Chapter Thirteen- Beach Party Bongo
Partying is no unknown thing in Vuvuru, we do it every night, usually until twelve at night, but that’s when I have to leave, so it could go on longer. My brother was back, but I thankfully chose not to being him on late night excursions, as I felt him to be too young.
My aunt got the job, and was now a teacher of English at the very high school my mom attended. She used to work in Austin, but didn’t like it because of her boss, a failed lawyer that had his rich parents buy his way into the position.
My mom was deep in plans to have me personally stalked around the summer community, so I headed out with Yaniis to get stuff for the night. Pedro was going to meet us at Maria’s with Ireni, and we would catch up with everyone else later that night.
Super Markets are quite common in Greece, there are no such things as regular old Markets, they’re all Super, much like Mario. There, you can buy everything from fake Yu-Gi-Oh cards to cheap four dollar wine. It’s a beautiful thing when teens can just come into a place and buy booze.
We stocked up on beer, but Yaniis said it would be cool to get some vodka and Coke, so we did. We also bought a cheap small bottle of wine for later. With all that, we slung it onto my bike and headed out. We stuck the drinks at Yaniis’ house, so we wouldn’t get caught with all the drinks in hand, and went over to the church.
At the time, Filermenie was still smoking, and Agne had started the habit as well. Sgne is this really good-looking girl with olive skin, and pitch black hair that flows to her back. Really attractive, but also, a bit indulgent. We decided to go to all the bars and drink as much as we could in one night, as a blowout, because at the time I only had a week left in the country.
At the church, we played some cards for lack of anything else to do. The shop the little ones had was doing very well, but was getting competition from another one my cousin and Costa had set up, which sold Yu-Gi-Oh cards mostly. It did very badly, as most of the cards they had sucked.
Filermenie had a butt in her mouth while she played, though she quickly threw them away if anyone approached. At least she had a small concept of how bad it was for her, or how bad it would be if her mom found out.
We sat there for most of the afternoon, just chilling until the big blowout. I was going to be the designated sober guy at the bars, so I wouldn’t have as much as they did, to make sure they didn’t lose themselves. I didn’t mind, I never did drink as much as they did anyway, I had a sense of self-control.
We headed out at about eight from the church, the old gang. There was me, Yaniis, Fiermenie, Pedro, Ireni, but also Zoi and Agne, two sisters that looked like twins, but Zoi was younger. Carina, a tall girl with attitude, was coming with us, as was Cat, who had left for a while owing to her family.
Tonight would be nothing but fun.
We stopped off at another bar near the Super Market to start off, which had a larger selection of drinks in its confines. After everyone had flaming drinks, we started on the heavier stuff. I just stuck with beer, because it had the least alcohol of all the drinks there. Everyone else got hammered for American standards, but Greeks are made of tougher stuff when it comes to drinking.
We staggered out of there close to nine-thirty, but were eager for more. It was then we split into two groups. I led the first group down to Fava, the beach we hanged out at nights, while Yaniis took Pedro and Ireni to his house to get the booze we had stashed there. I had already told my parents we would be coming back late, so it wasn’t going to be a problem.
As my group wandered to the beach, we ran into a trio of wandering French teens. They turned out to be half-Greeks like me, so we invited them to join us on the beach. It was officially going to rock. Booze, drunken teens, and a dozen people of Greek blood to split it!
We started out by building a fire, a good one this time. Yaniis knows how to make fire, so he sent us to go get some while he fixed all the utensils needed for a proper fire. I led a team into the forest area by the beach, returning with gigantic sticks, along with smaller twigs and bramble to get it kindling. Soon, thanks to some alcohol, we had a great fire going to keep warm.
We drank through half of the beer in about an hour, but no one could get the cheap wine open, it was securely sealed with a bottle cap. I knew what cheap wine could do to you, so I offered to open it. Fortunately, they agreed, and I cracked the bottle, pouring all the contents into the sand. They were mad at me for a while but soon forgot about it.
The fire kept going, so we decided to play Truth or Dare, Greek style. I thought it might be fun, as no one ever picks me. Yaniis asked the first, Ireni, who replied with Dare.
“Go and kiss Pedro’s neck while lying on top of him,” Yaniis commanded, and she obeyed. She forced him into the sand, crawled on top of him, and kissed him on the neck very erotically. Everyone whistled, as Ireni regained her composure.
It was now her turn, so she called on one of the French-Greeks in our group. He picked Dare also, so Ireni had a great idea, as she was playing in a game where you couldn’t say no.
“Flash us,” she said giggling. I turned away while the girls were treated to a peep show of France’s finest. I returned to the group, and they asked me.
“Truth or Dare?” the French-Greek asked, laughing with the others at the hilarity of the game.
“I’ll break tradition, and go with Truth,” I answered laughing, everyone was having fun.
“Have you ever sucked one?” he asked, breaking into laughter.
“What do you mean?” I asked, as I was confused at to the question’s nature.
Insert your classic anime falling scene here, as everyone started falling over with laughter. I laughed too, I was having way too much fun.
“What he means, Andreas, is have you ever had a man in your mouth?” he roared in English.
“No!” I shouted, everyone laughed again in drunken stupor. I joined in too after a while. I couldn’t say too mad at the drunken fools.
“My turn,” I said, looking around. “Agne, Truth or Dare?”
“Dare,” she answered, her eyes were growing red from the booze.
“Kiss Carina romantically,” I commanded, I was determined to get back at her for suggesting that question to the French-Greek.
“All right then,” she said, throwing Carina back onto the sand. She then kissed the other girl for half a minute, but half a minute in heaven. I and the other men enjoyed it immensely. After that the girls lost their taste for the game, so he changed it to Kerios kai Kirias. Basically, that translates into Mr. And Mrs. The game is similar to Truth or Dare, but with a few key changes. First two people would be chosen out of the group. One of those two would then blindfold the other, and select a boy and a girl. The one blindfolded would then decide what those two would do. And that did mean anything, excluding only a few things, those being utter loss of morals and sex. We did know how to draw the line, we just had it at a far enough distance that it wouldn’t bother us.
I went first, selecting Yaniis and Filermenie for Pedro to chose an act. He chose a similar approach to mine, selecting them to swim together. Now in the States that would bother most people, but not Yaniis, who immediately stripped down to his tighty whities, giving all of us a rather unnecessary view of Yaniis. Filermenie went down to bra and panties, and they dived together into the water.
After a swim of satisfying length, they were allowed to return to shore, and dry off. The game lasted well longer, and we went through more and more drinks, finally having to send someone to go and get more, having gone through the entire stash. After about ten minutes where we had to survive without any alcohol, Pedro came back with more, and we resumed our merry blow out.
It was dawning on around eleven when we all dived in for some serious swimming. Of course, the ratio of girls and guys was not as good as it had been beforehand, but beggars can’t be choosers. I fell into the water with everyone, despite the cold I encountered. I swam with the best, I was faster then everyone owing to the fact that wile others used canoes to travel about by sea, I went with my flippers.
After getting soaked and drenched, we all went back to the shore to get warmer. The fire was dying out, so Yaniis and I went to get more fuel for the flames. The night passed on as a drunken memory for most, but I drank responsibly and remembered what happened next.
Agne had had too much to drink, she had had more flaming drinks at the bar, more vodka and beer on the beach, and had simply been hammered even before we started the night. She threw up, hurling onto the fire of all places.
The flames burnt the vomit and spread it throughout the gathering, forcing everyone to flee for their lives. We backed far, far away from the stench. It came for us like a poison cloud, causing everyone to retreat to a safe distance away from the bomb-like cloud of gas that hovered over the flickering fire.
When it was breathable enough to approach the evil cloud, we delicately began to approach our sitting area, after being sure to cover our noses in the event of an emergency.
“Sorry everyone,” Agne muttered, gesturing to the powerful stench that had recently defeated us.
“Can’t be helped,” Yaniis said. About that time, the French-Greeks chose to turn in for the night, and Carina left as well, saying that she had some sleep to catch up on. It was just me, Pedro, Ireni, Yaniis, and Agne among the dying embers of the flames and several cans of drinks.
Agne was getting cold, very cold. It was closing up on midnight, so I guess that was a good time to be cold. Everyone huddled around her to keep her warm, but staying away from her mouth for reasons that are plainly obvious.
I was getting to the time where I should take my leave, so I stood up to bid everyone a good evening. It was then I showed just a small glimpse of my sealed heart.
“Here, use this to keep her warm,” I said, discarding my t-shirt and throwing it to them. “I expect that shirt returned to me in the same condition I got it in.”
Yes, I have a heart though I may pretend otherwise. I headed out then, I wasn’t in the mood to hang around shirtless. I biked home, the wind on my bare chest, and I hoped that Agne wouldn’t hurl all over it.
I got home about on time, but I was really quiet so my mom wouldn’t notice how I wasn’t wearing a shirt. Unfortunately, my aunt caught me, so I had to explain to Sara that it was wet and I had put I in my pockets. No one needed to know I have a heart.
“What are you doing without a shirt on?” she questioned, fast so I wouldn’t have time to make up a lie. Good thing I already had it prepared.
“We went swimming, and it got wet,” I answered. “It’s in my pocket. What are you doing out here?”
“What’s it look like?” she asked, holding up the cigarette that I had smelt but overlooked.
“I’m going to bed,” I sighed, people just weren’t going to learn.
I seriously think some smokers can’t read, because it says, on the freaking box, THIS CAN KILL YOU. Are some smokers just blind when they try it for the first time? I’ll never know, but I hate the habit so bad it starts to hurt sometimes when I see a room of people doing it. Love the smoker, but loathe the habit.
I staggered in the house, before people could notice my slight drunkenness. I wasn’t drunk, but I was feeling woozy from all the alcohol. I slunk up to my bed to sleep it off. The night was really fun, we had some great times in those short hours. None of which I ever mentioned to my mother. I hope she isn’t reading this.
The next day, we had some slight problems, one being that Aunt Sara’s old boss called about her getting a new job while under his contract. I headed down to see what was going on.
“….yes, but….well, I think it’s a great achievement.…no, I think that….well, I’m glad you feel that way!” I heard her slam the telephone into the socket, and she put her head on her knees.
“What’s up?” I asked, I had no idea what was going on.
“Nothing,” she lied. “My boss just called me.”
“You’re still getting the job right?” I asked, she had been dreaming of the job for the whole summer.
“I’m getting the job,” she croaked, she was even crying a little. “That was my old boss at the Jewish school I worked at.”
“So, what’s the problem?” I asked, legal terms meant nothing to me.
“He just yelled at me, called me stuff,” she muttered, looking at her feet. “The *** even dared to threaten me. He was talking about all these legal things that would have to be filled out, and how I’ll go back to him for my job.”
“So, why’s it bugging you?” I asked, confused. This was not the Aunt Sara I knew, the one that kept us in line with an iron clad fist when Mom could not. “The guy just lost one of his best teachers, of course he’s going to say junk like that. He needs you back, so that’s why he threatened you. But he can’t really do anything, can he?”
“Probably not,” she mumbled. “Contracts mean nothing in Texas, I just had to give him enough notice, and I did.”
“So why’s it bugging you? The guy’s desperate, he bought his way in.”
“Yeah, you should see the stage that the school has. It’s on Broadway level, bought and paid for by his parents.”
“So why are you feeling so bad? You’re free from his grip! Celebrate!” I shouted.
She looked at me with such gratitude. “Thanks, I needed that.”
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Gin.
No, not the drink that is similar to kumquat liquor, which I tried and almost died from, not really, in Corfu. The card game that was named gin by Americans. To Europeans it is known as Kum Quam, which sort of sounds like kumquat, but enough about kumquat. It’s time to play Gin.
For those unaware, Gin is a more elegant game than Poker or BS. In it, you are dealt nine cards, with which you must match together, like having two fours or a seven, eight, and then nine. It has brilliant strategy, and requires constant thought.
For some reason, my cousins seemed to be very good at the game, despite still being halfway dependant on training wheels. I found it inspirational, but not a lot, as they even gave me a run for my money.
The hierarchy of our house in terms of Gin ran a bit like this: Mom, me, John, Eleni, Valerios, Uncle Spiero, then Aunt Sara. Mom was king, or queen in this case, of the family at the game. That night we had an annual thing where we all stayed in and played cards together.
I was winning, but I saw how depressed Aunt Sara still was, even after one of my emotional speeches. I was appalled, so I decided to cheer her up at a cost to my self-esteem. Mom had told me about auditions that were being held when we returned to the States as part of a scheme to get me to behave, and I hadn’t had any practice.
“Want to play aunt Sara?” I asked, shuffling the cards.
“Sure,” she said, putting one of those cheesy romance books away. At the moment, I was surviving on Sherlock Holmes for entertainment, as my mom had bought me a thousand page book of cases, but it barely lasted a few days. I still read the cases, as they are fascinating, but Aunt Sara and Mom were making do with the stupid romance books that were lying around the house.
I dealt out nine cards for both of us, making sure to put the final card in the center to be picked up at the start of the game. I started, though I could already win. I wanted to make her feel better, so I faked a loss.
“All right, I’ll throw this back,” I muttered, not looking at my hand, and accidentally threw away a joker.
“WHAT?” Sara asked, incredulous as to my error.
“No!” I cried, slamming my head on the table. “There is no way I’m making that mistake again!”
But I did, because even though I love winning, it was important to allow Sara the win. It would really help her.
So I lost. I threw the games, all ten of them, sometimes I was sure they had figured me out, but they didn’t, and it made Aunt Sara happy. Then they went overboard.
“Boo-yah!” she shouted, dancing with Eleni on my shattered pride. “Take that Andrew!”
“Yeah, you suck!” Eleni screamed, hitting me on the arm.
“Shut it,” I muttered, turning away, but they wouldn’t stop.
“You wish you were as good as me,” my aunt said, doing the wave with Valerious and Eleni. They were cheering her name, and mocking mine.
Finally, after much insult and injury, I had enough. I stood up from the booing, and walked away. And I kept going, I got on my bike and pedaled to the Super Market. I didn’t cry, but I was ticked off, so I wanted to think in a space that wouldn’t be insulting me and I wouldn’t have the urge to strangle anyone.
The Super Market is farther out than anything our group goes to, being that it is located in the center of the road that connects everything to everyone. Still, it’s worth going there if you have something you need.
I parked my bike over there and proceeded to move throughout the store. I wasn’t there for booze, because that didn’t have a point. I’m not a lame alcoholic that drowns all his problems in liquor. I drown them in stories, which is why I went over to where they were selling notebooks.
I had bought one earlier to make use of when doing my Latin homework, as I felt that I wanted to finish that before I got to the States, where I would do my English homework. Or Summerwork, as it should have actually been called, but slave labor might have been better, as I was forced to do it instead of tanning my body. The sacrifices that I make for school.
I bought another, I don’t really know why, and headed over to Mango, where I drank a Guinness while I wrote. I guess I felt like I had to record something, so I wrote….
You might not have guessed it, but I started the story you’re reading right now, but it was different. Was writing out of anger, the last of my emotions, and that really isn’t a good emotion to write with. I normally write under pressure. But I only filled the first page before I left, I didn’t finish the beer, but I didn’t really want to be there. I paid the bartender the five Euros and headed to the one place where I was always welcome.
The beach. I assumed that Yaniis and everyone would be there, and I was correct. They were all huddled near the fire, playing Truth or Dare. I never opened the book again, I guess there was no point to it after all. I reopened it later on, for this story, but I started from scratch.
“Dare,” Yaniis answered Ireni, who then told him to take off his pants. He complied, casuing all the girls to erupt into giggles. All the gang was there, so I felt happy inside.
“Hey Yaniis,” I muttered, taking a piece of sand next to him. The fire was what I looked at, with its wild nature. It reminded me of myself, or at least, the part of me that still lived in Corfu after all these years. Hey, I guess I am a philosopher.
“Is that beer you have?” he asked, taking a closer look at the bottle I held in my hands.
“Yep, Guinness,” I answered, showing him the label. His eyes widened, his mouth began to drool.
“Let me get some of that,” he begged, he really loved the strong English beer.
“Knock yourself out,” I answered, handing him what was left of the bottle, which he downed at super sonic speed. I in fact timed it, and he measured at about two milliliters per second, or something like that. What little remained of the drink was gone fast, soon replaced by a satisfied Yaniis.
“Thanks buddy,” he said, handing the bottle back to me empty. I didn’t mind, so I got up and threw it away, before returning to the fire with the others, passing the time playing Truth or Dare.
We played for most of the night, and as no one was drunk off their head, it wasn’t as bad as before, when we had people doing stripteases. Instead, it was just stupid things like random kissing, the usual proposal of marriage, and of course, the celebrated jumping over the fire, which I ace every time.
“Truth or Dare?” I asked Yaniis, who thought about it for a while.
“Truth,” he said, my reputation for having people do stupid things was amazing. I thought of the most random stuff, and liked to think outside of the box. If they had done it before, there was a good chance I wasn’t going to ask them that, but instead something completely unexpected.
Later, Filermenie and Agne went off to the cliffs for a smoke, around eleven-thirty. I was disgusted that the habit would grab some of my friends, I had even known Agne for years. Carina was starting a little, and Zoi was probably going to copy her sister. I guess it was just part of growing up, with all the ups and downs you would expect.
We were all changing, I was still unsure about being a writer, and everyone else was making big decisions about life. We were growing apart in our hobbies and habits, kind of a tear jerker, like ones you see in movies. People changed, and I finally understood that, even though I had probably changed most, from the moving to the ideas in writing.
Later that night, I returned home at exactly midnight. I decided to really annoy Mom and pretend I was drunk. I didn’t ride up the hill to the house, but instead chose to walk up with the bike barely being held up in my hand. I laughed to myself, time to put my acting abilities to the real test. Against Mom.
I slurred my way upstairs, where everyone was still sitting. Sara was playing against Eleni and losing, while Uncle Spiero had gone to bed for the night. Mom was reading and John and Valerios were helping Sara, because Eleni knew how to play the game better than she did.
“Okay, throw the Jack do-” John was coaching, as I barged my way onto the balcony.
“Good…evening,” I mumbled, collapsing into one of the plastic chairs we kept out there to sit on. “I trust you all had a pleseanty…evening.”
“What happened to you?” John asked, leaning in closer. My eyes were half closed, and not moving. I was later told this was wrong.
“Had a few drinks,” I answered with a whisper, dulling my eyes to give the effect that I was utterly out of it.
“How many?” my mother asked, her voice going along the lines of satanic. You do not want to get my mom mad, there is no telling if you’ll even live through it. Once, I was bad, acting up and everything, so my mom got my dad in the room, and took a horse whip to my backside. It’s never been the same since.
“Don’t really remembery,” I slurred back, while everyone started panicking at the thought of me drunk.
“George,” my mom muttered, as she looked at her brother.
“What?” he asked, he hadn’t been paying attention.
“Check to see if he’s drunk,” she commanded, pointing at me. He complied, and looked me over for a minute or two, before turning back to Mom.
“Well?” she asked, giving him the evil eye.
“I really can’t tell, the kid’s a good actor if he’s lying,” he said grinning. This did not make my mom happier.
I stood up to take my leave on them. I staggered down the stairs in comical action, but not to the point of injuring myself. I went straight for the door to our area of the house, the downstairs. I barely opened the door, because I was staying in character even when they couldn’t see me.
I dashed over to the table that was on the west side of the bottom part of the house, and sat down in a chair, placing my head to the table’s surface. I stashed the notebook I was still carrying in my bed, and waited.
It didn’t take long, so I enjoyed the silence while I could. Then the cavalry showed up in the form of Aunt Sara with water and bread.
“Here, eat this,” she muttered, passing the stuff to me. I looked up with my dull eyes, and gnarled on the scrap of bread she had brought feebly, staying in character as always. I then guzzled the water, spilling part of it on the tablecloth. I turned away, while she began to lecture me about abusing alcohol. And she did it with that stupid cigarette.
It was just like a story a friend of mine once told me about his D.A.R.E. instructor when he was a kid. This tall, bald guy would come to his health class once a week to talk about the evils of drugs, and everyone listened because he was so respected and he honored those rules.
When he went to the store the next day, he saw that instructor sucking on a smoke, and lost all idea of what the guy was talking about in class. If people tell you about all these morals, you would think that they themselves would follow them right? Wrong, many times they just tell you not to do it so you don’t, but it’s perfectly fine for them to. I really hate it, it’s like the ancient proverb that Henry VIII of England once said, declaring, “Do as I say, not as I do!” Really stupid rule, as banning something instantly makes it cool for some reason.
I didn’t really pay attention, but I did when my mom got in the room, and started to threaten me with everything. No Gamecube, no TV, no Harry Potter. My mind sat up at that one, while my form was still out of it. See, I swear J. K. Rowling does this for the cruel pleasure of torturing me. Every time a Harry Potter book is released, I’m always in Greece and I have to wait like a month before I can read it, it’s really unfair. And it really doesn’t help when people next to my house have the book in English and I want to read the version that my parents buy me at home.
So I quit, the game was getting old anyways. “You got me,” I muttered, as everyone breathed sighs of relief. I was then told the real symptoms of being drunk, which range from saying you’re not drunk to wide eyes, in contrast to the half opened ones I had. My family can be strange.
So I wasn’t punished, I wasn’t hurt, and nothing was taken away from me for admitting I wasn’t drunk, kind of like the Salem Witch Trails. All you had to do was admit, and nothing happened to you.
I slept soundly that night, as I was very tired from everything that had been happening in the last few days. All the partying, all the swimming, and all the eating was really going to my head. We were relaxed, I was relaxed, a near-impossible thing for me, because I should always be on guard.
Little did I bother to care about how all the fun and games and making fun of my brother were going to come and bite me in the butt. Greece was going to collect for all the fun I had had on its soil.
