Young Writers Society

Chapter 16 (pt. 2)

Drenching the paintings with lighter fluid was not a good idea. I knew I had a bad feeling about this!

She ran toward him, her hair flying and mouth screaming at him.

“Wolfeman!” She yelled.

He held a lit matchstick in his hand. The matchbox he had probably struck it against was in his hoodie pocket, looking like an instrument of evil. Curi swallowed.

“What? I'm working.” He groaned.

“Mister Wolfeman stop! This is too much! You can't ruin that art!” She should have stopped him in the first place, but she hadn't known he would go this far. She thought he would harmlessly take the paintings to scare the Digis then give them back untouched.

Wolfeman narrowed his amber eyes at her with no intention to stop. Purposefully, he dropped the match into the liquid. Flames grew quickly, distorting the vibrant paintings. A faint crackle of the fiery artistic mess could be heard in the air.

Wolfeman pulled out a pack of matchsticks, reaching for another. Her mouth was agape.

“Mister Wolfeman! Stop! Stop!” Curi grabbed his arm. Her rash movement made him fumble the entire pack of matches into the growing-monstrous flames.

“Oh gosh,” Curi cried, covering her face with her hands. Her stomach flipped. Wolfeman would probably be put in jail for arsonist crimes, and the slander would only continue ten-fold on the Andrews name. Questions began pounding in her head: Why didn’t she just ignore that ridiculous couple? Why did she involve Wolfeman? Why would he do something so evil? Why couldn’t she feel happy about it? If only she could do this entire ordeal over, she wouldn't care about the slander.

“Dang it! Now the fire's getting out of control!” Wolfeman snapped. “Get back!”

The fire spilled over into the grass, burning it up and seeking to devour more. The smell of the burning grass was sickening to her.

Suddenly, she gripped his sleeved arm tightly. “Oh no! Mister Wolfeman! The Digis’ statues! They…the…they—” She stuttered, trying to form the words. “The statues are wooden and will catch fire like nothing!” She could see the fire licking at the feet of the statues.

Wolfeman shook her off his arm, trying to push her back. “I don't care! Kid, do you want to get burned? Stop being stupid!” His voice sounded gruff.

Curi moved further away from him. Her eyes began to water and she was starting to cough from the smoke of burnt grass and paints. She had to do something—anything to stop this disaster.

“I am going to go inside and see if the Digis have a fire extinguisher!” Curi called out. Wolfeman could handle himself. He had made enough trouble anyway. She ran to the mansion's door, almost bumping into someone, the brunette high-topped boy. He was hunched over and breathing hard.

“Hey! They are coming!” He panted. The curly-haired brunette followed behind.

“They? Who are they?” Curi asked, feeling her heart race. She didn't know how this horrid night would end. The burning Digi statues didn't have an answer for her either. The front door was still opened, and she could hear the chatter of the crowd, moving to find out what the commotion was, her family included. She wondered if Mom and Dad could smell the waves of guilt coming from her like a vile perfume. Even Taveo had looked up from his ever-present phone.

“Everybody!” The brunette boys said to her though she didn’t care for the answer.

------

Mr. Digi paced around his front lawn, frustrated. The rest of the party-goers stood in the grass, watching the dying out, flickering flames of red and orange and yellow. The firemen had responded to Mr. Digi’s call quickly enough that the fire didn't spread to the mansion.

Wolfeman had worked his magic and managed to set half the yard on fire. Curi sat in some of the only green grass left, hugging her knees to her chest. She hadn't done the bad deed, but she felt responsible somehow. She had spurred Wolfeman to help and he had, in a twisted, fire-starting way.

“Baby, I am glad you are alright! I almost panicked trying to find you in the crowd.” Her mom cooed over her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Dad commented, “That darn Wolfeman. He needs to go back to traveling and stop being a troublemaker. He's a good guy, but he needs to use his talents in other ways.”

“Do you think Mister Wolfeman will be okay? Mr. Digi seems so mad he hasn't even thrown a tantrum and that speaks volumes!” Curi asked.

“I don't know. The Digis probably won't press charges on him if his daddy gives them another chance. They seem like the blackmail type.” Mom answered, unconcerned. “Why did he even start the fire?”

Curi tuned out her parents’ conversation and tried to feel better about what had transpired. At least she had managed to give Vamauri a biscuit before her father took her away from the chaos. In the midst of waiting for the firemen, the waiters had begun serving food outside.

The crunch of footsteps rang in her ear. There he was in all his cockiness, looking as if the words “concerned” and “guilty” didn’t exist. She crept away from her parents to face him.

“You know, my plan may have backfired by accidentally giving them the coolest party ending of all time. They, their wooden counterparts, literally went out in flames.”

“Mister Wolfeman?” She looked up. He had the nerve to be smiling.

“Don't ever say I didn't do anything for you, kid.” He patted her head.

She sighed and pushed his hand away. “How much trouble are you in?”

“I am not going to find out.” He waved his hand to flag down one of Mr. Digi’s shuttle drivers. Unfortunately, the driver either couldn’t see Wolfeman in his dark clothing or didn’t want to make an effort to get him. Wolfeman tried again to no avail until she stopped him.

Curi grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie almost like a child grabbing onto a parent.

“What? Where are you going? The Digis are important people here. They can track you down unless you make a deal with them.”

“My old man can work out the red tape. It’s what he's good for anyway. I gotta catch a flight.”

“To where?” She frowned.

“The Bahamas then Honduras. My new travel blog job starts in two days.” To her surprise, he told her, “Can you believe that I was able to get the job and help you. I guess giving back really does have its merits, Curi-dear.” He grinned, showing off his teeth.

Curi nodded.

“Later. I will see ya when I see ya. Tell your parents I said hi. Ophelia's giving me a ride to the airport,” Wolfeman said, waving goodbye.

“Wait. I guess you and Miss Ophelia are getting closer now.” Curi raised an eyebrow. Maybe the partners in crime were actually becoming friends. Wolfeman could be a bit jerky and Ophelia was selfish, but somewhere the two adults had a connection.

“Do you guess about a lot of things, little Curi?” He rolled his eyes, patting her head again.

“I wouldn’t have to guess if you would just answer.” Curi retorted, a bit of anger rising up in her.

Wolfeman sighed dramatically and picked in his ear. “Looks like I will be walking down the Digis’ excessively long path. Lucky me.” He ruffled her hair this time. “Be safe! Don’t grow up to be like me.”

Curi blinked. “Mister Wolfeman, you’ve been messing with my hair all night!” She looked down at her grass-stained shoes for a moment. “AND WHAT’S YOUR FIRST NAME?” She yelled to the empty spot where the young man had been.

He dashed off into the night, leaving his trail of trouble behind. Curi shook her head. He was such a weird guy.

-----

“Well, I guess we really can't compete with them,” Dad said, at breakfast the next morning before work. He bit into his sausage, a smidge of grease smothered into the corner of his mouth. Mom sighed and wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. Mom really does love Dad. Poor Mister Guillermo. He never had a chance, Curi thought.

The morning newspaper was spread across the dinner table near a buttery pile of pancakes. Taveo glanced at the headlines before pushing it towards Dad.

Curi leaned over her dad's shoulder to see the front-page newspaper article. Underneath an article about a new restaurant being opened, was a recap of the Mr. Digi’s party. A zoomed-in photo showed the life-sized Digi statues burning, and the silhouettes of party-goers watching it burn.

“The Digis go out with a Bang,” Curi read. She tried to skim through the article quickly. She hadn’t seen any mention of Wolfeman so far.

Dad rambled on, talking mostly to himself. “Yep. We are not going into debt to compete with that. Who would have thought they would pay Wolfeman to create a fire?”

Curi’s mouth hung open. “What? Where'd you an idea like that from?” She asked, confused.

Her dad opened the newspaper and pointed to particular excerpt. “The article continues on page 3. The Digi’s said that they purposefully bought wooden statues of themselves to be burned.”

Mom jumped into the conversation, laughing. “How gimmicky! I mean when we throw our next party—“ She immediately became disappointed, her brown eyes carrying a far-away look.

“I know, angel. I know.” Dad hugged her Mom’s side.

Mom sighed before she smiled. “The Thanksgiving party isn’t too far away.”

Taveo and Curi shared a look before laughing together. Was it possible for their parents to go through party-throwing withdraw?

“Anyway, they are so busy with the positive publicity that it seems they completely forgot about us?” Dad said. “Wolfeman Sr. is also agreeing to work with them again too.”

“Funny how things work.” Curi groaned. She pushed away from the dinner table, ready to start her schoolwork. Mom would be working at the library this day, but she had already written a schedule of assignments for her. Curi had enough foolery surrounding around dinner parties, and schoolwork offered a change of pace. “If I hear another thing about a dinner party, I am going to scream.”

Taveo laughed. “Well, wouldn't you know, Victorine-Ophelia says she's throwing one this weekend!”

Curi took a deep breath. She flexed her fingers. She looked at her mom and dad then Taveo. She looked at her plate of half-eaten pancakes submerged in honey—not syrup. She even looked at her red shirt (because she was taking a break from the color lavender and all the purples that followed).

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!” She screamed, the table shaking.

“Just kidding.”

-THE END-

The conclusion to the Dreaded Dinner Party story. It felt a little rushed, but I hadn't been able to think of any other way to end it. Anyway, thanks immensely to everyone who has helped review the previous chapters. You guys are lovely.