Summary: The eruption of Vesuvius from the view of a Roman boy, and the view of an archeologist.

A/N: Co-written with my cousin. The last chapter, set in present-times.

July, 2006 AD

The streets of Pompeii were filled with the occasional tourist as David Hanegraaf and his classmates in Professor Ankerberg's history class wandered through the streets of the ancient Roman town. David had expected that the Italian History Organization (or whoever was in charge around here) to set aside a plot for them to actually get down and busy. But most of the town has been excavated. David was disappointed. Not that he had expected to find anything.

Professor Ankerberg, fat and grumpy, had their young Italian guide Adriano, whom they hired for the trip, to tell them about Pompeii. David already knew much of Pompeii. He had done extensive reading and research during the spring break. He had been waiting so long for this once-in-a-lifetime trip to Italy, land of the Caesars and the Pope.

They had seen plaster casts of victims of the eruption, covered in ash and goodness knows what. A man trying to get up; a lady, clutching her baby to her chest; a man, trying to flee. They could see the horrific expressions on their faces. There were dogs and cats and carts. Even a loaf of bread, half-eaten. They were all people once. Merchants and cooks and senators and farmers and blacksmiths and sandle-makers and whores and priests. Mothers and fathers and uncles and aunts and daughters and sons and nieces and nephews and babies. All covered, all dead, their flesh rotted away under their ashy blanket. A day in the Roman empire, frozen in time.

"When Giuseppe Fiorelli took charge of the excavations of Pompeii in 1860, there were occasional voids in the ash layer that contained human remains," said Adriano in his Italian accent. David knew the girls were swooning. "He realised that these were spaces left by decomposed bodies and devised a technique of injecting plaster into them, to recreate the forms of Vesuvius's victims perfectly. As you can see over there." He pointed to his left, where the shapes of a large number of people were frozen. One of them was leaning against the building's wall.

"Pompeii was initially found by a man named Fontana," Adriano went on. "He was digging a new course for the river Sarno, but it took more than 150 years before a serious campaign was started to unearth them. Some people have theorized, though without proof, that Fontana initially found some of the famous erotic frescoes and, due to the strict modesty prevalent during his time, reburied them in an attempt at archaeological censorship. You can see an example over here." Adriano gestured.

David started to laugh and hoot with the other boys. There was a picture of a Roman soldier with an exaggerated erection. Some of the girls squealed in disgust, while some of them muttered, "Imgaine screwing a guy with a dick the size of that!" Adriano, well identifying with the students, grinned. Professor Ankerberg, however, was not happy with the behaviour of his students. His brow depressed itself further.

David looked at the figure leaning against the wall again. He wondered if the figure had been rich or poor, free or slave. If he was a slave, who was he bound to? The group moved on, but David stayed. I'll catch up, he decided.

His eyes strayed to a smaller figure, near to the one on the wall. It was on the ground, its legs folded to its plaster chest as if writhing in agony. David decided, from shapes of what looked like folds of a toga, that it was a boy. A young boy. Maybe about Derek's -- his younger brother -- age. There was a hazy look of regret and remorse on his face. A look of sadness, someone close to tears.

What was the boy like? Maybe he was playful, like Derek. Maybe he hated his parents, and was forever trying to run away from home. Maybe he had feuds with his classmates, like David did when he was younger. Did he have any siblings? What did he like to eat?

"Hanegraaf!"

David looked up, wiping tears from his eyes. Professor Ankerberg was frowning, his arms folded. David took one last look at the figure on the ground before catching up with the rest.

"What did you think you were doing, Mr Hanegraaf?" Professor Ankerberg snapped. "Praying for the dead?"

David almost smiled as he caught up with group. They were just walking away from the temple. David didn't notice the ugly scrawl of childish words on the wall. He caught up and was just in time to hear Adriano begin a new topic.

"When Vesuvius erupted," he was saying, "the emperor of Rome was Titus Flavius Vespasianus. Suddenly, the people were fearful and angry. Omens like these were not good. People decided that the gods were angry with Titus, that he wasn't doing a good job as ruler of Rome. They believed that it was the wrath of the gods...

"Now right this way, you can see..."

The End