Chapter 9 - Fifty Dollars of Scotch

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Chapter 9 - Fifty Dollars of Scotch

I knew there was a good chance that Tara would get at least a little drunk and stay at Kala's uncle's place tonight, so I followed her on my bike instead of riding with her. That way I had the option to leave.

A short way down one of the winding county roads, we passed a small bar/diner named The Hook Up. It was less than cleverly adorned with the silhouette of a woman, like the kind you see on mud flaps, sitting on a fish hook. A sign in the window advertised cold beer and nightcrawlers.

We took a right at the The Hook Up and headed towards Mud Lake. The area consisted of fancy houses on what was essentially a private lake, since there was no convenient public access. The president of my dad's company lived out here. He had get togethers for his engineers and their families once in a while, so I had been swimming in the lake a couple of times. On one seemingly endless afternoon, I had also been subjected to ice fishing.

We circled the lake for a while, winding deeper into the woods, finally approaching a large house with a concrete lot instead of a driveway. The steps leading up to the house through the surrounding trees were concrete as well. The house itself looked like a giant log cabin. It appeared to be three stories, and had a two-car garage attached to it. I counted at least four chimneys. Another multi-vehicle garage that was set a short distance from the main house appeared to have enough living space above it to satisfy most normal families. On the lake was a large dock with a very nice boat house built next to it.

"Holy crud buckets," I said as Tara got out of her car and I put my helmet on the little lock. "This has to be a million dollar home."

"I told you, the dude is loaded." She bent over, using my bike's mirror to reapply some lipstick. "Apparently Kala is his favorite niece, so she can use his house whenever she wants for a party."

We started walking towards the house. The party was already going on, and looked like it had been all day. There were a couple of kegs on a large porch facing the lake, some kind of techno/rap music being played on speakers all over the house, and people from late teens to mid twenties scattered everywhere in groups talking, eating, swimming, and running around.

"Doesn't look too wild and crazy," I said. "Lots of people, though. Where did they all come from?"

"Everywhere. Kala told everyone they could bring whoever they wanted. Don't worry. It'll start getting crazy when night rolls around. Come on, I want to introduce you!"

She grabbed my hand and headed inside. The interior of the house was very modern, in contrast to the exterior. Large staircases and wide open areas, plus balconies on the second floor overlooking the spacious rooms below, gave the house the feel of a small, but nice, hotel.

"What does her uncle do?" I asked, speaking loudly to be heard over the music.

"He owns some kind of mineral rights legal thingy that works with mines and stuff. I don't know. I didn't understand it when she explained it to me," Tara yelled back, "but I know it has to do with mines."

We made it to a kitchen. It was packed with people. About half of them were mixing or pouring drinks, the rest seemed to be milling about. Tara grabbed a couple drinks some guy was mixing and handed me one. It looked like fruit punch. One of my rules is to never drink something I didn't pour myself. Besides, I don't like fruity drinks much. As we headed out the back door, I saw a cute, petite blonde holding a beer bottle with the cap still on. She was shaking her hand as if it hurt.

"It's a twist off," she shouted to her friend over the music and crowd noise, "but it hurts my hand!"

As I passed by, I took the bottle out of her hand, replaced it with the drink Tara had handed me, then kept walking. She looked surprised, but didn't argue. I was still wearing my leather jacket, boots, and gloves, which I've found makes people assume I'm tough. That's hilarious, but it lets me get away with stuff like switching drinks with random people.

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