Tales Of Rebellion

To Dance By Darkest Night

St. Paul Cathedral's curiously feminine contours loom above our thriving tent city. A colourful line of tents guards the future, a grim line of city employees marches on towards oblivion. Much to my chagrin I enter a certain well-known coffee emporium which activists get a lot of stick for patronising. I'm taking full advantage of the free wi-fi, writing some rough drafts when a varicoloured man with a grizzled gray patch of stubble enters with a woman. I know the man but not the woman, he is Rainbow Mark and we hid out in a forest for several months together. They embrace and he turns to leave, so I call to him and at this moment Teo makes his appearance, he was also a member of the Heathfield forest crew. Exchanging pleasantries I am introduced to Rhiannon who, like me, is headed to a Rainbow Gathering in the Canary Islands in a few days time. “Ah, so we were meant to meet” she will later say.

In the evening she invites me to come to Small World, a fun party for tofu-munchers and incense burners. Unfortunately, the filthy old hepcats that run the event like money a lot and charge fifteen pounds on the door. Considering I have all of £76.66 to get to the Canaries this is a sizable outlay, but in the end I convince myself that with the community service over I'm entitled to a little celebration.

Rhiannon has recently fallen in love with the wanderer's lifestyle and been introduced to a lot of New Thought about energies, love and the interconnectednessness of all things. On the train to Peckham Rye she tells me about the arguments she's been having with her father who's very scientific.
 
“Challenge scepticism with more scepticism, challenge the very foundations of his mundane worldview, this world being too full and fantastical to lend itself to simple explanations.” I say.

She is originally from Chicago but has been here since the age of eight, still she retains the accent occasionally veering off into that imitation English that Americans are so fond of. I also gather that she has been seeing Mark all week and they're rather keen on each other.

The evening is off to a good start as I find an unopened can of wifebeater on the road. Outside the party we can hear the bearded old security guard frogmarching up and down the corridor.
“Keep to the left!” He screams “Keep left you maggots, or else you'll feel the heel of my boot, you slags!”

We have plans to blag our way in with claims of being professional face painters, there to enhance the ambience with our stylish creations. But by the gate I catch a glimpse of the re-entry stamp on someones wrist and have a brainwave. I grab Rhiannon and take her round the corner, within minutes she has replicated the green flower-like patterns of the stamps with her face painting kit. I march confidently up to the guard, casually presenting my stamped wrist and moving swiftly onward. I'm in. I'm through. But no, the security guard accosts me and demands to see the stamp again. Pretty soon he's telling my I can do one of two things. I forget what they were but soon I'm outside being told I'd better go home.

She wisely hung back and has the money to pay. Being a gentleman, I tell Rhiannon that she should go and have fun but she vows to find someone who can get me inside.

Half an hour later a girl with a crystal stuck to her forehead comes out and whispers 'come this way'. This is Alexis and she wants me to climb a very high wall. She’s engaged to a member of the Scallywags, a band playing that night.

“Climb the wall and go to carpark, it should be obvious from there.” She says.

I'm left alone in a small alley with a Tower block on one side and a wooden security fence on the other. There are metal handrailings at waist level. I pull myself up and then climb atop the fence. I'm gripping the wall scouting my next move, when I see a flashlight in the darkness below, it enters and comes out the other side, just below me. Thinking quickly, I drop from the fence onto the rail, making a huge clamour. The guard shouts and I squat on the bar, perfectly silent. I can see the light shining over the top of the fence. Minutes pass. I wonder if he can hear me breathing. Then as a train passes a street away I drop to the pavement and scramble.