Bryce

The Second Semester

Chapter 22 - Party, Party

            Friday, February 12, was an extremely busy day for Bryce.  In addition to the exam in his English course, there was an important meeting of his History study group that afternoon.  This was the last meeting of the group before the exam in that course on Monday, and so that would be an intense session, just like the one in English the evening before.  In addition, Sigma Alpha Tau fraternity had chosen to sponsor a dance party celebrating both St. Valentine’s Day and Mardi Gras that evening, and he, as a new member, was supposed to help prepare for that.  To do what he could, Bryce went over to the fraternity house as soon as he got out of his English exam, and spent an hour and a half helping get the place ready, with decorations and the like, but that would be the last he could do before the party.  He was joined there by Damon, whose schedule was not quite so hectic.

            Bryce and Damon rushed back to the cafeteria to grab a bite of lunch, and then they both took off for their Biology class.  There, Bryce exchanged a few words with Dr. Harris about the planned joint meeting of the GLBT Club and the Biology honors society, and enjoyed his lecture on local fauna.  This was followed immediately by Dr. Dickinson’s History class, the last before the exam on Monday.  Thus far in this class, which essentially covered eighteenth-century British history, the class has covered from the background to the accession of King George I in 1714 to the Jacobite Uprising of 1745, the last chance of the Stuarts to regain the British thrones.  In this last class, Dr. Dickinson was lecturing on the Pelham administration, and how it had solidified the constitutional achievements of the Walpole years.  After the removal of Sir Robert Walpole from his position of preeminence in 1742, there was a brief period during which John Carteret (1690-1763), later Earl of Granville, led the cabinet, but by mid 1743 Henry Pelham (1694-1754) was the leading figure in the government.  There was still no formal office called the Prime Minister, but it was Pelham, with the support of his brother Thomas, Duke of Newcastle (1693-1768), who set the tone for the administration.  Pelham was First Lord of the Treasury, Chancellor of the Exchequer, and Speaker of the House of Commons, indicating that the connections forged under Walpole remained valid.  Control of finances and support of the majority in Commons gave the Pelhams the power to govern, while King George II gave them the sheen of authority.  Both brothers had been strong supporters of Walpole, and so it was his system which prevailed.  From the eighteenth century onward, it was less the monarch who ruled, and more the prime minister, even if there were no official office by that title.  Of course, it is unlikely one could remain in office for very long without at least passive support from the king, but it was the politicians who set the tone and the agenda for the government.

            Once the class was over there was a brief period when Bryce was able to get a coke and gather his thoughts, then those in the study group plunged into intense preparation for the examination on Monday.  They discussed the major themes of the course thus far, not only in government, but in British society as well, during the first half of the eighteenth century.  Bryce was pleased to find that his fraternity brother, Jack Datillo, also thought it more important to study for the exam than to prepare for the party.  There would be some negative comments from brothers, but it could not be helped, and there would be sufficient help at the fraternity house that everything would be ready by the time the doors opened to the public at 7:30.

            The study group lasted from 3:30 to 7:00, and might have gone on longer except that Bryce and Jack left, and several others insisted they had other obligations as well.  After all, not every possible fact could be reviewed, nor every possible theme explored.  In general, those in the study group were serious students, and had been keeping up all semester.  Those who chose to wait until Sunday evening to cram would be the ones at the bottom of the heap when grades were handed out.

            Leaving the study group, Bryce returned to his room in Clay Hall.  This party was a costume affair, in keeping with the Mardi Gras theme, so he had to don the outfit he had chosen.  It was fun to go shopping for a costume with Damon, who had never had a “store-bought” costume before.  Any dressing up he did as a child for Hallowe’en, for example, was done with materials found at home.  So, a week prior to the party, the two young men visited a costume shop and spent over an hour trying out various possibilities and enjoying dressing up.  Finally, Bryce chose to go as an eighteenth-century gentleman, perhaps influenced by his studies in English and History, while Damon decided to be a pirate.  Henry Morgan (1635-1688), Captain Kidd (1645-1701), and Blackbeard (1680-1718) were a little early to overlap with the figure Bryce intended to portray, but they figured they could fudge a bit and no one except maybe Jack Datillo would notice.  Damon had already gone on to the Sigma Alpha Tau house to help at the beginning of the festivities, but, knowing his study group would run late, Bryce had finagled a later period to put in his service to the fraternity.  It took a while to get his costume correct, especially the powdered wig, but he made it to the house before 8:00.

            There Bryce found Matt Bostick filling the function he frequently carried out, that of manning the door, checking identifications, and collecting an entrance fee from non-members.  In his haste to change, Bryce neglected to transfer his wallet with his fraternity identification from his jeans to his costume, and for just a moment he thought Matt was going to make him go back to the dorm to get it, but Matt was only making him suffer for not being there to help beforehand, and playing around with him.  In the end, he let Bryce in when a genuine paying customer appeared.

            Bryce discovered Damon attending to the snacks, laying out comestibles on a table in one of the smaller rooms.  This was of definite interest to Bryce, as he had not had time to eat dinner, and very definitely did not want to begin drinking before fortifying himself with something solid in his stomach.  To do otherwise was an invitation to disaster.  Bryce ate cheese, crackers, chips, and just about anything else which fell into his grasp while he talked with Damon and others.  Damon complained that after Bryce went through the offerings, he had to go back to the kitchen for new supplies.  Bryce spent his time at the table talking with his brothers in the fraternity.  All the party-goers wore a mask of some sort, but Bryce could identify most of his fraternity brothers by their voices, and many wore the fraternity ring as well.  It was the ones he did not know who were the mystery persons this evening.

            As he emerged from gorging himself on snacks, Bryce encountered a female looking a bit like Martha Washington.  As he approached, he definitely recognized that voice.

            “Hello, Caroline.  Glad you could make it,” he greeted Caroline Koehler.

            Without showing the least surprise at being identified, Caroline responded, “And a very good evening to you, Bryce.  It looks like our tastes in costumes run along similar lines.  Who are you supposed to be?  Anyone special?”

            “Not really.  I thought about being James Boswell, Johnson’s biographer, but that sniveling little Scotsman does not appeal to me.  I think he’s a supercilious twerp.  Besides, I can’t do a convincing Scottish accent.  I note you had no difficulty identifying me.”

            “A musician has to have a trained ear for identifying variations in sounds.  It carries over.  The interesting thing is that you evidently can do the same,” Caroline replied.

            “Only to a limited extent,” Bryce admitted.  “I have to have heard someone over and over to be able to do it with any confidence.  But with you I had no doubt.  And you?  Are you representing anyone in particular?”

            “I,” Caroline pronounced, “am Marianna von Martines.”

            “And who is Marianna von Martines?” Bryce asked.

            “Really, Bryce, for someone who says he likes Mozart, your knowledge is sadly lacking.  Marianna was born in 1744 and lived until 1812, almost entirely in Vienna.  Her father’s family was originally Spanish, but spent some time in Italy before the move to Vienna before her birth.  They were closely associated with Metastasio, who, surely you know, was the poet laureate and leading composer of libretti at the Imperial Court during the mid portions of the eighteenth century.  He it was who arranged for Marianna to take keyboard lessons from Hayden.  As a vocalist, she performed before the Great Empress, Maria Theresa herself, numerous times.  She not only performed as a singer and keyboard artist, but wrote some very interesting pieces herself.  Most of it is church music, including two oratorios.  Your god, Mozart, attended her musical soirées, and composed four hand piano sonatas to be performed with Marianna.  So there!”

            “I am much enlightened by your discourse, Madame Marianna,” Bryce replied.

            “No, not madame.  Marianna never married, but devoted her life to her art, as I intend to do,” Caroline insisted.

            “In that case, Mademoiselle, or Signorina, or Fräulein, as you prefer, would you do me the honor of the next dance?  Not a minuet, I’m afraid, but the best we can do in these degenerate times,” Bryce pronounced, bowing deeply.

            Later, Bryce had the duty of working at the bar, filling orders from the party-goers and making an attempt, at least, to cut off those who had already had too many.  To assist in this latter task, Kurt Bordenkircher, a hulking six foot four and 220 pound football player from Iowa, and also a brother at SAT, was assigned to work with Bryce.  He was not very good with anything except removing bottle caps and corks, or carrying a new case of something from the storeroom to the bar, as far as being a bartender was concerned, but he represented a very persuasive argument when someone chose to complain about being cut off.  This job kept Bryce busy for his two hour stint behind the bar.

            Busy, but not totally absorbed.  Bryce recognized the voices of Harry Dwyer and Cory Blaine when they came for drinks, and noticed them later with their heads together, looking very pleased with themselves.  He wondered what they were up to.  It could be nothing good as far as Bryce was concerned.  Just as his period at the bar was drawing to a close, he observed them looking especially jubilant, and wondered what caused that.  Then Harry pointed to the staircase, and Bryce noticed Curtis Manning and his fiancée, Maddy Moore, making their way up.  As an officer of the fraternity, Curtis had a room at the house, of course, and it was nothing unusual to see couples make their way upstairs for a little personal time during these parties, although it was a little early in the evening for that.  Curtis was so besotted with Maddy he could not keep his hands off her, and she was just as bad.  Bryce sighed, thinking that very romantic, and predicting a long and happy married life for his friends.  But then he wondered why Harry and Cory were so interested.  They surely had very different feelings towards the pair than did he.  It seemed inexplicable, but Bryce filed this away in his mind for future reference.

            After being relieved at his station, Bryce circulated around the house, stopping to replenish his supply of edibles to dilute the drink he held in his hand.  At the snack table, he spoke with Jason Todd, who informed Bryce that he had been accompanied to the party by a friend of his.  Asked who, Jason pointed to a figure costumed as the Joker from the Batman movies.  Jason and Bryce moved across the room, where Jason tapped the fellow on the shoulder.

            “I have a friend of yours here,” he announced.

            The man turned.  He was so well made up, Bryce had no idea who he might be.  He had been talking to another student Bryce did not recognize, one costumed as a paratrooper.

            “He doesn’t recognize us,” the second student crowed.

            “Shame on you, Bryce.  We knew you as soon as we laid eyes on you,” the first said.

            Hearing the voice, Bryce knew the person.  “Gary!  I’m surprised to find you here,” he exclaimed, addressing the President of the GLBT Club.  “Who’s your partner?  I’m afraid I can’t place the voice.”

            “Another of the gay contingent on campus.  Surely you remember seeing Larry Guthrie at our meetings,” Gary admonished him.  “But, I should clarify, Larry is not my partner in any strict sense, but just a friend.”

            “Of course I remember Larry.  He was the polite one when Damon and I made our initial enquiries about joining the Club.  How are you, Larry?” Bryce said, shaking his hand.

            “Absolutely devastated that you didn’t recognize me, but otherwise holding my own,” Larry replied.

            “You have spoken so highly of SAT, and got this group to support us at a crucial point last month, so we decided to stop by and see for ourselves,” Gary explained.

            “I’m really glad you did, and I hope you enjoy yourselves,” Bryce told them.

            At that moment, there was a distinct rise in the level of noise from the main room where the dancing was taking place, and a particular type of music was being played.

            “I think that might be Damon beginning his shameless exhibition,” Bryce joked.  “Come and watch.”

            Bryce was correct.  As they crowded into the large assembly room, Damon and his usual dance partner, Kitty Jansen, were center stage.  For the next ten minutes, they entertained the crowd with their gyrations, showing amazing physical dexterity, and accommodating it all to the rhythms of the music.  The on-lookers clapped and shouted, encouraging them to keep it up.  By the time the music stopped, they were dripping sweat and breathing hard, but bowed to acknowledge the accolades of their peers.

            Damon came over to where Bryce was standing.  Realizing what his partner would need more than anything else at this point, Bryce had a cold drink awaiting him, which Damon gratefully guzzled.  Gary, Larry, and Jason all congratulated Damon, slapping him on the back and telling him how great he was.

            Damon leaned over and whispered to Bryce, “I danced hard, and my birthday is coming up in two days, so I think I deserve a treat.  As soon as I finish this coke, let’s go upstairs, and you can leave me breathless for a different reason than Kitty did.”

            “How can I resist.  A pirate like you would undoubtedly make me walk the plank if I held back,” Bryce replied, equally quietly.

            “Yo ho ho, and a bottle of Mountain Dew,” Damon agreed.

            Not long after, taking their leave from their friends, Bryce and Damon made their way upstairs.  As it would happen, they found themselves in Curtis’ room.  It was the policy of the house that rooms were available to members and guests during parties unless locked.  Bryce had little time to notice anything about the room, as Damon grabbed him and engulfed him in a passionate kiss as soon as they were past the lintel.  Without disturbing this expression of feeling, Bryce reached behind himself and locked the door, then allowed himself to be led over to the bed.  The two sank onto the plainly furnished bed, automatically registering the fact that Curtis was making use of a plastic sheet to prevent unwanted souvenirs of the party from becoming a permanent part of his mattress.  It did not take long before both guys were stripped and arranged head to thigh so they could each provide the other with oral sexual satisfaction.  There was undoubtedly an element of lust in their mutual attentions, but by far the greater emotion was the deep love they felt each for the other.  They did not rush this part of the encounter, so they were absent from the main floor for at least three quarters of an hour.

            The great satisfaction Bryce felt after his love making with Damon was adulterated as they descended the stairs by seeing Harry and Cory smirking about something and observing the staircase as though it were a military target.  Cory also had a sour expression on his face, as though he had bitten into something rotten.

            But these negative impressions were quickly swamped with more positive feelings as the two young men reintegrated into the party, dancing, talking, and enjoying their friends and fraternity brothers.  Late in the evening, Bryce danced with Damon for a single dance, while two or three other gay couples did the same, Jason with Gary, and Mike with David.  As they finished their dance and left the floor, Bryce again noticed that sour expression on the face of Harry Dwyer.

            As he had arrived late, Bryce stayed until the party closed down, and helped clean up.  Although he had been there to help set up, Damon also stayed late, mainly because Bryce did.  They did not get back to their rooms in Clay Hall until about four in the morning.  Bryce was holding forth that it was not really morning until daybreak, as that’s what the word meant.  Damon was paying no attention at all.  Once in their bedroom, and divested of their costumes, they collapsed into bed, too exhausted to contemplate anything else.

            The only remarkable thing about Saturday was that Bryce did not rise to work out in the gym.

            Sunday was a very special day.  It was not only a Sunday, which was always somewhat special, but was the Feast of St. Valentine, and not only that, it was Damon’s nineteenth birthday.  The day began with passionate but tender lovemaking, leaving both guys breathless but sated.  They showered together, then went out to a Cracker Barrel for an excellent breakfast.  As they returned to the parking lot behind the dorm, Bryce popped the trunk and removed a large package.

            “What’s that?” a naturally interested Damon asked.

            “You’ll find out upstairs,” Bryce answered.

            Back in their rooms, Bryce kissed Damon, then presented him with the parcel.  “This is your birthday present.”

            “I thought we were going out to dinner this evening, after the soup kitchen, as my birthday present,” Damon objected, but took the package anyway.

            “We are.  I should have said this is part of your birthday present,” Bryce clarified.  “Open it.”

            “What’s this?” Damon demanded, as he noted the markings on the package.  “Bamako?  Isn’t that in Africa?”

            “It is.  I checked out the contents when it arrived, but I thought you might want to see the wrappings as well, so I preserved all that.”

            Eagerly, Damon opened the package.  When he got past the packing, he found a riot of color.  There was a knee length tunic in green, trousers in red, and a turban-like headdress and belt in gold, the colors of the Republic of Mali.  They were made of the finest wool, and brightly colored.  There was nothing hesitant or muted about that.

            Damon was almost speechless.  Finally he managed, “Wha ... what is all this?”

            Quite pleased with himself, Bryce replied, “You recall that, at Christmas time, I present you with the results of DNA testing, which indicated that your ancestors were from the Bambara speaking people of West Africa.  Well, most of the Bambara speakers today are located in the Republic of Mali, whose national colors are green, gold, and red.  This is more or less the equivalent of formal wear there, sort of a Malian tuxedo.  I thought you might like it.”

            “Like it!  I love it!  But where ... how did you get it?” Damon stammered.

            “When I saw how much that DNA certificate meant to you back at Christmas time, I consulted Mom, did a little computer search, then contacted a supplier in Bamako, the capital city, and had this shipped.  I kind of know your size,” Bryce smirked.  “I’ve been keeping it in the trunk of the car, so you wouldn’t come across it by accident, or on one of your snooping expeditions.”

            “I do not snoop!” Damon indignantly replied.  Rather than argue, though, he immediately stripped to his underwear, and tried on his new garments.  Looking at himself and spinning around in front of the bathroom mirrors, he was as happy as a small child at Christmas.

            “Do you suppose I could wear this to your church?” Damon asked.

            “I think that would be a wonderful idea.  I’m sure the Sandovals would like seeing you in all your splendor,” Bryce replied.

            “What about your priest?” Damon questioned.

            “He wears gaudy clothing anyway.  He has no right to protest.  If he can walk down the aisle wearing a sixth century Byzantine tuxedo, I guess you can wear one from twenty-first century West Africa,” Bryce asserted.

            The two laughed and even giggled as they prepared to depart for St. Boniface.  In the parking lot, they encountered the Sandovals.  Damon had on a jacket over his finery, as it was, after all, February, but he unzipped it and showed off his new accoutrements to the oohs and aahs of his friends.  Isobel insisted that he remove his jacket as soon as they were inside, so everyone could appreciate his garb as they seated themselves well forward of the middle of the nave.  There was no doubt that Damon attracted quite a bit of attention that morning.  Father Payne looked disapproving, but they paid him no heed.  When Damon went up to receive a blessing from Deacon Jeffers at communion time, the Deacon winked at him and grinned broadly.

            After Mass, they were accosted by numerous congregants asking about the clothing Damon was wearing.  It was a good thing Bryce had clued him in beforehand.  Then they all made their way to the Olive Garden for their midday meal.  The receptionist complemented Damon as he was being seated, and their waiter told him he was “way cool.”

            “I feel like everyone is looking at me,” Damon said, making it clear he did not object to that phenomenon.

            “As it should be.  After all, it is your birthday,” Bryce assured him.

            The talk was as lively as usual over their meal, and a lot of it centered on Damon, Mali, Bambara, and West Africa.

            Back at the dorm, Damon carefully removed his vesture, making certain everything was laid out with care.

            “You are going to wear that to the shelter,” Bryce informed him, “and to dinner afterwards.”

            “You can’t boss me around, it’s my birthday,” Damon declared.  “I am going to wear this to the shelter and to dinner afterwards.”

            The two kissed and laughed, and then kissed some more.

            When Bryce called home, he quickly lost control of the conversation.  Martha spent much more time talking to Damon, who described in great detail his new acquisition.  She admitted helping Bryce in the initial stages of his purchase, but insisted it was entirely his idea, all she did was help expedite it.

            When they got into the car to drive to the soup kitchen, Damon refused to wear a jacket.  He wanted the boys to appreciate him from the outset.  Bryce threatened him with pneumonia, to no avail.  DeShawn and Malcolm were appropriately impressed.  Their mouths hung open and they gawked in the car doorway when they saw Damon in all his glory, until Bryce told them to get in and close the doors, as they were letting out all the heat.  The boys were so excited about Damon’s dress that they almost forgot to move.  They decided Damon was “bitchin’” and “way cool” too.

            As they pulled into the parking lot behind the shelter, DeShawn reached into his pocket, and pulled out a gaily wrapped package.  “Here,” he said to Damon.  “It’s not from Africa, it’s from Walmart.”  Malcolm leaned in and did the same.  Damon opened the two packages, and found a recording of classic jazz from DeShawn, and a contemporary disc suitable for dancing with Kitty from Malcolm.  He thanked both boys.  “Not from Africa, but from the heart,” he insisted.

            At the shelter, Deacon Jeffers again made it clear he appreciated Damon’s finery, but refused to allow him to work in the kitchen in them.  “Either take it off, or wait outside,” the Deacon told him.  “I don’t want you getting that outfit messed up.”  So Damon only did work which did not endanger his garb, having an easier time than usual.  The guests at the soup kitchen were as impressed as everyone else, asking questions and talking about it unceasingly.  Several of the women insisted on feeling the material.  Damon almost wished he had not worn his new outfit, as it limited what he could do and caused so much disruption.  Almost, but not quite.  He was still extremely proud of the way he looked by the time he and Bryce left the soup kitchen, earlier than usual, as they were not eating there this evening.

            Bryce took Damon, not to El Rincon Latino, because they had seen the Sandovals earlier, and they would not be working this evening, but rather to one of the most exclusive restaurants in town.  Here, too, Damon created a sensation, even if of a more restrained kind.  Their waiter, a young man in his twenties, evidently thought Damon was some kind of dignitary.  He addressed him as “sir” and gave awkward little bows.  Damon and Bryce played along, pretending Damon’s English was imperfect and discussing West Africa as though he had just come from there.  Damon did a creditable African accent.  In the process, he said a lot of nonsense about West Africa, but it sounded impressive.  It was great fun, to accompany their fillets mignons.

            Back in the dorm, as Damon again carefully removed his clothing and hung it in the closet, he remarked, “This has undoubtedly been the best birthday I’ve ever had.  Most of the time back in the projects, no one remembered anyway, but this made up for an awful lot.  Come here and make love to me.”

            “Yes, sir,” Bryce said, bowing like the waiter in the restaurant.