Solace
–
by
Jeff
Noon
 Nesbit.
Now
you’ve
got
him.


He
got
us
all
hooked
on
the
stuff
for
a
while,

trying
out
different
combinations.
It
was
neat,
the
way
the
two
colors


 merged
to
form
the
new
flavor.
He
was
good
at
maths,
I
remember,
and

Remember
Spook?
 he’d
worked
out
with
six
starting
flavors
you
could
have
more
than
sixty

different
flavor
combos,
if
you
could
only
discover
the
correct
ways
of

‐
No.
 turning
the
bottle
top.
I
can’t
remember
the
exact
figure.


Sure
you
do,
came
out
when
you,
me
and
the
rest
of
the
world
were
just
a
 ‐
He
made
up
names
for
them?

bunch
of
kids.
It
was
a
bit
of
a
craze
for
a
few
years,
a
new
soft
drink

product.
Ninety‐nine
per
cent
sugar;
one
of
those
things
that
tastes
 That’s
right.
Orange
and
cola
he
called
orancola.
Strawberry
and

disgusting
first
off,
but
you
can’t
help
getting
hooked
if
you
persist
with
it.
 elderberry
he
called
elstrawb,
and
so
on.
He’d
found
out
all
the
ways
to

It
was
called
Spook,
I
guess,
because
it
was
like
clear
liquid
to
start
with,
 combine
two
of
the
flavors.
Then
he
started
on
mixing
three
of
them.
It

no
flavor,
with
this
neat
gimmick
in
the
cap.
You
could
twist
the
cap
six
 was
tricky
stuff,
getting
the
cap
to
twist
just
so
to
release
three
at
the

different
ways
to
get
six
different
flavors.
Nothing
special
looking
back,
 same
time.
He’d
spend
hours
with
the
bottles
–
playtime,
after
school,

just
some
cheap
chemicals
released
according
to
which
flavor
you
chose,
 whenever.
I
went
round
to
his
house
one
time,
he
was
sat
on
his
bed
with

but
the
sort
of
thing
that
kids
go
mad
for.
 dozens
of
bottles
all
around
him,
twisting
at
one
like
he
was
in
a
daze,
like

it
was
the
best
puzzle
ever.

‐
Oh
right.
Orange,
strawberry…apple…

The
first
trio
flavor
he
discovered
was
apple,
cola
and
lemon.
He
called
it

That’s
it.
Lemon,
cola
or
elderberry.
Anyway,
remember
Nesbit?
 appolamon.
Tasted
horrible,
but
he
was
so
excited,
the
taste
didn’t
bother

him.
It
wasn’t
the
taste
anyway,
that
drove
him,
it
was
just
finding
out
the

‐
Who?
 new
flavors.
He
had
this
thing
that
he
would
find
all
the
trios
and
then

move
on
to
four
different
flavors,
then
five
and
so
on.

Come
on,
that
scrawny
little
brainbox
with
the
rich
parents?
He
was
the

one
who
first
introduced
us
to
drinking
Spook,
because
it
wasn’t
 ‐
He
started
to
put
on
weight?

advertised
or
anything,
you
just
had
to
know
it
was
there
somehow.

Whenever
we
went
to
the
shop,
it
was
always,
“I’ll
have
a
Spook’.
That’s
 Yeah.
Real
skinny
to
start
with,
but
the
body
just
can’t
take
that
much

all
he
ever
asked
for,
especially
after
he’d
discovered
that
running
the
cap
 sugar.
He
was
visiting
the
dentist’s
nearly
every
week,
and
he
was
the

in
a
certain
clever
way,
you
could
get
to
mix
the
flavors.
I’m
not
sure
if
the
 first
one
of
us
to
have
spots
I
remember,
really
bad
ones.
He
used
to
be

manufacturers
even
knew
you
could
do
that,
and
we
had
to
pay
Nessie
to
 good
at
school,
but
now
his
grades
were
dropping
daily.
His
parents
were

do
the
combinations
for
us,
because
only
he
knew
the
secret.
 worried;
they
tried
to
ban
him
from
buying
any
more
Spook,
stopped
his

pocket
money.
Which
was
a
mistake
because
then
he
started
stealing
the

‐
Nessie?
 stuff,
drinking
it
in
secret.
It
was
strange,
because
the
new
combinations

he
was
coming
up
with,
they
must
have
been
vile.
You’d
think
he’d
be

happy
to
just
mess
with
the
bottles,
but
no,
he
had
to
drink
every
single
 ‐
Bottoms
up.
That’s
a
hell
of
a
story.

one,
even
the
ones
that
were
failed
experiments.


It’s
not
over
yet.
I
bumped
into
him
the
other
day.
Christ,
it
must
be

By
the
time
the
rest
of
us
were
growing
up,
you
know.
Moving
on
to
more
 fifteen
years
since
I
last
saw
him.

sophisticated
pleasures.
Like
beer,
for
instance.
And
girls
and
ciggies.
But

Nessie
was
still
in
there,
still
searching.

 ‐
Did
you?
Whereabouts?


He
gave
me
a
taste
of
his
first
ever
four‐flavor
combination.
Elorcolem,
he
 You
know
that
pub,
the
Cut
Above?
In
there,
last
Friday.
It
was
late

called
it.
Elderberry,
orange,
cola,
lemon.
I
tell
you,
one
sip
was
enough;
I
 afternoon,
the
place
was
quiet.
Just
me
and
this
other
guy,
a
great
fat

was
nearly
throwing
up!
He
drank
the
concoction
in
one,
no
trouble,
but
 bloke
wedged
behind
one
of
the
tables.
Looked
like
he
needed
two
chairs

from
the
look
on
his
face,
I
could
tell
he
was
hating
it.
He
couldn’t
stop
 to
sit
on.
I
avoided
him
of
course,
propped
up
the
bar.
He
called
my
name

himself.
 out.
I
looked
around,
he
was
waving
me
over
like
he
knew
me.
It
took
me

a
second
or
two
to
recognize
him.

I
called
him
a
spookaholic.
He
didn’t
laugh.


‐
Nessie?


Instead,
in
this
really
clear
voice,
he
told
me
that
he
was
searching
for

solace.
 I
went
over.
God,
he
looked
bad.
Fat,
like
I
said,
and
still
spotty
even
at
his

age.
When
he
smiled
at
me,
his
teeth
were
black,
what
was
left
of
them

‐
Solace?
 anyway.
Looked
like
he
was
on
his
last
legs.
I
asked
him
if
he
wanted
a

drink,
you
can
guess
what
he
said.

The
ultimate
combination.
All
six
flavors:
strawberry,
orange,
lemon,

apple,
cola,
elderberry;
all
mixed
together.
He
took
the
initial
letter
of
 ‐
I’ll
have
a
Spook?

each
fruit:
S,O,
L,
A,
C,
E.
That’s
how
he
came
up
with
the
name.
Solace.
He

said
it
might
take
him
years
to
find
the
right
way
to
twist
the
bottle
cap,
 You
got
it.
The
table
was
filled
with
empties,
must
have
been
a
dozen
of

but
he
was
determined
to
get
there,
even
if
he
died
doing
it.

 them.
I
didn’t
know
they
were
still
selling
the
stuff,
should
have
been

banned
years
ago,
I
reckon.
Anyway,
I
bought
him
another,
just
for
old

‐
He
said
that?
 times’
sake.
The
barman
didn’t
open
it,
like
he
was
following
orders.
I

placed
the
unopened
bottle
on
the
table
in
front
of
Nesbit,
who
just
stared

Even
if
it
kills
me.
That’s
what
he
said.
Exact
words.
 at
it
for
a
while.
I
was
trying
to
make
conversation,
asking
him
what
he’d

‐
Did
he
ever
find
this…what
was
it?
 been
up
to,
if
he
was
working,
married,
kids
of
his
own.
He
said
he
was

out
of
work,
divorced,
a
kid
he
never
saw.

Solace?
Well,
we
moved
apart
then,
because
it
was
time
to
go
on
to
high

school.
I
did
all
right,
got
a
good
place,
but
Nessie,
who
everyone
thought
 I
fear
for
that
kid,
I
really
do.

would
make
university
one
day,
he
ended
up
at
the
worst
school.
He’d
 ‐
What
do
you
mean?

given
up
on
begin
brilliant,
I
guess.
That’s
addiction
for
you.
Cheers!

He
told
me
the
story.
Remember
the
Introvert
scandal,
from
way
back?
 you,
I
was
frozen
in
space,
as
these
six
streams
of
color
–
red,
orange,

yellow,
green,
brown,
purple
–
all
started
to
appear
in
the
clear
liquid.
For

‐
Vaguely.
He
wasn’t
one
of
them,
was
he?
 a
few
seconds
a
rainbow
was
there
in
the
bottle,
a
small
tornado
of
color.

That’s
the
explanation.
He’d
only
found
out
when
he
was
twenty‐one;
his
 Then
they
finally
merged,
and
the
whole
bottle
turned
black.
Midnight

parents
finally
got
round
to
telling
him,
the
bastards.
That’s
why
they
 black!
Nesbit
gave
the
bottle
a
final
shake
and
then
removed
the
cap.
He

were
so
rich,
you
see.
Spook,
the
company
that
is,
they
paid
them
a
small
 poured
the
drink
into
an
empty
glass
and
placed
it
in
front
of
me.

fortune,
them
and
about
two
hundred
other
young
couples.
It
was
meant
 Solace,
he
said.

to
be
the
next
wave
of
advertising;
get
them
hooked
in
the
womb.
I
don’t

pretend
to
know
the
details,
something
to
do
with
feeding
the
DNA
with
 I
picked
it
up,
real
slow.
Looking
deep
into
it,
I
swear
I
could
see
sparkles

subliminal
messages.
They
targeted
poor
people,
of
course,
and
promised
 of
light,
like
stars
in
the
night
sky.


no
side
effects.
Of
course,
now
we
know
better,
but
those
two
hundred

kids
have
to
live
with
it
for
the
rest
of
their
lives.
 I
put
the
glass
to
my
lips,
and
took
a
sip.


Introverts;
interior
adverts,
I
think
it
stood
for.
The
original
idea
was
that
 ‐
And?

they
would
just
promote
the
product,
you
know,
‐
word
of
mouth
being
 What?

the
best
advert
of
them
all.
Remember
how
Nesbit
almost
got
us
hooked,

Then
it
went
wrong;
the
hook
was
too
deep,
too
sharp.
The
product
took
 ‐
What
did
it
taste
of,
man?

over.

Tasted
like
heaven,
I
tell
you.
Like
heaven
was
washing
over
my
tongue.


‐
They
were
paid
compensation,
weren’t
they?

Sure.
Very
generous.
That’s
why
Nesbit
didn’t
have
to
work.
Little
good
it

did
him,
the
poor
bastard,
because
you
can
guess
what
he
spent
the

money
on.
And
I’m
scared
for
his
kid,
because
if
it’s
genetic,
you
know,
it

might
be
passed
on.

‐
Jesus.
Want
another?

I’ll
stick
with
this,
thanks.
Anyway,
Nesbit
finishes
his
story,
then
he

finally
picks
up
the
bottle
of
Spook
I’ve
bought
him.
I
was
all
set
to
grab
it

out
of
his
hands
by
this
point,
because
I
didn’t
want
to
be
blamed
for

anything.
But
he
was
too
quick
for
me,
his
left
hand
was
gripping
the

bottle
tight,
the
right
twisting
the
cap
this
way
and
that,
lightning
fast.
It

was
like
watching
an
expert
at
play,
like
a
magician
or
something.
I
tell