Dust Storm: Chapters 27-28

The Pit, 4:42 PM, Tuesday

Chapter 27

It’s Good

“I can’t wait to get in the pit!” Quincy says as he rubs his hands together.

“The what?” I say.

“The pit! Y’know, the big octagon in front of us.”

“It’s The Pit. This ring has earned a title. It’s special.” I say as I rub my hand across the dusty walls.

“Okay, it’s The Pit.” Quincy says as he scoffs.

“You’re such a hothead, Quince.” Michael grunts.

“A hothead?” That’s new.” Seán says as he turns to Quincy.

“You gon’ta take that, Quince?” Seán whispers.

Quincy shrugs. “Eh, I might as well get a nickname. E’ryone else ‘as one.”

We all watch Vincent and Connor battle it out in The Pit. They’re not playin, just messing around. Connor just wanted to get in there with Vin to maybe pick up on some moves.

Jack limps over to us.

“Hey guys. What’s goin’ on? Someone gettin’ their ass beat by the Sensei?”

“Jackie! How’s yer leg holding up?” I say.

“Oh, it’s better. I think they’re making the behemoth pay for it. It’s good on my part, ‘cause I don’t needta be spending that kinda money.”

“Ey, that’s great! Anything to make that Leroy feel like a bitch.” Seán says.

Seán usually didn’t swear, despite him being the embodiment of an Irish guy. He only did it when he was really mad. Like, fuming. We older scouts swear a lot, we just are sure not to do it around the first years. We don’t need Bronson on our asses every goddamn minute.

“Mr. Middleton, Mr. Fields, Mr. Dencer.”

The Clipboard says as he walks up to The Pit.

“Damn, how’s he remembering everybody’s names?” Michael says.

“He’s The Clipboard. He knows all about ya, even if you don’t talk to ‘im.” I say as Connor bumps into the wooden walls.

“Ah, damnit!” He shouts.

“He’s in way over his head goin’ up ‘gainst The Sensei. Come on, Connor, you joke of a man!” Jack shouts.

“Ey, shut it, mud ass! Your legs are fucked up!”

“Your legs are as limp as Seán’s dick, you lanky bastard! I’da thought yer legs got caught in a grinder!”

“Hey! Watch it, ya tall, creepy dumpster diver.” Seán snaps back.

“Yeah, Jack! Shut your ass! I’m tryna beat Vin!” Connor jumps back.

I cross my arms and chuckle. Vin’s making good hits, Connor just isn’t getting hit. Vin hits the ball down and it bounces up.

“I can’t touch it.” Vin smirks.

“Alright. I’ll play your little game.” Connor bounces the ball against the wall and it ricochets back at Vin, who slaps it back at Connor’s shin.

“Damn.” Connor looks at us and points to Vin.

“This kid is wicked at this game. How the hell do you do it, man?”

“Practice.”

Vin says, he takes off his glasses and wipes them off with his shirt. He puts them back on and pushes them up his face. They slide back down because his face is covered in sweat. All of us are, we’ve been running around all day goofing off.

“Alright, everyone get in The Pit.” The Clipboard says as he looks at all of us.

“Michael, Hothead? You boys ready?” Connor elbows Quincy.

“Just don’t lose your temper, and if ya do, let it out on Jack.”

“Hey! I nearly bled to death, you dickhead!” Jack hits the back of Connor’s head, making his cowlick flop over.

“Ahh, you’ll be fine, Quince.” I reassure him as he climbs into The Pit.

They throw up the ball and everyone shouts,

“Ga-Ga-Ball!!”

Michael pounds the ball against the wall.

BAM!

A dent is left in the wood.

Michael grins, and the Hothead does the same. Now they got everyone scared. The majority of the scouts in The Pit are ghost white. Quince hits the ball at a few kids and they just get out. They jump out of The Pit.

“Man, I ain’t tryna break my leg, man. They’s scary muh’erfuckers.” A kid says as he jumps out.

“Listen, man.” Another kid says. “457’s outta the picture, these Cali kids can break their streak. I know damn well I’m lettin’ ‘em do it.”

“You right.”

Both of the kids walk up to us and give us their best wishes for winning the tournament. We thank them and we continue to watch the game.

The Clipboard walks over to us and he says, “Y’know, if you boys want this game to be the last man standing I’m fine with it. I mean, you just won.”

Michael and the Hothead are cheering in The Pit.

“I’ll explain it to them.” Vin says.

“Yo, Hothead, Michael, you guys wanna try something fun?” Connor says.

“That’s what all the grown ups say to me.” Jack says.

Everyone lets out a small laugh.

“So, if you want to see who’s better, you can interlock hands and play that way. It’s difficult, considering that you can control the person, but they can control you. We’ll see who comes out the victor.” Vin explains.

“Huh?” Michael grunts.

Vin rubs the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

“Just, grab the other person’s hand and play that way. Just don’t lose your grip. Now go, I would like to see who comes out of this.”

“Okay, Vin. You’re the boss.” The Hothead says as he shakes Michael’s hand.

They scatter for the ball, trying to hurl it at each other’s feet.

“Hey, Vin. They got a name for this?” I ask.

“No, not really. I call it a friendly way to go, but there’s most likely a shorter name for it. It’s a great way to still play, even when you're up against your good friends.”

Michael and the Hothead are having a great time. They’re battling it out on each other, but they’re laughing.

Everyone is.

It’s good, everything’s good.

Campsite 5, 5:02 AM, Tuesday

Chapter 28

Hotheads

“Brian! Wake up!”

I jolt up. Vincent’s grabbing me by the shoulders.

“What? What the hell’s going on?” I say.

“We gotta go, now. There’s an altercation down at The Pit.”

“Are our guys in it?”

“I believe Quincy got roped in and he’s not leaving without a fight.”

“Goddamnit. Let me put a shirt on at least.”

“No! Come on! We gotta go!”

I grab a shirt from my bag and start running towards The Pit. My legs are sore and my vision’s blurry from getting up so fast. My slip-ons pound against the gravel and then the concrete. I see them. A swarm of scouts around The Pit. There’s no ball flying, only fists. Vin and I run up to The Pit to see everyone punching and kicking each other.

And Vin yells.

“HEY!”

Everyone stops.

Silence spreads throughout The Pit.

Everyone crowds to one side of The Pit, except several scouts. In unison, they point to the several scouts and say,

“They started it!”

A boy stands up and he’s wearing a shirt with an emblem bearing the name of Troop 457.

“They‘s the ones who started it!”

“You wanted to bash our heads in! You organized this fight!” A scout yells.

“Nuh uh!”

“Everyone just shut up!” I shout.

“You.” The 457 scout says.

“You were the one who got Leroy banished from this place. You were the one who glued him, you were the one who bashed Mr. Harrison’s head!”

“And you fuckers held a kid at knifepoint, trespassed our camp, nearly killed someone, and oh, what else? You fuckers probably do that every goddamn year.”

He’s lost for words. All of them are. They just look at me. And he charges at me. I go to punch him in the gut, but someone beats me to it.

Shellbuhrn.

He takes a hard punch to the gut, but he’s unphased. He shoves the kid away and he falls to the ground.

“Not in my camp. Not on my watch.”

Silence once again fills The Pit.

“I want the goddamn truth about what happened here.”

Scouts swarm around him to tell the truth, but he ignores every single one.

“I want him to tell me the truth.”

He points to a small scout, whimpering in a corner of The Pit.

“Well, sir. I can tell you what broke out, but…”

“Son, I assure you, nothing negative will happen to you if you tell me exactly what happened.”

“Why’dja pick him?” A scout yells.

“He’s young, and innocent. He’s not gonna lie.”

Everyone watches Shellbuhrn talk to the kid. We can’t hear them, they’re talking too quietly. Quincy walks over to us.

“Hey, guys.” He rubs his face.

“Quince, how the hell did ya get into this?”

“Well, I heard shouting down at The Pit. So I headed down and I got roped in.”

“Quincy, you can’t keep losing your cool. It’s not good for you or others.” Vin says.

Quincy stares at us and he just breaks down. His eyes water up and his face gets red.

“I can’t fucking do this anymore.”

He falls on Vincent. Vincent props him up and grabs him by the shoulders.

“It’s okay, Quincy. We can fix this.”

He hugs him. I think it's hard being someone like Vin. He’s got a lot of shit to deal with, especially other people’s shit. He’s the father figure some scouts don’t have. Quincy lost his dad in an earthquake in San Fran. It’s been hard for him, everything has. Everyone has their own problems and Vin helps whoever he can.

“Thank you, Vincent.”

“It’s what I do, Quincy.”

Vin sighs, and his face turns red. I realized something.

Liz was talking with Vin about something and that was secret. Something that was personal to Vin.

Who he was as a person.

Who he is.

I breathe in. “Vin, are you gay?”

Vin stares at me, shocked. His mouth is open, but no words come out. His face goes from red to white.

“How’d you know? Who told you?”

I was right.

“No one told me, Vin. Liz came here and said she wanted to talk to you. I’m assuming it was going to be about that?”

“Mhm. So what do you want? I’m gay, you got a problem?”

“Oh no, Vin. Not at all. I’m glad for you. I’m surprised how you deal with being at camps for days with just men.”

“It’s…kind of difficult.” He sighs.

“Hey, all you! Head back to your camps! Some of you need time to pack your bags.” Shellbuhrn shouts.

We walk back to camp, some tension in the air. Vin walks by my side, his arm still around Quince. There's something bad about this, something that will backfire, I can just feel it.

But now is not the time to worry.

“Let’s put this behind us.” I say.

“I agree, Brian, but what’re you gonna say to everyone about me?”

“I’ll leave that to you, Vin.”

The sun slowly rises from the horizon.

All’s good.

For now.