Chapter 7 — Campfire
And thus begins Chapter Seven.
Now, children.
There we sat.
Axe.
Nuo.
Hat Guy.
Ribbon Girl.
The First Pack.
Joint moving between hands.
Conversation becoming progressively less structured.
Laughter arriving more easily.
And evening
doing what evening does.
Fading.
Softening.
Stepping aside.
Until eventually
night.
The council looks toward the shoreline.
Now.
Beaches at night?
Children.
Usually
meh.
At least in my experience.
You take a beach.
Remove most of the colour.
Reduce visibility to approximately:
Some water over there.
Then add people shouting near it.
The council nods.
Still beach.
Just darker.
But Malpe?
Different.
Not because people had suddenly developed indoor voices.
No.
People were still being noisy near the ocean.
Humanity remained humanity.
But the beach had
add ons.
The council leans forward.
Campfires.
Children.
Not one.
Many.
One there.
Another farther down.
Another glowing somewhere beyond that.
Tiny islands of orange light scattered across the darkness.
And around each one
people.
Groups.
Friends.
Couples.
Strangers.
Little packs huddled around warmth.
The council grows quiet.
From far away,
each fire looked like its own little world.
Dark beach.
Dark ocean.
Then
light.
People sitting around it.
Talking.
Laughing.
Passing things.
Existing together.
Children.
Cozy.
That is the word.
The beach felt cozy.
Which is a strange word for something that large.
But it did.
Different from normal life.
Different from university.
Different from pubs.
Different even from a normal beach afternoon.
There was space.
Darkness.
Fire.
Ocean somewhere beyond the light.
And the strange comfort of knowing every few metres another group of humans had built themselves a tiny temporary home.
The council nods.
I liked it.
A lot.
No great realization.
Just
nice.
Calm.
And there we were inside our own little version of it.
Two beach chairs.
A giant umbrella.
Four recently assembled pack members.
Smoke.
Conversation.
Then
Axe stood.
The council immediately watches Nuo.
And naturally
I stood too.
Why?
Children.
No idea.
Axe stands.
Nuo stands.
Relationship protocol.
Maybe she was leaving.
Maybe she needed something.
Maybe danger.
Maybe food.
I did not ask.
Then she crouched.
The council pauses.
And made
the noise.
You know the one.
The council looks confused.
Children.
The universal noise humans make when addressing babies or dogs.
That high,
soft,
ridiculous little sound that apparently transcends language.
Axe made it.
And from the darkness
dog.
The council erupts.
DOG.
Of course.
Children.
Immediately
First Pack forgotten.
Hat Guy?
Who?
Ribbon Girl?
History.
There was dog.
Axe crouched.
I crouched.
And protocol began.
Pat head.
Scratch ears.
“Who’s a good boy?”
The council nods solemnly.
Ancient law.
The dog accepted tribute.
Tail doing whatever happy tail does.
We scratched.
Praised.
Spoke nonsense.
Axe probably addressed the dog as though they had been separated at birth.
And after several minutes of complete abandonment of our new social companions
we returned.
The council watches.
Axe sat.
I sat.
The dog?
Stayed.
Children.
Party expanded.
He settled beside the chair.
Close enough to qualify.
The council writes:
FIRST PACK:
HAT GUY.
RIBBON GIRL.
AXE.
NUO.
DOG.
Excellent.
Axe looked at Hat Guy and Ribbon Girl.
Perhaps noticing that we had just abandoned them mid conversation without warning.
She apologized.
Something like:
“Sorry.
That’s just protocol when a dog approaches.”
The council nods.
A perfectly reasonable explanation.
Ribbon Girl laughed.
Looked at us.
And said:
“You two are cute.”
The council smiles.
Axe did not hesitate.
“We are.”
The council erupts.
Confidence.
Children.
No false modesty.
No:
Oh stop.
No:
We’re not.
Axe knew.
We were cute.
Case closed.
And me?
Was I participating in this conversation?
No.
I was talking to the dog.
The council collapses.
Priorities.
Perhaps asking him where he lived.
Perhaps telling him he was an excellent boy.
Perhaps showing absolutely no concern that he could not respond in any human language.
Children.
Dogs understand vibe.
The council accepts this reluctantly.
Time passed.
Night deepened.
Campfires kept burning.
The beach settled into that strange rhythm where nobody seems to know the actual hour anymore.
Eventually,
I thought:
Late.
The council nods.
And late means
sleep.
At least that was the assumption.
We had a cloud waiting upstairs.
A glorious bed.
A private Jacuzzi.
A resort room large enough to establish municipal government.
Children.
Excellent reason to retire.
But Hat Guy?
Had another plan.
The council becomes interested.
He looked at us.
“There’s a party nearby.”
The council leans forward.
A party?
“Yeah.
You guys wanna come?”
Children.
Now.
Important historical context.
At this point,
I had partied.
Hard.
University Nuo was no stranger to nightlife.
Bars.
Pubs.
Alcohol.
Music.
Crowds.
Bad decisions.
All familiar.
But the version of Nuo who would later become comfortable around raves?
Who would eventually wander into psychedelic parties and accept lasers as natural weather?
Not yet.
The council nods.
Rave Connoisseur Nuo remained several updates away.
University Nuo knew:
pub.
Bar.
Party.
Close enough.
So I looked at Axe.
Axe looked at me.
The council waits.
She nodded.
And I
“Hell yeah.
We’re in.”
The council cheers.
Sleep cancelled.
Cloud postponed.
Anniversary itinerary updated.
The First Pack was going out.
Children.
This is how easily plans die in the Wanderings.
Five minutes earlier:
bed.
Then stranger says party.
New objective.
Now.
Hat Guy reached into his pocket.
The council becomes very still.
An envelope.
Small.
He opened it.
Inside
pills.
The council narrows its eyes.
Children.
Several.
Small.
Unidentified.
Hat Guy took one.
Ribbon Girl took one.
Then he offered them toward us.
The council leans forward.
Normal people might ask questions.
What is it?
Where did it come from?
What exactly does it do?
How strong is it?
Is this safe?
Children.
All extremely reasonable questions.
Questions that deserve answers.
Axe and Nuo?
The council sighs.
Chomp.
The council collapses.
No laboratory analysis.
No ingredient list.
No solemn consultation.
Just
accepted.
Swallowed.
Done.
Children.
To this day,
I do not know what those pills were.
The Archive contains no label.
No confirmed substance.
Maybe ecstasy.
Maybe something else entirely.
Maybe one of those pills people casually describe with confidence while having absolutely no idea what chemistry is actually inside them.
I cannot tell you.
And I will not invent an answer just because the story would sound cleaner with one.
The council nods.
Archive law.
Unknown pill.
That is all.
Present Nuo can look backward and recognize the recklessness.
University Nuo?
Children.
University Nuo was already mentally selecting party music.
The council sighs.
Hat Guy pocketed the envelope.
Ribbon Girl looked perfectly calm.
Axe looked perfectly calm.
I looked
probably delighted.
And for a few minutes?
Nothing.
The council waits.
No fireworks.
No immediate shift in reality.
Just beach.
Campfires.
Dog.
Ocean.
The same conversation.
The same night.
Which naturally encouraged the most dangerous conclusion possible.
The council becomes concerned.
Maybe it does nothing.
Children.
Never trust the impatient brain.
Hat Guy stood.
Ribbon Girl stood.
Axe stood.
The dog looked at us.
The council grows quiet.
And there came the sad little moment.
Party Member Dog would not be joining.
Different questline.
We gave him another round of scratches.
Pat.
Ears.
Good boy.
Perhaps goodbye.
And left him beneath the umbrella,
or wandering wherever beach dogs go after completing their emotional support shift.
The council salutes.
Canine protocol complete.
Then
movement.
Toward the party.
The beach changing as we walked.
Some campfires behind us.
Others ahead.
Music becoming more noticeable.
Or perhaps I only remember it that way because I know where we were going.
Children.
Eleven year old memories sometimes edit transitions.
But I remember the feeling.
Expectation.
That little charge before a night changes shape.
The council nods.
Axe beside me.
Hat Guy and Ribbon Girl leading.
And whatever was inside that mysterious pill
waiting.
I had no idea how long it would take.
No idea what it would feel like.
No idea whether I would enjoy it.
No idea whether the evening we had already called perfect
was about to become better,
worse,
or completely incomprehensible.
Children.
This is the part where Present Nuo wishes he could reach backward through time and ask University Nuo at least one useful question.
University Nuo would probably ignore him.
The council laughs.
Fair.
Because all I knew then was:
Anniversary.
Malpe.
New friends.
Party.
Axe beside me.
And some unknown chemical currently entering the plot.
The council becomes uneasy.
The shit show?
Children.
Perhaps.
The first signs were finally arriving.
But not yet.
For now,
we walked.
And somewhere between the giant umbrella
and whatever music waited ahead,
the substance began quietly rewriting the evening.
Not enough that I noticed immediately.
Just
something.
The council leans forward.
A slight shift.
A softness.
Perhaps anticipation becoming too sharp.
Perhaps lights beginning to matter more.
Perhaps nothing at all yet.
The exact onset is gone.
I remember only that eventually
the night stopped behaving normally.
And children
this is where Malpe truly begins earning its reputation in the Archive.
Because up until now,
our anniversary getaway had been almost suspiciously wholesome.
Dogs.
Jacuzzi.
Buffet.
New friends.
Beach.
Campfires.
The council nods.
Then Hat Guy opened an envelope.
And four idiots made a decision.
The kind of decision whose consequences do not announce themselves immediately.
They simply wait.
The council grows quiet.
And somewhere ahead
music.
Lights.
A party we had not planned on attending.
Axe still beside me.
My hand perhaps finding hers as we walked.
Hat Guy and Ribbon Girl leading us deeper into the night.
Children.
I had entered Malpe expecting two romantic days with the woman I loved.
By now,
we had acquired a temporary pack,
a beach dog,
and an unidentified pill.
The council sighs.
Progress.
That is one word for it.
And yet
I was happy.
Very.
Not because I knew what was coming.
Because I didn’t.
Because the night had become open.
Anything could happen.
At that age,
children,
that feeling was intoxicating all by itself.
The plan had disappeared.
The road had taken over.
And somewhere inside me,
long before I knew to call it wandering,
the little creature from Kochi probably smiled.
The council notices.
Interesting thing ahead.
Go see.
Exactly.
Thus concludes Chapter Seven.
The Campfires.
The Canine Protocol.
The First Pack Plus Dog.
The Party Invitation.
The Envelope.
The Unknown Pill.
And The Moment Sleep Lost The Vote.
Children.
Normal people might have asked:
“What is this?”
Axe and Nuo chose a different investigative method.
Chomp.
The council closes its eyes.
And with that,
the anniversary stopped being merely romantic.
Something much stranger
had entered the night.
