Pedro the Brazilian

“Come we go and get a draw, this is lame”, says Jay.  “What’s Mack saying?”, “Fuck Mack, he’s a prick, I know this Brazilian brer called Pedro.  He always has loads of draw.”  So off we go to Pedro the Brazilian’s gaff.

Mack and Jay aren’t speaking to each other anymore.  Not sure why but I’m guessing Mack destroyed his dreams of having a business empire.  Mack was a strange dude but he could sort us out.  Now we have to go to random people’s houses that live miles away.

This is the shit part of getting fucked up.  You need to find a regular supplier, but people get nicked, move away or fall out with each other.  Now we have to walk to Pedro the Brazilian’s gaff.  Fuck this Brazilian geezer, I bet he isn’t even in.

It’s a mission, I’m not even sure what part of London I’m in.  Estates backing on to Wimbledon Common.  For a north Londoner I’m well out of my comfort zone.  Take me across to south London and I’m on full alert.

The road we are walking down is endless.  “It’s just up here, trust me.”  It won’t be just up here, but still, if Pedro has a draw it will be all worth it.

“I want to go travelling, my brother just got back from Thailand and he said it’s mental”.  “I’m up for that, I’ve always wanted to go to Asia.  Thailand would be mental”.  “Next year, when we’ve finished our exams we’ll do a year travelling.”  “Yeah, man, definitely.”  “You two need to get jobs, man.  What do you want to go travelling for?”, “Better than walking around Fulham looking for some Brazilian geezer.”

The estate we turn into is dark.  I swear no one lives in this place.  Jay says he can’t remember which house Pedro lives in but he’s sure it’s this block.  He’s scanning the windows.  Probably looking to see which one has its lights off.  He chooses one with its lights off.  Knocks on the door.  No one home.  “I knew he wouldn’t be in”, “If you knew he wouldn’t be in, why the fuck did you make us walk 4 miles?”, “I thought he would be in”, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Long walk back to Putney.  The road is dark.  There’s no cars and there’s no people.  No draw, and I’m bored of this.  Why do I spend most of my time walking around looking for people?  Fuck Pedro the Brazilian.  I hope next time he goes back to Sao Paolo he gets kidnapped.

Me and Paul head back to his house.  His brother sorts us out a small draw.  I sit on the floor of his bedroom staring at a map of the world.  It fascinates me.  I see all these countries that seem so distant.  I want to see them all.  This world we live in, this bubble.  It’s of no significance, we go out looking for draws, buy beer and vodka, sit and watch television.

My mind wanders off to when I was a child.  I used to play sick all the time.  If I was sick they would sit me in the nurse’s room and give me a jigsaw puzzle.  It was of the world.  I’d spend hours and hours trying to complete it but never managed it.  Would my dreams be so?  Would there be pieces missing?  I bet Pedro the Brazilian has seen the world.

This short story pretty much sums up our way of thinking as a teenagers and also how boring it was!  

Feature image attributed to:

Stevekeiretsu – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=41375692

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