Pieter went for a walk.
Pieter awoke everything was wet, everything, he’d been there since day one and he felt waterlogged. He had mud between his toes, in his hair, down his face, everywhere. Pieter stunk, but then so did everything.
The music had changed again it was now “They’re coming to take me away – ha ha”. Pieter had laughed the first time it played - Trevor clearly had a sense of humour. Now it was being repeated for about the twelfth time it wasn’t so funny.
The thugs from the Fortuity house of prayer had gone back to their hotel last night. Pieter thought about the clean sheets, the hot water, the bathrobes they’d be enjoying paid for by the donations of those staying in the tents. No doubt they’d be back later that morning in their leathers, on their Harleys, for more contributions
There had been a rumor going around yesterday that the army were coming, tanks had been spotted on the back of trucks. Pieter was a bit sceptical about this one, he’d been in the army and they didn’t even have any tanks. Maybe they were new?
Once most people had surfaced the rallying cry went up “what do we want?” There were different voices, some were saying – “No 1080”, others said – “No Medical Apartheid”, blokes with flags were yelling “Trump”. The guy next to Pieter grinned at him, “a bacon roll and a hot bath I reckon eh mate”.
There was a reporter making his way through the crowd, bright yellow raincoat, like everyone gets for school camp but a couple of sizes too small. A microphone was thrust in Pieter’s face – “Justin from NewsSpeak XL” he said. “If you had the prime minister alone for five minutes what would you do?”
Pieter hadn’t really thought about it – “talk to her about our concerns” he said unconvincingly. “Yes”, said Justin, “but how would you punish her for what she has done?” There was enthusiastic murmuring from those near by.
He explained he didn’t really have anything against Jacinda he just wanted... he couldn’t really think what he wanted, something about freedom. A couple of those who had murmured were booing him.
Why was he here he pondered. His partner who was a midwife didn’t want the jab and so she couldn’t do her job, she loved that job. She wouldn’t let Pieter’s kids get vaccinated either even though the eldest girl really wanted to have it.
Justin had moved on and was now interviewing an older guy who looked really angry, he was shaking, his fists were clenched, and there were bits of spittle hitting the microphone. Justin looked much happier
The crowd spotted a group of people going into the parliamentary building, a section of them started jeering, some yelled abuse, one man made a throat cutting gesture at them. They’re just admin workers thought Pieter, going to their jobs.
Someone plugged a sound system in to drown our Mallard’s music, they turned it on and the news was playing. “The last of the protestors blocking the Canada US border have now been cleared” it began, the crowd howled. Someone started chanting, “kill the media”.
There was a camera crew near by and people started throwing mud at them. Some people hadn’t been using the portaloos so they flung the excrement at them too. A group of middle aged women in yoga gear screamed at them to stop and the police began to move towards the barricades.
Just then the sun came out and Pieter felt warm for the first time in days. There was a brief lull in the noise and he could hear birds near by. He smiled and thought he might go for a walk, maybe get his booster shot, take a hot shower and have a good cup of coffee. He might come back after that, or maybe he thought take in a movie.
Pieter went for a walk.