Dionysia

8

A loud, stinging sound rang through Denny's ears again, reminiscent of his traumatic day at Blazen Materials. Yet, the sound felt more ordeal, a normalized reminder that things were coming close to routine now. As Denny looked up to the sun, he listened to Carter barking at one of their coworkers, who was standing too close to the loading crane.

Work had started at their construction site, called Marcotte Construction Co., a larger conglomerate company in the heart of Metairie. It'd taken a couple weeks for Denny to get used to everything, his new job, a new city, and driving back and forth on tugboat from Metairie to their ranch in Westwego. At first, he was bombarded greatly, not having much time to deal with the business. Most times, he'd hop right into bed after work, not even thinking of coming into contact with Caroline and Freddie.

But things were consistent now, an order Denny hadn't felt for a long time. He even was able to communicate with his best friend Carter, even after he and his family moved to Metairie not long ago. All in all, Denny was lucky to have this job, even if it was tiring for his body after a drive across the Mississippi with the tugboat.

Of course, he'd been able to take care of the marina whenever he could, as Louis decided to keep it running for the time being. This allowed Denny to use the marina for other purposes, making sure to tell his parents everything besides the business. Sure, he was keeping a secret from them, but it was necessary for the plan. How else would they feel that he was back to doing dangerous things again, risking his future for money?

Sometimes, it feels pointless, he heard the plantation voices call out again. Why the fuck are you even doing this? Just give up and keep this job; stay away from the shit on the ground.

Aren't you supposed to tell me to keep doing it? For my inner side, the part I don't show others? Why are you telling me to stop?

I'm not, one voice said, similar to Carter's. I'm telling you-

"That there's a party we gotta crash!" Carter told Denny, as he gained his senses and came back to reality. Carter was standing beside him, rambling on about Halloween at Tulane.

"Seriously, dude, it's gonna be crazy dis year," Carter continued, as they marked off routine duties from their clipboards.

Denny noticed his construction advisor watching him closely, whom Mister McFarland recommended for the job. All the guy did was observe Denny's every move, not saying a word, stuffing tons and tons of onion rings into his plump stomach. It was intrusive, but Denny didn't mind too much since he was able to keep the job this way.

"I'm in, man," Denny responded, fist-bumping Carter as they headed towards the breakroom for the end of their shift. "I know a guy who knows the frats there, see if we can let ya in easy. Rumor has it there's gonna be bomb shit to drink dere."

Carter fixed the part in his hair, intrigued by Denny's remark. Sure, he may have said a bit too much about their business, but this was Denny's best friend. Why shouldn't he involve Carter to grab some of their drinks, maybe even take Harper to Halloween? Even though she had school now, experiencing a party at Tulane once was a must. The two major festivals were Halloween and Mardi Gras, but that was farther away, and Denny didn't have that much time.

It needed to happen soon.

First, we need to make waves this weekend, Denny said to himself, waiting far too long. We need to make this drink popular enough for Halloween, an occasion where most o' our money may come in.

"Where?" Carter asked as they stuffed their work vests into their lockers. "And how do you know, bra? I thought I was the party guy!"

Zeta Psi, Denny repeated, getting a text from Freddie not too long ago. Apparently, this was the fraternity that Freddie trusted the most, the one who would host their "Swampwater Special" starting this Friday night.