Young Volcanoes Chapter 8
**
Young Volcanoes
~ by Billy Wright ~**
Ready for Halloween 2021? Nothing like treat or trick to spice things up. Any and all thoughs are welcome:
billy.alexander.wright@gmail.com
------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 8
The Halloween Party (The Foxes Hunt the Hounds)
"Have you ever seen a fox hunt a hound?" You ask while taking off your shoes, letting your toes fall over the dark grass below. I follow your example. Then, I raise the bottom part of my jeans and lift them to my knees.
We both start walking towards the pool. It's a little chilly outside but it's bearable, so when we sit on the edge and dip our feet in the water, the electric, freezing coldness climbs through our legs. We both let out a sigh, holding our breaths. Your feet touch mine in a playful way. We both smile.
"Foxes don't hunt hounds," you insist.
"I know," I reply, but if you think that means I agree with you, oh darling, then you don't know me at all. "That's what makes it so special. Unique. A hound hunting a fox is something we see every day. But a fox hunting a hound? Now that is something worth watching."
I let myself fall to the grass, my feet still inside the pool. I hear when your body falls next to mine. Things are fuzzy due to all the scotch and margaritas we had but I still feel in control, okay. Better than okay, even. Here, with you, sharing a backyard, a pool, a universe of memories... I feel like I understand the world for the first time.
Of course, I'd never tell you any of that.
"So, for just one night, the foxes hunted the hounds," you let out in a dramatic, special way. Just how I like it. So, I continue the show:
"The world is like the Roman Empire of old. Caesar's in disguise, drinking wine, running a republic made of golden rules, senators, chariots, columns, marble, and stone," I move my hands, emphasising the image. "Back then, society felt like Rome, an authority we did not choose, making decisions on our behalf. And we, the teens, those parties, the raves, the drama... we were the poisoned youth. We were the demise of Rome and its only hope. And that night..."
**
***
**
"...and tonight, dear sisters," Buch raised his arms as we crossed the front doors into the party. "Tonight Rome's in ruins and we are the lions, free of the coliseums."
And so, the three of us walked right into the wolf's den. Dancefloor, stage, counter, drinks, wigs, make-up, and costumes. I had never been to a party like that. Yeah, I had attended a few at some friend's place but a proper party with proper drinks? Never. This was my first. I did feel like a lion freed of the coliseum.
"This place doesn't look half bad," I said, taking the nightly sight in before turning towards Captain. "Guess you were right on being that insistent."
But he didn't listen, his eyes were lost in some invisible space, his finger fidgeting on his palm. I thought about repeating but the music was loud so I didn't bother.
It was wild. We were wild. A cowboy, a sailor, and redhead Zeus were about to wreak havoc on the entire place. We moved towards the counter and found a nice place to set camp. Everyone was sort of dancing, moving their bodies to the rhythm of the music. I never got that, if we weren't near the dancefloor, why were we dancing?
"I'll go get the drinks," an instant later, Captain disappeared.
I wasn't sure of what to do so I looked at the couch next to me and tried to sit, slowly. It was difficult due to all the people around us. When I finally managed to make myself comfortable, I felt something hard underneath me. I tried to stand up but then a hand appeared on my shoulder.
"You are sitting on my phone, idiot!" A guy screamed at my face.
"I'm sorry, I..."
"Move, dickhead!" The guy pushed me aside and picked up his phone. Then, it was like I had never existed. He sent a text and kept on dancing at the table next to ours, laughing with his friends.
"Asshole," I whispered under my breath.
"Don't take it personally!" Buch had a half-smile on his lips. "Yelling is the default voice-tone here!"
"And `move, dickhead' is the default greeting, it seems," I murmured, annoyed.
I moved uncomfortably between all the people. I knew how to handle parties, I really did, I just had never been to one where the people were so much older and the place was this packed. Buch must've seen the discomfort in my eyes because he came near me and told me to start dancing.
"I have no idea how to dance to this," the music was electronic, just beeps and boops, one after the other, it made no sense and felt all over the place.
Buch didn't even flinch. "Close your eyes."
"What?" I took a step back.
"I said: close your eyes!" Buch walked towards me and I closed them. It felt weird to listen to all the noise, feel all the people but being unable to see them. Buch's lips leaned towards my ear. "Now feel the music, listen to it and nothing else. Feel it. Let it enter your body."
I stood still for a few seconds, feeling the notes as if they were droplets of rain falling from the sky. A pluc for every chord, a gluc for every riff. Some songs felt like drizzles, others like thunderstorms. It was all there. You just had to feel it.
Then my legs moved with the rain, with the water. My hips began to follow the storm and, before I noticed, my whole body was moving with the music. Buch started to applaud next to me, a wide grin on his face. He was proud.
"That was lesson one, sister!" He said to my ear. "Now get ready for lesson two," he then walked towards the asshole owner of that phone, looking at him for a bit with discretion, analyzing him.
"Lesson two?"
Buch nodded. "Lesson two: how to make gentlemen out of assholes," with a grin, Buch took someone's almost empty glass and moved towards the phone guy, then he started to dance next to him.
I thought that was it but then Buch moved closer and closer until they were practically back to back. That's when the phone guy took a step and crashed into Buch who, a little bit exaggeratedly, spilled the glass on the floor.
"Man, my drink!" Buch let out, suddenly sounding a lot more straight-like.
The phone guy turned around. "Sorry man, I..."
"Hey, are you dressed as Jon Snow?" Buch cut him, pointing at his costume.
"Yeah, I'm a big fan of Game..."
"Game of Thrones, yeah," Buch stole his answer, the widest smile ornamenting his face. "I love the show. Well, except for the ending. Man, that last season sucked ass."
Phone guy made the weirdest "I know, right?" face that I had ever seen.
"Buchannan," Buch offered his hand, leaning towards the guy, almost hugging him. That move would've been weird if we weren't in a crowded party with little to no space to move.
The phone guy whispered his name, I couldn't hear it but then he said, "sorry for spilling your drink, man. Come, I'll buy you another one. What were you drinking?" And just like that, they both started walking towards the counter.
How to make gentlemen out of assholes, I repeated in my mind, watching their backs, that was some first class Buch magic. I was alone but I didn't mind or even notice it. I kept dancing on my own. Luckily, shortly after that Captain reappeared. He was carrying three cups. He asked me with his eyes where Buch had gone and I just pointed to the counter.
"He is with someone?" I read his lips and nodded, Captain looked back at Buch, his eyes clearly sparkling with annoyance. I felt it a little too, this was supposed to be a night for the three of us. "Here, Johnny."
I accepted the cup he gave me and took a sip. It looked like coke but it tasted like...
"Rum!" Captain said to my ear. "Sorry I took so long to get here. We are not allowed to drink so they only serve soda if you're underage but I know a guy who poured a little in our cups. And... well, since fucking Buch left..." He poured the content of the drink in my cup and his. "Cheers."
"Cheers," I drank. It wasn't bad. That's the good thing about rum, it is oh so sweet.
**
***
**
"I mean, yeah, rum is sweet but it ain't scotch," you reply, moving away from the edge, from your legs little droplets of water fall to the grass.
"Scotch is no tequila either," I reply, turning around and looking at you. You are leaning against the fence at the edge of the property, looking beyond. "Wanna see some pictures?"
You turn around, curious. "Pictures?"
"I still have the photos from that night," I take out my phone while you lean over my shoulder, peeking down. You raise an eyebrow when noticing the cracks on the screen. "I know," I say, showing it to you. "My phone is a little bit old and beaten up, actually it's the same one I had back then only, well, the screen wasn't this cracked."
"You are going to cut your ear with the screen like that," you say in a neutral tone. I can't tell if you are being serious or not. "Why don't you buy a new one?"
"I did, about two years ago but... it broke, that's why I went back and started using this one again," I search through the gallery. "But don't worry, I'm not going to cut my ear, and you should be thankful, if I had my new phone I wouldn't have these photos to show you."
"That's Buch?" You ask, pointing at the Greco-Roman toga with red touches. "He does look like Zeus' Irish cousin," I then show you a picture of Captain in his cowboy boots, showing off his guns and lasso. "He should've dressed like a pirate."
I give you a really? look. "That would've been way too obvious. Besides, his family is from Texas, he is really into the cowboy stuff."
Finally, I show you the last picture.
"Oh my God! So this is the sailor suit you were wearing?" You laugh out loud, so hard in fact that you cover your face with your hands. "I did not picture it like that! You look so much like a little kid. It's perfect! You are only missing a lollipop."
I lower the phone, my eyes full of unironic disbelief. Then, with a smile, I push you, "shut up!". Then you push me back a little stronger. I put the phone in my pocket and, with both hands, I push you real hard. You step back laughing before setting your eyes on something over my shoulder. I follow them and see the pool.
"Oh, no, don't you dare! I will hate you forever, don't...!" But it's too late.
I feel the freezing, deep cut from a thousand needles when my back touches the water. I feel myself falling for an eternal second, looking at the starry sky and, an instant later, the water swallows me whole. I try to open my eyes but all I see is blue. I take a few strokes until my head comes out to the surface. I'm in the middle of the pool.
"You are so dead!" I scream and start swimming towards the edge when I see you jumping in. I didn't know hanging with you could still be cool. Were you always this cool? I take out my phone, soaking wet, and leave it on the edge. It is supposed to be water-resistant so I'm not worried. Then you emerge from the depths, too.
"How's the water?" You ask, combing your soaked hair with your hand.
"Oh, you think you are so funny, eh?" I splash the water at you, making you laugh even more. We play around in the water a little bit before we both swim towards the steps and take a seat there, our bodies still submerged.
It is a weird sight. You and me sitting there, fully clothed in the water. Facing each other.
"Okay, so tell me. What happened then at the party?"
I pass one hand through my hair, trying to move it away from my face but to no avail. "Well, what do you do at parties?" I reply. "Captain and I spent most of the night together. We drank, danced, and even played a prank on Buch. Then danced some more. I'm not super proud of myself because... well, I got pretty wasted. I had been moderating myself at Buch's house but I went all out at that party. Good thing mom never knew about me going or she would've grounded me."
"She would've," you tease me. "For your dancing skills alone"
"Hey! My dancing moves are awesome, shut up!"
You move around in the water. "So, is that it? The party just ended?"
Just by the look in my eyes you know that it's not the end. "There's one more thing that happened there. But before I tell you, remember, I was pretty drunk by that point. More than drunk, actually. Not sick-drunk but, more like stupid-drunk."
"Oh, is this where you fuck up?" Why do you sound so excited about that?
"Yes and no," I reply. "I did fuck up at that party but it had nothing to do with Armando. Not yet. In fact, Captain got so drunk he even tried to kiss Buch, several times."
"He tried to kiss him?" You don't sound surprised. "I have friends, both guys and girls, that every time they get drunk they try to kiss everything. So, I know those kinds of people."
"Well," I shrug it off. "After that happened, another stupid thing happen. The big event of the night, if you will: I entered the costume contest."
"There was a costume contest? Johnny, if you didn't like the sailor suit, if it didn't even fit you properly... then why the hell did you enter a costume contest?
I raise a finger. "Technically, Captain was the one who signed us up."
"Why?"
"That's precisely what I asked him."
**
***
**
"I don't know why I did it!" Captain raised his shoulders.
"What?" My vision and words were slurring, I wasn't in my right mind but I still had control over my body.
"I don't know why!" Captain was taking a sip of his coke. "Because it's funny, isn't that reason enough?" He replied but when he saw how serious my face was he looked over his shoulder and pointed at Buch. "Look at him. Can you tell me what he is doing?"
Buch was now sitting next to the phone guy, they were giggling like an old couple, really close to one another. The phone guy's hand was dancing over Buch's leg.
"Is Buch about to make out with him?"
"No!" Captain raised his hands. "He is doing what we should be doing: thinking about himself, not caring about the others and living this party to its fullest! That's why I signed us to the costume contest," I looked at him, unconvinced and about to protest when he said: "It's about to begin, shhhh."
That's when the music got lower and lower and a guy in an Elvis costume walked towards the stage and took hold of the mic, announcing that the costume contest was about to start.
"Oh God," I said, suddenly feeling nervous. I looked down at his costume and then looked down at mine. "Dude, we are not going to win this contest!"
"The point isn't to win," he replied, "The point is to have the best night of our lives. Just try to remember what Buch said." Captain got close to me, his face directly in front of mine. He was being as serious as he could with that much alcohol in his veins. "We are the lions, free of the coliseums."
"We are the lions," I repeated, drunk.
"They are hounds and we are just foxes. But tonight is special because tonight, oh, tonight the foxes hunt the hounds."
"Tonight, the foxes hunt the hounds!"
Captain smiled and I followed him toward the stage along with the other contestants. Walking made my head spin and I almost slipped but I managed to recover my balance before embarrassing myself.
On stage, Elvis started to lay the grounds of the contest: whoever receives the biggest amount of applause wins two bottles of tequila and a series of free shots. I don't know how but we were contesting to get it.
"And now, meet our contestants!" Elvis extended his arm towards us. There were about 20 people on stage, including us. There was Danny Zuko, a hot nurse, a Chewbacca, and even a blue avatar Na'vi. If I was unsure before, by then I was certain we weren't going to win.
"Please, everyone form a line," Elvis told us through the mic. "When I call your name, come to the stage and show us what you got, weirdo!"
I looked to the sides but I was already on stage. It was too late to disappear.
"Now, for our first contestant of the night, I present to you the very one and only Danny Zuko!" Elvis motioned Danny Zuko to the stage. "Show us what you got, Danny, we wouldn't mind seeing some Greased Lightning!"
Elvis was being funny and cracking jokes which made me even more nervous. We were on some sort of runway and the claps were the judges. I don't know when it happened but when I looked behind me Captain wasn't there, he was instead three people down the line from me. That meant I was going first.
"And here we have a classic Chewbacca!" Elvis said to the guy in front of me who then moved to the stage and struck a few battle poses. "My, my, a warrior and a beast! I'm sure the ladies wouldn't mind meeting you, and who knows, maybe even some guys too!"
That made people laugh and even Chewbacca laughed. But then, his turn was over and it suddenly was mine. I looked at Captain, then I tried to find Buch in the audience but to no avail. Elvis had his eyes on me.
"And oh what do we have next?" I started walking towards the spotlight. I could feel everyone's eyes on me. God, I froze. "Now, I'm confused, is he a dutiful sailor or is he just a good boy?"
I stuttered. The alcohol in my brain didn't let me think. I felt warm all of a sudden. Everyone was striking poses but I was just standing there. Elvis must've noticed because he left his place and moved closer to me.
"Tell me," he said, imitating Elvis' voice. "Are you a good boy?"
I opened my mouth but then I spotted Buch moving his arms in the audience. He was nodding his head and, at the same time, he was holding a guy who had dressed up as Santa Claus for Halloween. That was a very Tim Burton thing to do.
I had no idea what Buch was trying to tell me so I just leaned towards the microphone and said the first thing that came to my mind. Or, rather, the first thing that the alcohol brought to my mind.
"Yes, I'm a good boy," I said, looking at Elvis. Then I remembered Santa. "Last year I was on Santa's naughty list but I'm trying to change that this year."
"Woahhh" Elvis was more excited by that response than me. "We have a good boy then. Look out ladies, he may not have a motorcycle but he ain't going to break your heart, right?" Elvis moved the microphone towards me.
"I promise."
**
***
**
"You actually said that?" You ask, moving your hands in the water.
"I did, I swear."
"That's funny," you say, splashing. "I mean, I'm not mocking you, I'm just saying it's funny that you said you were a good boy when this whole story is about how you fucked up so bad, Armando decided to break up with you. So... there goes the good boy."
"Thanks for always reminding me of that."
**
***
**
My heart was beating like crazy. I didn't know how I managed to do that but I was as shocked as the audience if not more. They were clapping so I was happy. I was, truly, until Captain's turn came.
"Ladies and gentlemen, what do we have here?" Elvis asked. "Is that Django? The wild west is back at it. I don't know if he's the good or the bad but he is certainly not the ugly."
Captain started walking towards the stage and, as soon as he was under the spotlight he unleashed the guns he had and stroke that classic cowboy pose.
"Oh! And not only that, he brought his guns!" Elvis really knew how to rail up an audience.
But instead of striking another pose, Captain looked at him and, since he didn't have the microphone, he shouted: "those aren't the only guns I brought!"
Elvis and everyone looked at him. That's when I saw why Captain wanted to enter the contest. He took hold of his sleeves and ripped them off his arms, leaving them exposed for all to see, his dark skin shinning under the orange light. Then he started flexing.
Naturally, the room filled with applause.
**
***
**
"Naturally," you repeat.
"Naturally," I agree.
**
***
**
People drowned him in applause. After Captain returned to the line and everyone had their turn, I thought things were over.I thought that they were going to give the winner a trophy and that would be it but Elvis and the audience had other plans.
"Do we have a winner?" Elvis turned towards everyone. "Or do you need a secret bonus round?"
Everyone started cheering. Damn it. Another round? I started moving nervously in the line. Next to me, all the guys and girls were excited about it, some of them even cheered with the audience.
"But this is no ordinary round!" Elvis added. I was starting to hate that guy. "This is the special secret neon round! Pass the paint guys!"
I was confused by his words but then I saw a couple of staff members starting to pass what seemed to be little buckets of neon paint. Danny Zuko, the Na'vi girl, and the others got the message immediately and started putting the paint on. I was paralyzed.
When the little bucket got to me I almost dropped it. Was I really that drunk? I knew I was, else I would've said what I said before. I must've looked doubtful because Captain appeared next to me.
"Johnny put the paint on!" He said, painting his rope. "We don't have time."
"I... I..." I stuttered.
"You are drunk! Why are you so... paralized? Don't be such an ass." Captain gave me a look, got near me, and just as he had done to his costume, he ripped off my sleeves. I got scared for a second before realizing that the costume had been designed to do precisely that. Maybe that's why it was so stiff.
"Stay still," Captain said, dipping his fingers in the neon paint. I tried to move a little but he held me in place. "Stay still." When the paint touched my skin I almost took a step back. It was weirdly cold. "Hey," Captain looked at me. "Don't you wanna feel a little beautiful?"
That made me smile. I saw him draw an anchor on one of my arms and a compass on the other, both glowing neon. He then continued putting the paint on himself. I looked over and saw Elvis getting ready to continue so I made a bold decision and put more paint... somewhere.
"The preparation time is up, weirdos!" Elvis said through the microphone. "Are you ready? This is a lightning round so you have ten seconds on stage. Ready or not, here we go!"
Danny Zuko was first. His acting was on point but he had not put on any neon paint. He walked towards the stage and, using his ten seconds, he got out a neon comb and passed it through his hair, leaving a trace of neon highlights on his hair.
"You wanted some greased lightning? Well, there you go." It wasn't much but it looked pretty cool.
Chewbacca had drawn a David Bowie lightning on his left eye and ornamented his weapon. The Na'vi was the best - she had turned every black strip of paint into a neon one so she looked like a neon-blue rock tiger.
Then, it was Captain's turn again. He walked to the stage. He looked like he hadn't put on any painting but when his ten seconds started running he ripped off his shirt. I stared in awe, his dark skin in full view, for everyone to see, beautiful, perfect.
I thought he had destroyed his costume but, upon closer inspection, I saw it: the shirt had been designed to be ripped that way. I looked back at Captain, ogling his exposed torso, and saw him take out his rope. It was entirely neon yellow. He took it out and started to play lasso in the air. It looked amazing, he was moving it so fast that the rope looked like a UFO in front of us.
Captain then started to make a circle and played some cowboy tricks in front of everyone, like getting in and out of the rope circle while swirling it fast. It was dope. The applause was unbelievable.
You could tell that the girls and quite a few boys were giving him impressed glances. When he walked by me I patted him on the back.
"Now please welcome our very own good boy!" Elvis announced. It took me a second to realize he was talking about me.
I walked towards the stage and just went with it. I was drunk, it was my first party, I wasn't thinking right and I was in a stupid contest surrounded by people I didn't know. I could do whatever I wanted.
"Sorry, Elvis," I said, as loud as I could without the microphone. "But I decided not to be a good boy anymore." It sounded so weird, cringy and cheesy but I went with it. "See? I even got a tattoo." I showed my exposed missing noun where Captain had drawn the anchor.
"A tattoo?" Elvis played along. "Well, that's going to put you on the naughty list."
"That's what I want," I said. My heart was racing, my breathing was getting heavier. I was nervous, nervous about what I was about to do. "But just in case that doesn't cut it, I got another tattoo."
I followed Captain's example and ripped off my sailor shirt, only leaving the tie and the suspenders over my bare chest. I was standing there, in public, in the middle of a crowd, shirtless and in a sailor suit. But I wasn't done. I ripped off the lower part of the navy blue pants, too, leaving me with nothing but a little pair of shorts to cover me.
I took a deep breath. I could never do that sober. But I wasn't sober. I was excited and the crowd was applauding.
Raising my hands, I took hold of my suspenders and removed the clip Buch and Captain had put on, and let them loose. Immediately, the audience gasped and the applause started pouring in. I even saw some cameras shining in the dark, pointing at me.
The suspenders were long and baggy and without the clip they let the shorts go down several inches, showing the top half of my underwear. But that wasn't all. I had painted, as best as I could, a star right above my crotch area, and now, half of that star was visible too, below my underwear. I was almost naked on stage.
"Looks like our good boy is no more, oh no, no, ladies and gentlemen," Elvis was having the time of his life. "He is a little bad boy!"
I posed a little for the cameras, the flashes of the crowd were driving me wild. I started to get hard from the excitement and with so little clothing on, I was afraid someone would notice. I took one last pose for the cameras and went back.
That night, the foxes had hunted the hounds.
**
***
**
"So, you are quite a show-off," you say, swimming around a little. The water feels nice on our bodies but it is hard to move with all our clothes on. "I didn't know that about you. Like to have people see you naked?"
I almost swallow the pool water when you say that. "Anyone would've gotten excited in that situation."
"But not everyone would've done what you did."
"Touché," I concede. "But I was drunk and I was fifteen, almost sixteen. Tell me that you didn't do stupid shit at sixteen."
"We all do stupid shit at fifteen," you say, reaching the edge of the pool and turning around, ready to take another lap. "Doesn't it bother you to think that someone, or several people, girls and boys, have pictures of a fifteen-year-old you in nothing but practically your underwear?"
"I have the photo," I say. "Buch took several photos. I still have them."
"Really?" You look at me with disbelief. "I don't believe you."
"Is that a subtle way of asking me to show it to you?"
That makes you laugh. Now it's you who swallows water. But you don't answer, you keep swimming. "You would like to show it to me, wouldn't you, show off?"
I look at my phone. Actually... Yes, I would like to show you but admitting that is hard, especially when a fox hunts a hound. But, of course, that's something that I would never admit to you.
------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------
Naturally, the party isn't al that matters, that's what the after is for! How did your Halloween went? I hope as unexpectedly amazing as John's. If you want to chat, you know where to find me:
billy.alexander.wright@gmail.com
Oh, and don't forget to check my other stories:
* Us, For You
* Starboy
------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------
Let's take a moment to thank Nifty and the Nifty Archivist for all the things they have given us all these years. Please, consider donating to the site.