Chapter 62: Everyone can be invited in a party
Chatterbox finally convinces them to relax and to participate.
People gather in a circle, holding each other's shoulders.
Charlie, that's the name Dust chooses for the man with black and white hair, encourages them.
His loud voice manages to drown out all the others "On three, let's go!"
Laughing, he looks at the improvised guitarist and adds "Something a little more rhythmic please!".
The musician nod according his instrument.
Following his example, the group that fills almost the entire room counts with him:
-ONE! TWO! THREE!
Dust remembers the swamp. Him in the mist counting down the seconds before joining the carnage at the lake.
Then the crowd gets moving. At first he goes around in circles at a manageable speed, then it speeds up.
The fingers of the guitarist touch the strings with speed, the notes vibrate all over the room and succeed in being heard even with all the surrounding noises.
On his left, there's Chatterbox who seems to be enjoying the moment a lot, and on his right, there's a stranger he doesn't recognize.
Everything is a bit surreal.
The world rocks around him like a boat carried by the waves.
Their arms linked together, they dance in a circle faster and faster. Laughter bursts forth.
The one on his right turns his head in his direction, offering him a funny thing.
Like a colorful hood.
-Do you want some?
Dust stutters to answer him and remind the individual of the essential:
-We c-can't eat here.
The other smiles, his lips a bit crooked and with sweat on his temples.
-Don't worry! (he yells to be heard among the laughter) It's not from here, I brought it back from one of these damn worlds! With that you'll get high as hell!
He moves his hand a little further towards Dust's mouth then gets dragged by the others into the crazy round.
He pulls on the boy's arm in turn to continue convincing him.
The rhythm of the dance accelerates.
-We've already had several and nothing happened! Try the mushroom!
The man's fingers almost hit Dust's lips, who ends up freeing his arm to take the "mushroom".
The man watches him swallow the piece, then tilts his head back to laugh before taking his arm again to continue dancing.
The thing has no taste and is quickly swallowed.
The world is still swaying around Dust.
From right to left and vice versa.
but also from top to bottom and from bottom to top.
He is pulled in all directions. He follows the movement like a puppet.
Is it the people who dance faster or Dust?
Laughter and screams follow one another.
It is the atmosphere of a housewarming party by the light of countless candles.
The time that passes is abstract.
Dust follows Red's philosophy.
He's having fun, he's even having a blast.
He's never been so relaxed before.
He no longer has any anxiety, stress or fear. All his emotions are drowned by a chemical euphoria that gives him the impression of being liberated.
He exchanges a few words with strangers without worrying whether or not they understand, without worrying about their judgments. At his side Chatterbox explain something about how he need to stay next to Charlie at the next world. That like that they will all be safe. Dust doesn't understand even half of what she said. He just repeat yes every 2 minutes to make her happy.
He laughs until his stomach hurts for no reason.
He takes another drink of wine, he drinks it in one go as if it were shots.
The red liquid runs down his cheeks, rosy with alcohol, which mixes with his sweat and stains his white shirt.
The guitar is barely audible now even with all the energy the musician pour in it. Everyone is having fun hitting the ground in rhythm.
3 turns in a circle around the table then Pony or Grumpy screams and the rest advances like a tide to hit the floor with their right foot then retreats to hit the left foot. the process is repeated 3 times as well and then it continues.
Someone, who could be the man with the lumberjack look but Dust is not sure, starts singing a vulgar song. His voice as thunderous as a tenor.
The rest follows the movement and repeats his words in chorus:
-6 little turns for the deaf~
Dust also participates they all scream at the top of their lungs without worrying about the notes:
-6 LITTLE TOURS FOR THE DEAF!!!
The big man continues:
-5 ladies jumped around~
-5 LADIES JUMPED AROUND!!!
The boy has the feeling of an uneasy déjà vu. It reminds him of the swamp and the child's song.
But the mushroom or the wine chases away the bad memory immediately.
- 4 tickets lost rue de bouic
-4 LOST TICKETS ...!!
Dust does not understand the rest, he repeats mechanically.
At one point, laughing, Pony exclaims:
- IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION!
And everyone turns in the opposite direction.
Quickly, when they drum the ground, Dust takes another glass, he drinks without even tasting the wine.
His throat is warmed by the liquid.
The guy is right, he is totally high.
Dust sketches a blissful smile, his gaze getting lost on the blurred faces of his companions.
He would give anything not to leave this state. He is not sure that there will be enough wine.
He is terribly hot.
1 foot to the right to the left and so on. He mixes everything up.
He lowers his head and notices that his shirt is now more red than white.
He doesn't know if it's wine or blood.
He stumbles to the ground, two or three are dragged down by his fall.
They laugh together, get up and continue dancing but not Dust .
Dust gets up with difficulty, holding on to the walls so as not to fall a second time. His other hand lifts the wet shirt pressed against his chest so that he can sniff it.
He can't smell it properly. He sticks out his tongue and licks it.
He concludes that it's probably not blood.
But now he's too hot, he's really too hot.
Like a thief, he takes an entire bottle of wine already opened and ready just for him.
He looks at those who are singing with enthusiasm.
More and more of them fall to the ground.
Some of them are completely out of it, slumped on the chairs.
A thought crosses Dust's numb mind:
Are they falling asleep??? Wasn't it safe to drink the wine? Are they going to find themselves transported somewhere else?
He flees the room, drinking the bottle of wine from the neck.
He lurches, hitting the wall to his right then the wall to his left with his shoulders.
Another gulp finds him facing the large doors.
He thinks his head hurts.
In any case, he feels dizzy.
He looks at the huge doors.
He can no longer hear the wind, the noise being drowned out by the din of the dining room.
He puts his hand on the latch to open it, to get some fresh air.
But he can't do it.
He tries, insists frantically then thinks.
He drinks another shot then a second.
He hits the door with rage.
A single punch that against the thick wood sounds as if he had knocked. Without the alcohol his hand would probably hurt.
He chuckles the next second. The stupidity of the action hits him full on.
However, he quickly straightens up when he hears someone knocking... on the other side.
-Is... someone there?
His voice starts to tremble again.
One hand holds the neck of his bottle, the other grabs the handle of his knife under his shirt.
He receives no vocal response
But on the other side, someone knocks a second time at the door.
Dust is as if frozen. Is he hallucinating?
Fear keeps his lips sealed.
For more courage, he drinks again.
The wine is already almost empty.
He stares at the door while slowly backing away.
He dreamed, right?
It occurs to him that they can't get out, but maybe what's outside... can get in?