Monday arvie, and it’s sunny and warm with no wind. 
Cape Town, South Africa
Part 100
Well, the weekend started pretty quiet. Friday arvie, Mark had to go to work, and worked right through to close on Friday. I decided to take it easy and get a lot of studying done, so I was cooped up in my room for most of the time. The grommet came around to harass me for a few minutes cos he was going surfing.
“What about your homework and studying?”
“Surf’s up, Code. I’ll get to it [homework] this weekend.”
“Tonight?”
“No way. It’s Friday and we’ve got plans to get to a house party. It’s gonna be raving.”
“Try not to get stoned and totally trashed.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Hey, I’m being serious. I don’t want you becoming a fucking druggie.”
“I toldya, I’m not gonna take the m’s again. Yeah, so there’s gonna be weed over there and everyone’s gonna smoke.”
“Does Candy smoke it up?”
“Sometimes. Dunno if she likes it, though.”
“Just look after yourself. OK?”
“Want me to come around afterwards?”
“If my light’s on you can say hi.”
“Cool. I’ll be OK, Code. Promise.”
“Cool.”
I ended up getting into bed quite early and I was reading when Wingnut knocked on the window at about 2 in the morning.
“Cody! Hey, Cody.”
“Hey, bud. Howzit going?” *It obviously wasn’t going well. He was swaying all over the place and he looked up to shit*.
“Coolio. Whatya doing?”
“Reading – then sleeping. I see you had a good time.”
“It was a total rave. Can I come in?”
“Not a great idea. I don’t want my folks to see you like this.”
“That’s cool.”
“You’re a fucking wreck. You promised you wouldn’t get trashed.”
“Couldn’t help it. Pissed Candy off, too. So she went home early with one of the other guys and his chick. Pissing you off, too, huh?”
“What are your folks gonna say?”
“I’ll be OK in the morning.”
“You gonna get in [the house] OK?”
“Yeppo. Left my window slightly open.”
“So what are you on? Grass?”
“You don’t wanna know.”
“Yeah – I do.”
“I took a stripe of coke. There, now you know. And I smoked a coupla joints, and I had a few tequilas and a few rums.” *Silence*. “Now you’re mad, huh?”
“I actually don’t know what to say to you, buddy. You don’t listen, anyway. You’re gonna end up a total druggie [cos of] the way you’re going.”
“Crap. I’m fine.”
“Yeah, yeah. Listen, I’m going to get some sleep. You going to be OK?”
“I’m fine.”
I watched as he swayed across to the wall and then started to climb it, and fell over the other side. He waved as he climbed through his window. He never turned his light on so I assume he just fell on his bed and passed out.
[I can’t remember what I wrote when I responded to that email, but if I felt anything like I feel now I would’ve been deeply saddened by Wingnut’s behaviour. He’d only just turned 13. You have to wonder about the parents of all those kids who attended that house party. You also have to wonder about Wingnut’s parents; allowing a kid that age to be out until the wee hours. Where the hell were their heads at? Mind you, I used to get up to all sorts of tricks when I was his age, and my parents didn’t have a clue. Tobacco was the limit of my ‘drug abuse’, though. And the people responsible for the cultivation, distribution and selling of drugs, particularly to minors? A bullet through the brain. Destroyers of lives should have their own lives destroyed. That is my humble opinion. If I were able to get my hands on the assholes who made it possible for kids like Cody [at one time] and Wingnut and Steve to experiment with drugs, I’d happily choke them to death. I despise the low-life bastards with a passion. MrB]
I spent most of Saturday studying. Early in the evening I had a shower and then got into the tux. Hehe, my mom told my dad she’s in love with a younger dude. Hadta play it cool, though, cos my dad hadta tie the bowtie [for me]. The limo picked Mark up first, and he looked like a teenage James Bond when he got outta the car. My mom went apeshit and gave him a huge hug. He was wearing huge Boss stinkies and I hadta try fucking hard not to get a damn boner cos he looked so fucking sexy. Then we went on to Carol’s house and she looked like a princess. Her hair was [worn] up and she looked smashing. You shoulda seen the look on Mark’s face. He was beaming from ear to ear. [I remember asking Code for a pic of him in the tux but he never responded to my request. I guess it would have been difficult for him to separate his image from Steph’s [assuming that they were photographed together], and perhaps Mark’s and Carol’s as well. Code was always very protective of his folks’ and friends’ privacy. Hell, I knew the dude for over four years and he never once mentioned his real family name, suburb, or any other info that might have led me to his specific whereabouts. It still puzzles me why he revealed so much about himself and his friends to me and yet kept certain things secret. On the other hand, if I had known his family name and suburb he may never have been as free as he was with all the other info. MrB]
Steph knocked my damn socks off. She had her hair done in ringlets, hanging down, and she was wearing a strapless evening gown, which just showed enough cleavage to piss off every guy at the dance. ;)
The grade 11s did a smashing job with the hall. The ceiling was covered in blue and white material, and the whole hall was done up like a sea bottom so you got the impression that you were under the sea. They rigged up special lighting as well, which kinda shimmered all the time. The best part is that the grade 11s who were serving us [waiters] were wearing Speedos under mini skirts made of shiny satin cloth, which was cut into strips like seaweed. YUMMY!!!! I could’ve eaten their seaweed skirts as a starter and then as a main course I could uh, uh, uh ………. They also used their heads cos only the guys with good bods and legs were dressed like that. AAAAGGGGHHHHH!!! I had a fucking job staring and not letting anyone notice that I was staring.
Everyone at the dance looked fucking smashing. Ross, Jumbo, Kev. Even dipshit Alan looked almost human. He had a total doll with him.
Each table had a bottle of wine between four people. YEAH, RIGHT!!! And each tux had a half-jack of something a little stronger in the inside [coat] pocket. They didn’t have a band but the guy doing the disco was really hot. He knew just the right music to play, and when. The teachers were all there decked out with their husbands and wives and boyfriends and girlfriends. We don’t have a Prom King and Queen but I reckon Ross would’ve probably taken [the] Prom King [title] and then Steph for the Queen.
The dance went on until 1 in the morning, and then the party started. Remember the barn where we had that strip thing? Well, that’s where the “after party” was. Everyone managed to get there somehow, and then the tuxes were swapped for jeans and ts, although most of the guys just went topless cos it was pretty warm. The only prob with the whole thing is that everything else came out as well. More than a coupla people popped e’s and some of the guys were cutting lines [of coke] in one of the stables. Mark and Carol smoked one joint the whole night. I think Steph had one as well but I didn’t see her. She knows how I feel [about drugs] so she does it when I’m not looking. Steph and I disappeared into one of the stables and had a half hour of incredible sex, and then we passed out for about an hour.
When we woke up, everyone was still there and there was coffee available. Then a coupla guys decided that we should all hit the beach and get into a sunrise swim. Mark wasn’t into it but Carol was, so he didn’t have a lotta choice. He was determined that nothing was gonna spoil anything. The girls stripped down to their panties and bras, and the guys went in [to the water] in their boxers and briefs for whatever they were worth once they get wet. A coupla girls, including Steph, lost their bras when some of the guys started playing ‘strip the ladies’. Then we sat on the beach shivering and watching the sun come up. A coupla dudes came down to the surf and musta wondered ‘what the fuck’ when they saw us sitting there almost naked.
Then we started to drift home. The limo driver was saying that he’s never seen a bunch [of teens] so well behaved. (Yeah, right! But we didn’t destroy anything so maybe he was right). He dropped the girls off first, and then Mark and me. My folks were up when I got home, and I remembered telling them what a blast the night was and then passing out. I slept for most of the day. I woke up late in the afternoon with Wingnut shaking me. (BY THE SHOULDERS, G!! JEEZ!).
“So how was the party, Code?”
“Awesome.”
“How did the girls look? And Conan?”
“Everyone looked pretty rad. You been here long?”
“Nah. Been surfing with Brian.”
“And Sean?”
“Nah. We got slaughtered last night and he obviously can’t handle the pace, so he stayed home.”
“Fuck, Wingnut. Is that your mission in life now? To get slaughtered every possible chance you get?”
“Looks like you can talk. You look pretty wasted.”
“Ouch! My head feels like someone’s buried an axe in the middle of my forehead.”
“You’re getting too old to handle it. Toldya – old man.” Then he started to bounce on the bed.
“I’m gonna annihilate you, Wingnut.”
“You can’t. You’re too weak – and old.” *Bounce, bounce, bounce*.
My fist connected him on the hard muscle of his thigh and he collapsed on the floor [in pain]. “Oh, fuck, man.”
“Yeah, well, fight with the best and die like the rest, boyo.”
“You’re a fucking bully.”
“Hey, if you can’t handle the heat stay outta the kitchen.”
*He was rubbing his leg, and his eyes were watering from the pain. I didn’t think I hit him that hard*. “One day I’m gonna fucking hurt you, Cody.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah – promises, promises. Shame. Did you get hurt? Maybe you’re outta shape.”
“Shuddup, Code.”
“Maybe you’re getting weak from all the shit you’re taking.”
“Shut up, Cody.”
“Or maybe you’re just a little wuss.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
*Then he totally lost his temper and sent his fists flying, and caught me on the jaw, and he was just going wild. My dad came into the room and saw the two of us as I flathanded Wingnut. He fell back and was bawling his fucking eyes out*.
“What’s going on, Cody?”
“It’s nothing, dad.”
“Nothing? You becoming a bully now?”
“No, dad. It’s nothing – really. Hey, buddy, you OK?”
*Wingnut was sobbing and just walked out the door and went home*.
“Are you going to tell me what that was all about?”
“Dad, it started off as a play fight and we both just lost it. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, don’t ‘sorry’ me. I’m not the one you clouted.”
“I didn’t mean to do that.”
"Wingnut comes across as being a real little toughie, but sometimes you forget that he’s just a little kid who looks up to you to be a friend.”
I showered, and then spent the evening finishing off some studying for a test this morning. I went around to Wingnut’s place at about 8. His folks were pretty cool so they obviously didn’t have a clue [about] what happened. Or maybe he said that he was fighting with one of his other buds. He was in his room reading surfer mags.
“Thought you’re [supposed to be] learning [school stuff].”
“Fuck it.”
“Can I sit down?”
“If you want.”
“Canya put the mag down for a sec?” *He threw the mag on the floor and glared at me, and then laid back and stared at the ceiling*. “Want me to leave?”
“Hey … whatever.”
“OK, I’m gonna leave, but I want to say something to you and you don’t need to answer or say anything back. Since you’ve met Sean, you’ve totally changed. You’ve become a spoilt brat, and I think it’s cos Sean is giving you shit [drugs] for nothing. Sean’s a lot like Steve. He’s got no respect for money cos he gets it too easy from his rich folks. All his friends are spoilt brats as well. New sticks and wetsuits every summer. Overseas holidays once a year. And they really don’t give a shit about anyone but themselves. They dig you cos you’re good fun to be around, and you do everything they do or tell you to do. Even though you’re five years younger than me, I never thought of you other than you’re my friend. Yeah, I treat you like a little guy – that’s cos you are – but a cute little guy. Hehehe.”
*No response*.
“I write to a few dudes overseas on email and tell them some of the things you and I and Steve and the others get up to, and most of them keep asking about you cos they think you’re a fucking hero. I tell them about the size surf you ride and they go ‘wooohooo’. Out of all the guys I write about everyone thinks you’re like the tops.”
*No response. Is that a tear? Nah*.
“Well, if I hadta write and tell those dudes what’s happened to you over the last coupla weeks they’d think I was writing about someone else. All the drugs and shit? They’ll ask me why I didn’t stopya. Paul wrote me and said he hopes to hell you don’t end up like his [younger] brother who ended up in rehab twice, and keeps drifting back cos it’s so damn hard to stop [using drugs].”
*No response. Yeah, it is. Or maybe there’s just something in his eyes [that’s causing them to water]*.
“This bullshit this arvie with the two of us battling. It wasn’t a friendly fight. You know that. You were trying to fucking hurt me, and we were outta control. I hated my dad seeing that cos he loves you as much as me, and he was really pissed that I hit you.”
*Nothing*.
“I’m going now. I’m next door – if you need to talk about anything you know you can come over – even just to sit and lay back. I worry about you like you’re my own little brother, and I’d hate to see anything [bad] happen to you. I know that it’s not easy to say no to your friends putting pressure on you [to take drugs] but a coupla years down the line they’re gonna say something like: 'That Wingnut [guy] was the fucking bomb. He had the guts to be himself and say no'."
*Pause*
“Cya, buddy.”
Copyright © 2003 All rights reserved. mrbstories
