Foreshadow

"Hey, where do I know you from?"

"I dunno. Uhm, you probably know my twin... Dina?"

That was it. I did know Dina - I'd met her briefly in Victoria before our journey had begun. The girl curled up in her jacket, shielded from the wealth of passers-by with her sign (entailing how BROKE and HUNGRY she was, obviously), was Squanch. How I recognized her, I'd never know - seeing her and her sister side-by-side six months in the future would prove that they didn't really look that similar.

Either way, this awkward introduction was enough to spur the beginning of a very interesting relationship. The ensuing conversation revealed that she, too, was interested in delving into the world of psychedelics. She left her hobo partner and joined our crew, adding her subtle, self-conscious voice to the music (noise?) of me and Fern's belligerence, the contemplative ring of Scrib's thought-provoking words, and the excitement of our new friend Hades.

There were five of us now, and we began making our way to the ferry terminal. We'd unanimously agreed to spend the duration of our acid trip on Toronto Island (a laughably named, man-made chunk of dirt that I'd never known to exist before.)

The ferry ride introduced us to another soon-to-be member of our psychedelic journey - Kevin. Kevin was a friend of Hades, and quickly proved himself to be more manly than any of us: he chomped back two of the ghost peppers I'd been smuggling around without so much as shedding (too many) tears. The mere smell of the bag was enough to make most people cry.

Kevin was a thick, put-forward fellow from Barrie, Ontario. His voice was laced with the residual sound of an adolescence cloaked in anger, but it seemed that he was now stepping away from the merciless, soul-crushing grip of gangsterhood. He wore a smile now, but it seemed to mask a childhood of difficult years.

His ability to rectify aggressive situations would come in extremely beneficial later in the evening - but we couldn't have guessed that. For now, our zealous chattering promised a colourful night filled with laughter and philosophy; there was nothing to foreshadow the psychotic and painful spiral that our acid-fueled night would offer. At the time, though, our hopes were high. We watched the eye of the island grow larger with every moment, unprepared for the heinous events that would forever tarnish my memories of Toronto Island.