1993

By Dominic Hoey

We were in a punk band called Freida, and we sucked. The name was the best thing about that band. But music was a good excuse to do something other than drinking, and getting beat up for being weirdos. I played bass, Noah was on drums and Hana was the singer and guitarist. Every other weekend, we’d figure out a way to get our shitty gear to an all ages gig in some community centre in the burbs. Other times it’d be a house party, playing in the kitchen while everything broke around us.  We’d do the 5 or 6 songs Hana had written about school and heartbreak, and a cover of I Wanna Be Sedated, which we always played way too fast. Afterwards we’d get pissed and try and find a ride home. 

But then fucking Noah left his kick drum at a party out in Henderson, and we didn’t even have the band anymore. We tried to get our parents to drive us out to get it, but Noah’s mum didn’t have a car, my folks were working all the time and Hana’s showed their support in more passive ways. The worst part was we'd been offered a real gig, at a proper venue, with bands that played outside of Auckland. So we needed money for a new kickdrum, and that's how we ended up stealing the dog. 

A month after the party, Noah came marching into the common room down the back of the school. He was wearing the long sleeve Sonic Youth t-shirt he’d stolen off me last year. I’d given up asking for it back, he had even less clothes than me. Plus he’d gotten green paint all down the front of it. The common room smelled of old cat piss. There was a single poster on the cream coloured wall, with a picture of a pig looking guilty. Underneath it read “Have you got herpes?"  We were the only people that ever hung out there. Even the metal kids who killed cats and huffed butane were too good for that place.  

Me and Hana were trying to listen to the new Nas album. Her brother Kai had sent it to her from America. Kai lived over there making art and waiting tables, which made him the coolest person we knew. But Hana’s tiny boombox had run out of batteries. She sat there biting on them while Noah relayed his news.

“I figured out how we can get some money!” the ginger maniac yelled walking over to us. Hana raised her eyebrows. 

“We’re not shoplifting again.” she mumbled, the batteries still between her teeth. 

“Nah not that.” Noah said looking defensive. The fucking genius had come up with 101 moronic plans for how we were going to afford a new bass drum. One involved shoplifting makeup from the chemist, and selling it at school. But we got snapped, and had to run down Queen Street with a security guard chasing us. 

“I was in form class,” he said “and Mia was saying she’d give 150 bucks to whoever stole that dog, the one up on the corner of Arnold and Rose.”

“Bullshit!” I snapped. My head hurt. We drank a 10-dollar bottle of vodka last night, and I wasn’t in the mood for Noah’s constant lying.

“It’s true!” he said, grinning a mouth full of crooked teeth.

“That dog's got rusty stains round its ass.” I said, making Hana crack up, spitting the batteries onto the faded orange carpet.

“We should go get it.” Noah started hopping back and forth with excitement. 

“How we going to catch that dog?” I asked.

“Easy! We’ll just go and grab it.” Hana put the batteries into the boom box and pressed play. 

“If I ruled the woman,” Lauren Hill's voice came out of the speakers, “Imagine that.” 

“I'd free all my sons, I l..o..v..e ‘e…m l..o..v..e ‘e…m b..a..b..y…”  the voice slowed down and stopped altogether.   

“Fuck!” Hana said whacking the stereo. 

“Come on!” said Noah “We need to get in there before someone else does.” 

“Let's talk to Mia first”, Hana said, pressing stop. 

Mia was sitting on the field with her boyfriend Luke and the rest of the cool kids. They were way down the back, where the trees ringed the edge of the school grounds. As soon as we stepped onto the grass, everyone was staring, their eyes, lit cigarettes hovering over us. 

They were all wearing their uniform, jean jackets and flannel shirts. There was a cloud of weed smoke hanging over their heads.

“Hey,” Noah said, giving a small wave, all his energy gone, now we were standing in front of the group.

“Kia ora,” Mia said smiling, a large pair of pointy sunglasses covering her face. She was so pretty, it kind of hurt to look at her. Noah’s face turned red as his mop of hair. Everyone was staring at us as a joint was passed between them. I kept waiting for Noah to say something. But he didn’t. 

“Fuck guys,” Hana sighed eventually, “Heard ya offering money to anyone who steals that dog.” 

“Yeah, you’s keen?” Mia said, her words almost as drawn out as the Nas song. 

“Could be,” Hana said, “Where would we bring it?” 

“My house,12 Selbourne street.” Luke and a couple of the other guys were smirking at us. I tried not to look at them. Even though it was a cloudy day, sweat was running down my back. 

“Before eight tho, when dad gets home,” Mia added. 

“Can we see the money?” Noah said quietly to the ground. 

“What?” Mia asked, still smiling, but it felt mocking. Luke gave us the evils, and I was worried we might end up getting a hiding. 

“I said can we see the money?” Noah repeated slightly louder still looking at the grass. Mia nodded and laughed. 

“Sure,” she said, rifling through a small brown leather handbag. She pulled out a handful of notes and shook them in the air.

“Cool,” Noah said and then turned and started walking away. Mia took the joint and inhaled and let the smoke slowly drift out of her mouth as I looked around awkwardly.

“Bye,” I said, giving a wave that was more like a twitch. 

“See you tonight with the dog,” Hana said. 

Noah had detention for calling the science teacher, Mr Davies a pedophile. Hana and I waited for him in the common room. She was working on a song about a girl she liked. They’d kissed at a party, but now she wouldn’t talk to Hana. I thought the girl was a dick anyway, she wanted to be in the army or the police or something authoritarian. And she ate meat. 

It was just after five when Noah finally got out. We walked home through Western Springs park. The lake was so thick with slime, it looked like you could stand on it. Noah was quiet. I knew he was embarrassed. He was always having mood swings. One time he threw a chair through the window in maths class and got suspended. The teacher said we should be kind to him, that he had trouble regulating his emotions. We tried, but god it was exhausting. 

Hana walked in front making plans. 

“We need a net,” she said, as we walked down the duck shit covered paths.  

“Where are we going to get a net big enough to hold a dog?” I asked

“It’s a small dog,” Hana said clapping her hands at a flock of ducks walking past, making them scatter. 

“We can just grab it,” Noah said quietly behind us, “pick it up and run.” 

“Yeah, that could work,” Hana said. 

Hana’s parents were relaxed about everything. They let us band practice in the lounge, drink in the backyard, smoke weed on the roof. They didn’t even seem to care when we took mushrooms on Hana’s birthday, and lay around screaming with laughter while her extended family looked on. We all pretty much lived there for different reasons. Noah cos he was an only child and got lonely. His dad was locked up, so was just him and his mum. She worked night shifts cleaning offices so he was home by himself a lot. My house was the opposite. I had 6 sisters and had to share a room with the two youngest, who would stay up all night listening to Love Songs To Midnight on the clock radio, or dancing to whatever latest cassingle they'd bought. 

Hana’s room stunk of mildew and paint. Photocopied zines on animal rights, and half finished artworks covered every surface. The walls were plastered in band posters; Jawbreaker, Bikini Kill and a bootleg Fugazi one Kai sent over. I used to be so jealous of that poster.

I sat on the floor next to Noah, Hana was on her bed, her red guitar in her lap, absentmindedly playing the chords to one of our songs. 

“We should leave if we want to get it before eight,” Noah said, picking at glob of green paint on the carpet. 

“What if someone sees us?” I asked looking at my two band mates, Noah was over 6 foot with ginger spikey hair, and a face that always said, ‘I’m doing something I shouldn’t’. Hana had seven piercings and bright pink hair. I know it all sounds tame nowadays, but back then we stood out, and it made us targets for all the bullies and psychos in our neighbourhood. 

“Disguises!” Hana said, jumping off the bed. She opened her wardrobe and dragged out a large metal chest. I knew that chest well. Every time we had a gig it would come out, and Hana would try and convince us to dress up in the moth-eaten clothes inside. 

“I’m not wearing any of that shit!” I protested. 

“We’re gonna look ridiculous,” Noah moaned. 

It was just getting dark when we left. Hana wore a bright yellow floral dress that dragged behind her as she walked. Me and Noah were in ill fitting suits. Hana said they made us blend in and there was never any point arguing with her. 

It was almost 7pm when we walked through Grey Lynn park, dusk, the houses up on the hill had their lights on, guiding us towards the street. A rugby team was practicing on the muddy field.

“My ears are sore,” Noah said one of his long fingers in his ear.

“It’s cos you keep putting sticks in them,” Hana snapped.

“Whatever,” Noah said spitting on the ground.

“We’ve all seen you do it,” I said. 

“Shut up,” he said.

Two men appeared out of the dark. They were older than us, one wore a puffer vest the other had a beanie pulled down over his head almost covering his eyes. 

“Look at these faggots,” Beanie-guy said. I kept looking straight ahead, praying Hana wouldn’t say anything. Puffer vest dropped his shoulder, shoving me hard. I lost my balance and fell onto the wet concrete. Thankfully Hana bit her tongue. 

“Fuck those guys,” Noah muttered helping me to my feet. 

The front door of the house was slightly ajar, the sound of Shortland Street drifted out onto the road. 

We stood on the footpath and stared at the empty front yard, a ripped up pink teddy bear the only sign of the dog.

“Where is it?” Noah whined “It’s always out here.” 

I tried whistling, but I was scared the people in the house would hear me. 

“What do we do?” Noah asked. 

“I guess we should forget about it,” I said, imagining all the boring weekends ahead, now we weren’t going to be a band anymore. 

“There he is,” Hana said. We followed where she was pointing. A white fluffy head was poking out the front door.

“Here boy,” Noah said. The dog didn’t move. “Come on,” he said without conviction. 

Headlights lit up the street. A mini-van drove past, the family inside staring out the windows at us. I tried to look natural, but it was hard, dressed like a failed accountant from the 70s. 

“Why the fuck did we wear these clothes,” I whined. 

Hana pulled herself up the wall and onto the lawn, the bottom of her dress covered in mud.

“What are you doing?” I said grabbing at her, but she danced away from me. Crouching, she made her way to the house. Every muscle in my body was tense watching her. I felt like I was going to piss myself. She passed under a window. Inside a bald dude in a Richmond Rovers jersey, was walking back and forth drinking a beer. 

At the front door Hana knelt down and put her hand out. The dog sniffed it. She slowly pushed the door open. 

“Fuck,” I whispered.

Hana gently picked the animal up, turned and ran back down the lawn. She leapt off the wall, hitting the footpath with a grunt. 

“Let’s go,” she hissed. 

We sat at the bus stop on Surrey Crescent catching our breath. At the takeaways across the road, a man my dad's age leant on the counter next to an arcade machine. He was wearing a gold jumpsuit, making conversation with the Chinese woman who’d worked there as long as I’d been eating chips. We all watched the man in awe, the gold shimmering beneath the fluorescent lights.  

“I want that fucking suit,” Hana said. 

“We should feed it, probably hasn’t had dinner,” I said, the dog on my lap.

“What do dogs eat?” asked Noah. He never had pets growing up. 

“My uncle's dog eats shit, actual shit,” Hana said, still watching the man in the gold suit. I looked down at the ball of fluff in my lap.

“Don't say that,” I said covering his ears, Hana cracked up. 

“And one time it puked human shit in the car,” she continued. 

“How do you know it was human shit?” asked Noah.

“You can just tell.” 

“Well we don't have any shit,” I said, “Why don't you get it some chips?” 

I dug a handful of change out of my pocket and thrust it at Hana. She screwed up her face poking her tongue out at me, then jumped up and jogged across the road. The woman behind the counter held out a bag of chips to the man in the gold suit. He took them and turned to leave just as Hana arrived. They both stared at each other. Was probably only a second, but felt like ages. The guy nodded at Hana, one weirdo acknowledging another, and then left.

I looked down at the dog. And I know it’s not possible now. Like with science and shit. But at the time I was sure he was smiling at me. Noah began drumming on his legs making the dog jump. It started shaking, its eyes bugging out of its tiny head. 

“Stop, he doesn't like it,” I said.

“What, now we gotta do what the dog wants?” Noah continued drumming.

I patted the dog.

“It’s alright, Noah just has emotional problems.” Hana ran back across the road with a small bag of chips. She stopped in the middle of the street, as a dented red honda civic to go past. 

“Fuck you bitch!” Someone screamed out the window. Hana gave them the fingers. She let out a long sigh when she reached us. 

“Losers,” she said, sitting down, “What’s wrong with you?” she asked Noah who was pouting with his arms crossed. 

“He’s jealous of the dog,” I said. 

“Fuck you guys.” Noah got up and stormed across the road. I took a chip out of the bag and broke it in half. I ate one half and gave the other to the dog.

“It’s 730. We should go give the dog to Mia,”  Hana said. 

“Yeah.” I watched the dog eat the chip. Hana looked at me. I thought she was going to say something, but then she stood up and looked across the road. Noah was pretending to play the arcade game in the takeaways even though we knew he had no coins. 

“Come on ginger nuts,” she yelled, “Let’s go get paid.” 

Mia’s house wasn’t rich, but it was better than any of our places. They had painted it nice, and there were cool statues in the front yard. A buddha, with green moss growing over his head sat by the gate. Lights were on in one of the front rooms. 

“Go knock on the window,” Hana said, giving Noah a push. He stood there, silent. 

“This was your idea,” she hissed. Noah picked up a stone and threw it at the window. It bounced off. The red curtains parted, and Mia’s pretty face was smiling out at us. I knew she was a bad person, but I still had a crush on her. I’m sure Noah did too. The curtains closed and then the door opened. But instead of Mia, Luke and one of his mates walked out. They weren’t smiling, in fact their faces were blank. Maybe some people would have trouble reading that expression, but I knew exactly what it meant. It was the look my dad had right before he lost his shit, it was the look Sione's big brother had when he gave me and Naoh a hiding for teasing his younger sibling, it was the look the prospects had when they tried to kick in the door of our practice room one night, while we hid inside. 

“Give us the dog” Luke said standing in the gate. His dopey looking friend behind him. Luke wasn’t that big, but he was a couple of years older than us. People said he got held back a year. His mate on the other hand was massive. His shoulders looked like they were going to rip through the faded black Ice Cube t-shirt he was wearing. 

“Where’s the money?” Hana said. I stepped back clutching the dog. I couldn’t see Noah anywhere. Fucking coward. 

“Just give us the dog eh,” Luke said, looking at me, “Don’t make me fuck you up.”

I could run, we weren’t too far from Hana’s place. Maybe I’d make it with the dog. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Just as I was about to take off, something flashed past my eyes. I looked up in time to see a piece of wood clock Luke in the head. He dropped like a sick of shit. His mate stood there, eyes wide fixed on Noah who was holding a fence post. 

“Run!” Noah screamed, throwing the piece of wood at him, and we bolted down Selbourne street. 

The dog ran up ahead of us as we walked back through Grey Lynn park. 

I can’t remember whose idea it was to take it back. Maybe no one needed to say it. The rugby team had gone home. Amongst the darkness of the empty park, the lights on the hill looked distant, ships out at sea. No one said nothing, but I knew we were all thinking the same thing, that we wouldn’t be getting the 150 dollars, that we’d miss out playing the show, that Luke and his mate were going to beat the shit out of us. 

Up on Arnold street there was a crowd of people with torches, walking up and down the road whistling and calling out out “Ratso!”. 

I stopped and started backing into the park, but Noah grabbed the dog from me and walked towards the group. 

“Ratso!” a small girl with no shoes on yelled running up to Noah. The group all stopped and looked over at us. 

“Found ya dog,” Noah said bending down and handing it to the girl.

“Ratso’s back!” the girl cried hugging the dog. The big bald guy I’d seen in the house, started walking towards Noah.

“Where did you find him?” he said. 

“He was in the park,” replied Noah. 

“Bullshit,” the big guy said, grabbing Noah by his suit jacket. Noah spat in the man's face, slipping out of his jacket. And then we were all running again. 

We emerged from the park, and stood on Williamson Ave pulling the cold night air into our lungs. 

“Those old bastards were fast,” Hana said, her hands on her knees. 

“Yeah,” Noah replied quietly. 

“You miss the dog?” I asked, giving him a shove.

“You think Luke’s ok?” Noah asked.

“Hopefully he’s brain damaged, and can’t remember how to fight,” I said. 

“Yeah.” 

“Let’s go back to mine, got half a bottle of red wine,” Hana said, straightening up. 

A red Honda civic sped past us.

“Fuck yous!” someone screamed out the window.