Into the River (23 page)

“Sorry, Briggsy. I told you three times. Dinner. Dinner. Dinner.”

Steph had an innocent look but Devon knew he was being malicious. While Briggs was getting organised, Steph made a “come this way” gesture with his eyes and Devon followed him quickly outside into the darkness. He could feel his arm being tugged in the opposite direction, down towards the water’s edge. In the shadow of two large rocks, Steph produced a joint and lit up.

“Come on, Devon, it softens everything.”

Devon made do with a single toke; it popped and spluttered as the seeds caught. There was an instant roaring in his ears. Later, as
they headed up to the cook house, Devon had to steady himself by holding a fistful of Steph’s jacket.

Devon found himself sandwiched between Sina and Vanessa. For a while all the rivalries and worries of school seemed pleasantly distanced as he mellowed out and voices mutated into noise. He began to focus on simple things. Just being there, buried in the group, his thin-skinned individuality sublimated in the noisy throng.

After dinner, a game of charades was organised and this time Devon found himself in a team consisting mostly of girls. The only one he knew was Sina. The teams took turns choosing a delegate from another team to act out a song or book title for the others. DD was the timer and Willie was supposed to ensure that no cheating took place.

After a few rounds everyone had a basic grasp of mimed vocabulary and so the challenges got more difficult. The material was extended to TV shows, sayings, and even random sentences. Sina was able to achieve
Sex in the City
in less than fifteen seconds. Devon was pleased that the others in his group were far keener than he was to accept the acting challenge; the grass he’d smoked had made him a bit self-conscious and paranoid. This was not the case with Steph. It was as though games like this had been devised with him in mind.

After a while the players in the other teams sensed that Devon wasn’t involving himself. A challenge with his name was scribbled out:
My Humps
by the Black Eyed Peas. He was still wondering how to play this title when DD announced that she was retiring for the night, and perhaps charades had run its course.

Willie decided to take over. He dragged his electronic piano into the centre of the seating area and tried to run through a few of the songs from the show. No one was interested; they wanted karaoke. Steph came over and joined Devon again, his face now flushed by his exertions. Devon said he wanted to go to bed but Steph wouldn’t hear of it.

“Take this,” he said, proffering a little orange pill.

“What is it? Where did this come from?”

“It’s E, from Willie’s little box of tricks.”

“Did he give you this?” asked Devon, incredulous.

“Not exactly,” said Steph with a cackle. “But he knows I’ve got them. That’s why our team won every charade. Our performance was drug-assisted. Go on, take one.”

Just as Devon swallowed the Ecstasy, Briggs’s head appeared through the gap. “What’s that?”

“E. Want some?” said Steph, without hesitation.

“I … I don’t think so …”

“You’re so boring, Briggs, you wonder why I never want to be with you … there’s your answer.”

Devon watched Briggs, fascinated as his resistance melted and he obediently dropped the orange pill.

“Happy now, Steph?”

“Oh, I’m always happy, Briggs. I find everything sooo hilarious.”

Steph jumped up and went over to where Vanessa sat. After some consultation, the two of them approached Willie to see if he could play their request. Devon recognised it from a DVD that Steph owned. It was
Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend
, sung in the manner of Marilyn Monroe. The singing seemed just a pretext to work the room as the two of them systematically slithered their way through the audience, finishing up on each side of Devon, roughing his hair and blowing in his ear. Across the room, Devon could see Sina, glaring at him. He wondered what had been said, what was going on between the two girls.

After this, Willie belted out a series of loud and fast rock and roll pieces which had everyone on their feet and dancing. Everyone except Briggs, that is, who sulked in a corner, his face turning progressively redder as the pill worked its magic.

“Come on Briggs, dance it off,” called Devon, but it was no good: he seemed determined to stay sullenly slumped where he
was.

Someone fed some house music through the amp and the next thing they knew Willie was in amongst them trying to out-dance everyone on the floor. Devon took his sweat-drenched shirt off and was duelling it out with Sina who seemed determined to keep Vanessa at bay: shouldering her out when she danced near. Willie was dancing with Steph and Snowy Gibson, the youngest boy on the island. The music pumped into the night, while the dancers were corralled into a tight, manic throng.

When the numbers thinned to the hard core of the E-fuelled, Willie suggested that everyone cool off in the sea. The idea of night swimming was so far beyond the acceptable that it hadn’t even been raised as a possibility. This meant that it also hadn’t been specifically forbidden, so after brief discussion, they all followed him down to shore.

They snuck down through the camp towards the foreshore, their rarefied excitement making it an ordeal of suppressed giggles and shhhhhes as they passed the bunk rooms filled with sleeping students. Finally they were greeted by the dark curve of the bay and stood on the cold sand looking out at the lines of phosphorescence marking each small breaker. Willie, as if sensing that they were waiting for a signal, peeled off what remained of his clothes and charged in ahead. The others followed, but not with the same reckless abandonment. Their white underwear gleamed in the moonlight.

After the initial gasps and squeals, three or four swimmers, having proved their courage, raced back to the bunk rooms, Vanessa among them. The five or six pupils remaining were content to bob about in the dark, soothing water. Sina swam over to where Devon waited and climbed onto his back. She seemed determined to claim him in the on again/off again competition that had started when she tried to keep Vanessa out of the dance circle. She wrapped her legs around his waist and gripped his shoulders tightly. Devon was surprised at how light she was in the water
and wrestled her around until they were facing each other. She hung her head over Devon’s shoulder and for a moment they were comfortable, enjoying each other’s warmth. Devon could hear Steph and Willie somewhere off to the side, invisible against the dark mass of the headland. On the pier a solitary outline signalled Briggs’s presence. He must have gone down to see what he was missing out on.

Devon turned and began to nibble at Sina’s neck and earlobe. He could feel himself growing hard again, which surprised him because the water was so cold. Sina pulled away for a moment and then came in to kiss him on the mouth. He wondered what had been said between the two girls. He moved into shallower water until Sina slid lower on his body. In the shallows the steady rise and fall of the water made them rub rhythmically together. Devon sensed her recognition as his cock slid up between their tightly clasped bodies. Even though he had come only hours earlier he knew he could not delay this much longer. He pulled her pants to one side and fumbled for her vagina. He expected resistance but there was none. In a moment he was inside her. She felt hot compared to the water in the bay. He was able to raise and lower her easily in the bobbing water and she gasped in his ear as he drove deeper. This time his overwhelming feeling was one of accomplishment. He wanted to stay there forever; the two of them locked, joined and somehow completed. A moment later he sensed her eagerness to struggle free so he grasped her hips and covered her mouth with his. Her wriggling, his thrusts, her fingernails on his shoulders, his beating heart, all quickly climaxed in an exquisite shuddering burst. “God!” she said and struggled free.

There was a look of panic on Sina’s face as she turned towards the shore. He floated dumbly in the shallows, watching her gather her clothes from the shoreline and disappear over the bank. He knew then that he had been wrong. Sina wasn’t Tania. Nor was she Vanessa. His rush to “accomplish something” had somehow spoiled the fun he was having. The jump from kid games to adult
activity had taken that away. Suddenly he felt regret. It had gone too far, too soon. Something had been broken.

As he hunted for his jeans among the garments scattered along the shoreline, he could hear arguing in the distance. It was Briggs, his voice unnaturally high, almost squeaky. Devon took off his underpants and pulled up his jeans over his wet legs. He could tell there was some sort of show-down brewing.

“You got something against people enjoying themselves …” Willie was smoking, and looking out to sea.

“… meant to be in charge …” Briggs was loving the moral high ground. “… I’m going to take this up back at school…”

Then he heard Steph’s more measured, calm voice as they came into view. “You’re such a jealous, wet blanket Briggs … anyway, you took E along with the rest of us. Devon will bear witness to that.”

“Yep,” said Devon. “But all it did was make his face go red.”

“Redder,” added Steph. “Just like a … just like a bumpy old strawberry.” He let out a cackle as he enjoyed his image.

“Fuck you, Steph!” Briggs stormed up over the bank.

“Someone should go after him I suppose,” said Willie without much enthusiasm.

“Let him go,” said Steph, “It’s what he always does. That’s why he’s such a loner …”

Something inside Devon winced. It was true, but the term “loner” was the ultimate insult at boarding school.

“I thought he was your pal these days, Steph.” Willie seemed momentarily interested in boy politics.

“You’re right, Willie, he is my pal. Do you know what pal stands for?”

Willie shook his head.

“Personal Arse Licker.”

They all laughed. It was the first time Devon had heard that one.

They ambled out to the end of the pier where Willie produced
a joint. He lit up, took a deep drag and passed it to Steph. “To tell you the truth,” he said, looking out to sea, “I’m a bit sick of this. Sick of the whole school thing.” Steph passed the joint to Devon and they both waited for him to continue.

“Don’t get me wrong, this week has been fun, but the rest of it … too many rules, too much pretending required. It’s just not me. Respectable, responsible, reliable …” He seemed to have run out of ‘r’ words.

“Call me irresponsible …” said Steph who always seemed to know the lyrics of a song to fill in gaps like these.

“Yes, I’m unreliable …” they both sang along, “but it’s, undeniably true …”

“I think I’ll quit at the end of the year, flap my wings and fly away.”

“What will happen to me?”

Devon was surprised to hear Steph say this. He doubted his sincerity.

Willie looked at him with a grin. “You’ll be all right, Steph. You’re the ultimate survivor. I am not so sure about young Devon here.”

Steph threw his skinny arm over Devon’s shoulder. “He’ll be all right. He’ll have me to look after him.”

Devon laughed, but he knew all too well that it was true.

When they got back to their bunk room they found that Briggs had moved out. There was a note on Steph’s bed.

He read it out.

“Dear Steph,

I used to believe we were friends, that we cared about each other. I know I did. Now I don’t understand you. Since you have been with Willie you have turned into a cunt. There’s no other word for it. Although it’s difficult I am going to have nothing to do with you from now on.

Your (ex) friend,

Barry Briggs.”

Steph looked up, with a twinkle in his eye. “I’m a cunt, Devon. There’s no other word for it.”

“Well, I like cunts Steph, I have to tell you.”

Steph put his hand on his chin, in a mock-reflective pose. “Hmm, I’m going to have to get to the bottom of what that means.”

He struck the pose of a comic strip super hero about to depart on a mission. “But first, I have work to do …” He sprang out the door and disappeared down the hall.

Devon, by this stage, was so exhausted that he didn’t even have time to speculate over where Steph was going before he dropped into a deep sleep.

When he woke in the morning, his hair was stiff with salt water. He could hear Steph snuffling in the bunk below. He squashed a mosquito on the wall next to his face. It left a circle of dark blood. The events of the previous evening had the chaotic intensity of a dream. Too much to make sense of. A year’s worth, in just a few hours. He thought of Sina and Vanessa. His sexual encounters. He wondered whether this had been something they planned before they came out (girls were such schemers). Maybe it was a competition between them. And what had Steph been doing with, or to, Willie? Or Briggs for that matter?

He peered over the edge of the bunk. Asleep, Steph looked much younger than fourteen. In full cry, he had the wit and confidence of someone seventeen or more, and by comparison Briggs seemed like a gormless younger brother. Sometimes even Willie seemed younger than Steph. A bit naive. Steph seemed to be the one in control.

Devon was suddenly reminded of DD’s
G.I. Jane
speech. That had certainly been swept away. How much of what had happened was going to resurface back at school?

It was all too much. He rolled over and went back to sleep.

Some time later, Briggs burst into their room and gave the bunk a boisterous shake. Devon woke with a start, frightened he
was going to fall out.

“Oh, Barry!” he heard from below. (It was Steph’s “Great Aunt Agatha” voice) “How delightful to see you in a more cheerful frame of mind.”

“They called breakfast some time ago. You’d better head up or you’ll miss out.”

“Thanks, mate. ’Preciate it.” His tone had switched to “truck driver” instantly. Steph had retained his ability to think on his feet, even lying in bed after a big drug-fuelled night. Briggs waited for action in the small room, all the time smiling foolishly, as if he was doing his level best to appear cheerful.