRR Fucking phone!” I said out loud to it as I texted.

  Phenomenon! Seriously Colin, it’s a new kinda soup kitchen idea!!!

  Beep beep.

  JOHN SMITH: You should be out enjoying yourself. We’re all at the Canal House if you’re interested.:P

  SOPHIE RHODES: I can’t – I’ve eaten cake. I’ll see you in another life.

  JOHN SMITH: What? LOL. Well, whatever it is, I can’t wait to work with you on it :D

  I put my phone down on the sofa and went off to find one of my many notebooks. I had a wonderful collection of them since I had a love of all things of paper and stationery. My adoration was so great that I couldn’t bring myself to use some of them because they were too beautiful to spoil. I still felt as though I was walking on spongey ground and had to be very deliberate of my actions. I teetered slowly past Brendon, stationed at his Starship Enterprise.

  “Mommy!” He leaned back in his chair and grabbed my arm.

  “Don’t touch me,” I said, batting his arm away.

  I found my books and decided life was too short to not use the damn things. Besides, now I had a drug lord in the house I may as well get writing in them before they got used at Rizla replacements. I picked out a stunning red leather one that had a long wrap around, leather cord to keep it closed. The paper pages were thick and lustrous; cream coloured and gilt edged. I lifted it to my nose and breathed in the rich scent of the new pages that were reminiscent of vanilla, talcum powder and beeswax polish. Ahhh…this one is perfect for such incredible ideas, I thought. I grabbed a pen and went back to the lounge of the Blackadder marathon. I sat back in my corner and opened my delightful book and ran my hand smoothly down the first page.

  “What are you doing?” Karl looked over as his sleepy eyes broke away from Baldrick for a second.

  “Changing the world,” I replied, heady with belief. He smiled
and returned to the TV.

  I began to write: Sophie’s soup kitchens. I underlined it as it was SO important.

  Half slices of toast, bagged and saved.

  Leftovers from too much cooking.

  Leftovers collected from restaurants.

  Leftovers collected from peoples dinner parties.

  Collections from Asda and Tesco before they shut shop.

  Excuse to talk to that hot Greek bloke at the chippy.

  Beautiful red phone boxes littering our land once more and filled with people eating.

  Maybe emergency blankets and cans of lager stored inside.

  My phone beeped.

  COLIN FRAY: Don’t we already have soup kitchens or something along those lines?

  SOPHIE RHODES: Well I’ve never seen one – have you?

  COLIN FRAY: Err, no, but I’m sure there’s something.

  SOPHIE RHODES: YES but not everywhere – I’m going to turn red phone boxes into a ‘dining for one’ experience!

  COLIN FRAY: O…K…sounds peculiarly interesting. Better than the current conversation I’m having over here anyway!

  SOPHIE RHODES: Are you in the canal with Johnno?

  COLIN FRAY: You mean the Canal House?! No, I’m with Trudie and a selection of her friends in Tantra.

  SOPHIE RHODES: A harem of women in Tantra bar! Tut tut, Colin. Maybe this one’s a keeper then?! ;)

  COLIN FRAY: It’s £5 for a coke in here! Robbing bastards! And no, I’d rather be ANYWHERE else than here…sigh.

  SOPHIE RHODES: A fiver for a coke! You can get a blow job for less than that in this city!

  COLIN FRAY: SOPH!!

  SOPHIE RHODES: I can’t believe you haven’t pulled rank and told the manager who you are! You can get free drinks like that you know…I do!

  COLIN FRAY: Please tell me you DON’T do that..:O

  SOPHIE RHODES: Only at McDonalds ;) Ok – I need to work on my phone boxes – go away and get busy with your bitches and I’ll see you someday soon.