Wind-Up

Seven guys in one bedroom would set the alarm bells of in any manly being, however this was part of growing up.

Sharing the available beds as we all spent our first night in an adult free house. We had spent the whole day gearing up for this milestone.

The banter had been thick and fast.

"Hammy, did ye know there's a ghost in Vinny's granda's hoose?"

Hammy just stared on and refused to acknowledge the question. It wasn't out of disdain as well. It was out of fear. I could tell as a gormless look had overwhelmed his face.

Hammy was a bit of a livewire, A frail youth who looked like he had the testosterone levels of a tired nun after a day of hard mass. He was actually one of the oldest group yet seemed to be losing the puberty race. He was over mothered and it showed.

Yet he tempered this beta pain with a wild streak. One that was purely designed to get attention, which was strange as his mother feasted him with the stuff. This would manifest itself in destruction, mainly of doors, dogs and goldfish. I blame this on misguided youth yet I have never laughed so hard until I watched Hammy take the JuicyFruit he had been chewing all day and use it to stick his lonely goldfish to the side of it's bowl. Utterly random and cruel yet it entertained my puerile mind.

"Aye Hammy, it only comes out at night as well. It's freaky as fuck"

Once again this comment was met with the raising of a wispy eyebrow.

The day passed and we all headed over to Vinny's grandad's house. It was a Saturday night and in those days, that meant good TV.

And that's when the ghost chat started to gather momentum.

"Hammy mate, you better no shit a brick when this ghost starts jumping aboot"

The gormless look had now evolved into a chimpish giggle. One that seeked reassurance while at the same time tried to convey sheer apathy. The tactics had been confirmed. A bombardment of random comments about the imaginary poltergeist that roamed grandad's house. Normal conversation which would be punctuated by childish psy-ops. We had become North Korea for the night.

It was time to bed down. There were two of us on a creaky, old couch bed.  Three were cooped up on a double bed and the oldest had the obligatory camp bed all to himself.

Within minutes the wailing had begun. Creepy screams pouring out of our mouths, trying to mask uncontrollable giggles.

"Whit the fuck was that?"

"Did anybody hear that? I'm sure I heard a noise"

Everyone was getting stuck in with aplomb however Hammy's side of the bed seemed static. It was time to up the tempo.

"I don't like this" I yelped.

My voice started to quiver and the bottom lip started to tremble. The wailing started to gather pace and I started to cry like I had bagged an Oscar. It became more intense with every passing moment. Excruciating to the point where I was beginning to annoy and potentially embarass myself.

This added a certain intensity to the proceedings. I could tell as Hammy was nowhere to be seen. He was stuck rigid using his duvet as a protective shield.

Stevie, the alpha camp bed boy decided that this overdramatic sobbing wasnt enough and decided to throw in some exorcism.

"Check Stevie, he's fucking turning green!"

At this point I was faking the tears yet trying to stop some renegade piss escaping from my dick. It's hard controlling your bladder under such circumstances and I didn't want the joke turning on me. The room was filled with wailing, yellow tears and the expulsion of imaginary ghosts.

Vinny and David where at the top of the triple teamed double bed.

"Hammy, get up to the top of the bed mate!"

Young Hammy wasn't getting out of that bed for anybody. He pulled an SAS style manouver under the covers and commando crawled his way up, resting his head on David's knee. We knew we had him at this point.

The laughter became frantic at that point. There was no point continuing. Hammy was ours.

"Hammy mate, are you okay under there?"

We pulled the covers away. Hammy was weeping while clutching onto David. Saliva had somehow created a rope bridge from his mouth onto David's knee. It wasn't the most glamorous of looks.

"It was a wind-up mate"