A New Life - 3. Chapter 3: Emotion Number Two

The ‘Kulibari Billabong’ was a small semi-outdoor bar with a few pool tables under thatched awnings and some plastic chairs and tables outside. There was no front door to speak of, as the entire side facing the bay was open. There was a proper bar inside though, with stools and some beer on tap. They even had low carb beer, Blake was delighted to discover. Only in the bottle though.

Blake had been chatting to Nats for a while now and was, for the most part, enjoying himself. He had been disappointed at first that Haze wasn’t here, being unable to get the guy out of his head. But he found Nats to be great company. Fun and easy to talk to, she was a naturally upbeat person whose good humour he found infectious.

He tried to keep talk about himself to a minimum, answering her questions about him only briefly. Instead he asked about the people who worked at the shop with them. He was hoping to learn more about Haze, but once he brought up a topic with Nats she was difficult to steer. She just said things as and when they occurred to her, darting about from topic to topic with no attention to structure. He often found himself having to stop her, to ask who she was talking about.

Jill was great once you knew her, apparently, but prone to stress fits like she was in today. It was better on those days to keep quiet and keep your head down. She wasn’t always like that, only when unexpected things happened or if things went wrong.

Vicky and Matt were a couple from New Zealand, working here for another six months before they went back home. Vicky was the shop’s dive instructor, and Jill was still trying to get accredited so she could fill that role once Vicky left. There had to be at least one ‘instructor’ level diver so that tourists could get their diving licences if they weren’t already licensed. Everyone else was at the ‘divemaster’ level.

Nats hadn’t gotten around to Haze yet, but unfortunately Blake was starting to think it was time to call it a night. Over the last twenty minutes or so, as she steadily drank more, she began to get flirty with him in a way that was freaking him out.

The inevitable question about whether he had a girlfriend was asked and Blake, being unprepared, just answered ‘no’.

It was a kind of truth. It’s not like he had to answer ‘never have and never will because I’m gay’. He didn’t feel obligated to out himself to her, it wasn’t really any of her business. Besides, it wasn’t as if he’d actually ever had a proper boyfriend before.

However, he regretted telling her ‘no’, as she began flirting more openly with him after that. It reminded him how awkward being silent or ambiguous about his sexuality had proven in the past. He’d go out with a girl, just like this. They would have a great time, she would get the wrong idea and then he would have to reject her in a way that usually left her feeling bad about herself. That generally meant they didn’t stay friends.

Blake really didn’t want a repeat of this, not least because the town was too small to be making enemies of anyone. Especially someone who was really nice like Nats. She didn’t deserve that.

However, he also hadn’t really thought yet about whether he wanted to be known as ‘the gay guy’ all over town. Or something worse than that. Probably behind his back. It wasn’t that he wanted to be secretive, but this was a small, very remote town. To tell anybody was to tell everybody. Especially if that ‘anybody’ was someone like Nats.

In the brief time he’d gotten to know her, he figured that she would not make a very good secret keeper. He imagined her blurting out that he liked boys and then comically covering her mouth with bulging, guilty eyes. She had already done something similar a couple of times that night about other people’s secrets. No one he knew, fortunately.

“So, what about Haze?” he asked after a pause, suddenly deciding it was too risky to wait until she got to him herself. At this rate she was either going to pass out or make a pass at him, and he would have to make an exit before Haze got a mention.

“Oh well Haze is royalty, you know?” she hiccupped, taking another sip of her beer.

“Yeah,” replied Blake dreamily, imagining the blue-eyed adonis in princely robes. Then he realised that she couldn’t mean it that way and that he had no idea what she was talking about.

“Huh?”

“He’s Mrs Herrington’s son,” she replied, as if that answered everything. Then after taking in his puzzled expression added, “... Mrs Herrington? Herrington Holdings?”

Seeing nothing she gasped in an exaggerated manner.

“They own just about all of the land this town stands on. Haven’t you seen their logo? On the Mall for a start? The resort, this bar? They’re rich! She was one of the people who made this place what it is.”

Wealthy and beautiful bemoaned Blake quietly to himself and he wondered then why Haze would work in a dive shop.

“Guess every girl in town has her eye on Haze, if his family owns the place?” he ventured.

Fingers crossed.

She rolled her eyes and for a moment he was worried that he hadn’t been subtle enough. That he was being too obvious in his interest and she had figured him out. He needn’t have worried though. Nats came across as friendly, but a bit naive.

“Ha, they might,” she slurred, “but his girlfriend Patricia,” she paused again to take a sip of her drink and Blake felt his heart sink and his hopes dashed at the dreaded word.

‘Girlfriend’.

Second worst word in the English language, after ‘wife’.

“... Patricia’s been his girl since they were two years old or somethin and he’s had eyes for no one else,” she declared loudly, making a little sweeping gesture with her hand and unsteadying herself in the process. “Other’s tried flirting with him, ‘specially while she’s been at uni, but he’s so loyal it’s disgusting – in a romantic kinda way.

“She’s also rich though so that might explain it. Family owns most of the land south west of here. Graziers. Old money, not like Mrs Herrington.”

Blake was taking in all of her rambling with intense interest. Despite figuring Haze for a straight-boy by now, he still found anything about him fascinating.

“-sides ...” she slurred leaning over “... pretty soon every gals gonna have their eye on someone else,” she winked at him suggestively “... better looking too!”

Blake immediately felt a hot surge of anger and bitterness run through him. Not having drunk much though, he was not tipsy enough to show his feelings openly. Nothing made him as angry as when people joked about his looks. Or was it hurt that he was feeling? It didn’t matter, it was a bad feeling and he knew she was lying. He studied his appearance obsessively every day, and worked at improvement where he could, but it was never enough. He compared and he analysed and he thought about it endlessly. How dare she joke about him?

Unless she was one of those crazy straight women that believed it true? Straight women had ridiculously low standards. What would they know about attractive guys? He was done arguing about it with them though. That never went well. It was best to internalise these feelings he had learnt.

Presently, there was a crash and some commotion towards the bar, and Blake was grateful for the diversion as Nats turned around to see.

A large shabbily dressed man, who had clearly drunk too much, was hanging from the bar, halfway to the floor. He was clinging to an unbalanced bar stool, though whether to stop it falling over or to stop him falling over was anyone’s guess. He was slurring something neither of them could make out really.

Something about seeing his son?

Nats had lost interest as the bigger of the bartenders arrived to haul the man away, but Blake wanted to keep the distraction.

“Who is that?” he asked, pointing to the man who was still ranting as he stumbled his way through the bar.

She shrugged. “Some drunk-arse tourist probably.”

The man was half lead, half dragged away and the distraction was over, but Blake was desperate not to pick up from where they had left off.

“How do you know that?” he asked, not really interested in the answer, but wanting to keep her attention away from himself.

“Because I’ve never seen him around before, duh ...” she replied as if it was obvious. “Not every tourist is a rich European or American. The local miners and farmers come out here to holiday too. He looks like a truckie or something,” she sounded scornful.

“Oh, so you’d know anyone who was not a tourist?” he asked, grinning cheekily.

“Actually,” Nats raised a finger in the air, again unbalancing herself a bit, “I would. If they’d been ‘ere more than a week, I’d know em. You’ve only been here a day after all,” she finished, rounding on him again.

He gulped at the inebriated hunger in her eyes and made a show of glancing at his watch and acting shocked at the time he saw there. She protested of course, telling him it was still early and demanding that he stay for ‘just one more’. He explained reasonably that he still had to unpack and didn’t want to be tired or late for his first day. Not that he hadn’t already unpacked, but she didn’t need to know that.

After a few minutes of complaining she eventually gave up. He offered to walk her home and was relieved when she said she would hang around for a bit. She was going to meet up with some of her friends. He had been worried that she would take his arm, or something more awkward than that, if he had to walk her home.

After another round of protests about her wanting him to meet her friends, Blake left promising they would have plenty of other nights to do so.

He had checked a map of the town before leaving that afternoon, and had planned to walk around the back of the bar. The front road circled the bay and would eventually get him home, but if he walked back behind the bar and cut through the resort buildings, it was quite a bit shorter to get home. Well, it looked that way on the map anyway.

It was finally night-time and the dark sky was alight with uncountable stars, a sight normally obscured by the lights of Sydney back home. There was a big moon and enough light from that and the odd garden lights about the resort to see where he was going.

After passing through the resort and aiming to cut between some utility buildings at the back, he heard a commotion again, and some loud angry whisperings.

It wasn’t that he intended to sneak up on them. He was simply walking the way he had memorised earlier and they were in his path. He didn’t want to go around them either, thinking it inappropriate to walk through where the resort guests were staying and also not sure that he would find his way home from there.

However, as he rounded the corner of the small brick structure, he found himself staring at them.

The man he recognised from the bar. He was still drunk and ranting. The other had his back to Blake and was dragging the man to his feet, trying to hush him in a harsh whisper. Not much could be seen of them from where Blake was. They were half in the orange glow of a nearby garden light and half in the moonlit darkness.

Blake found himself quickly darting around the corner and out of sight. Like some spy from a movie, he thought. He then immediately felt silly and wished he hadn’t done that. It was ridiculous for a start, but worse, now he either had to go back to the bar, climb the fence between the utility building and the caravan park or circle around and go through the bungalow accommodation of the resort. None of these ideas appealed to him.

So, instead, after waiting a few minutes until it sounded quieter he tried to act casual and then rounded the corner again so he could just pass by them normally. Without seeming like he was doing anything strange, he would just stalk past them quickly and ignore them, he decided.

However, moments later, he stopped dead in his tracks and started when he saw that – side on now and holding the drunken man against the wall to keep him on his feet – was Haze. They had shuffled across and were now fully lit by the garden light. It was unmistakably Haze.

His face was scrunched up and intense with anger. It was the first real emotion Blake had seen from the boy who had been so unreadable earlier that day. Even furious as he was though, he was still painfully beautiful.

But now Blake found himself trapped. Not wanting to turn back for a second time and not willing to interrupt what seemed like a private affair. He couldn’t make out whole sentences, but he heard the man crying ‘son’ so he guessed this was some awkward family moment. Best avoided.

His head darted around, looking for somewhere else to go. However, before he could decide what to do, Haze was suddenly facing him and then he was stalking across the short distance between them. Blake was rooted to the spot, eyes widening as Haze approached. It was as if he was going to hit him and Blake found himself flinching when the other boy finally stopped, right in his face.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” Haze half shouted and half whispered, seemingly unable to make up his mind whether he was being discrete or confrontational.

Blake was taken aback by this new side of the polite young man he had been drooling over all day.

“N-nothing, I was just ...” he fumbled, but was cut off.

“Fuck off then!” Haze ordered, blue eyes narrowing right in Blake’s face.

Had this been someone else, Blake might have at least protested. He was often insecure and anxious about a lot of things. But he could also be stubborn and quite assertive. Especially when he felt outraged, wronged or indignant. He was no good at standing up to attractive guys like Haze though, who flooded his mind with insecurities and doubts. So, instead he felt himself back away, like a child that had just been admonished by an angry parent.

“Hayden?”

They were interrupted. It was a voice, a women’s voice. It sounded out clearly in the night air, not too far away.

Haze’s arm shot out across Blake’s chest, pulling them both against the brick wall and out of sight. Out of the light. Haze then edged cautiously closer to the corner of the building. He tucked a shaggy lock behind his ear and stood still, listening intently.

Blake, on the other hand, could not move a muscle. His heart beat was racing as the warmth from Haze’s arm against his chest spread right through his body. The touch became the centre of his world. He was unable to decide whether the contact made him feel angry or delighted.

“Hayden!” came the voice again, more demanding this time.

Blake could see and even feel Haze shrink.

The drunken man propped up against the wall, who seemed to have been half asleep until now, made a moaning sound. Haze looked back at him mutinously. He stared right through Blake and then quickly glanced about as if to search for options. He then finally settled directly on Blake, appearing to make up his mind.

“Take him that way,” he ordered in a harsh whisper, pointing to the darkness behind the building.

Whether it was Haze’s harsh words or the tone of his voice or the beer Blake had drunk earlier, something caused Blake to snap at that point. Enough was enough.

He raised himself to his full height, eyes narrowed and chest puffed up to show that he meant business. He was bigger than this jerk and the spell of Haze’s beauty was now broken. He shoved the blue-eyed boy’s arm off him roughly and raised a finger to poke at his chest. He was ready to tell Haze just where to stick it, when Haze’s expression suddenly changed and Blake saw emotion number two.

It was fear. Haze was afraid. His eyes, though barely visible in the darkness, were wide and almost pleading. He then lowered his head as if in defeat and a curtain of shaggy hair came loose and covered his face.

The look he gave Blake acted like an entirely new spell. One ten times more potent than ‘angry Haze’. The young man was again powerless against the feelings running wild inside him, reduced to putty in less than a second. All the anger and defiance gone in an instant.

“Fine,” Blake grumbled.

Haze quickly lifted his head to give a quick, grateful nod, before he disappeared the way Blake had come before.

“Wassup?” Haze shouted out into the night as he ran off back towards the resort.

Blake could hear him talking to the women although he couldn’t make out what they were saying. She sounded pretty stern.

Blake then marched over to the drunken man and tried to lead him away in the direction Haze had indicated. The man was practically out of it by now, swaying and barely able to stay on his feet. He was mumbling quietly rather than ranting and so Blake just grabbed him by one arm and started to lead and tug him along.

“...Hayden ...” he whimpered occasionally as they went, his breath reeking of alcohol. It seemed strange to Blake to see such a big man behave like this. He had huge muscled arms covered in all sorts of tattoos.

“This way Mr ...” he stopped then, realising that he didn’t know either the man’s name or where he was taking him.

Mr Herrington was it?

“I want to see my son!” he suddenly bellowed, and Blake hushed him although he had no idea why he was doing that either.

“Haze ... ah ... Hayden will be back in a minute ... um ... sir,” he said, trying to sound reassuring.

Together they stumbled past some garbage and recycling bins and what looked like a water tank of some kind. Then they were lurching down a dirt driveway that joined the road behind the resort. Unfortunately at this point, the man’s legs gave way and he crumpled to the ground. He stayed there in the dirt, breathing but otherwise motionless.

Blake began to tug at his arm uselessly, but then stopped, feeling ridiculous. Where was he taking him anyway? To the man’s car? No, he clearly couldn’t drive. To his home? Nats had said he didn’t live here. To Haze’s home? And where would that be? To Blake’s own home? Not bloody likely.

After a moment or two of thought, Blake moved a few paces away and crouched down to sit on a low concrete block. He wiped the sweat off his face with the hem of his t-shirt and just waited.

It wasn’t long before he started thinking about Haze again. Or was it Hayden now? Everything about the young man fascinated him and the strange events of the last twenty minutes gave his obsessive mind ample material to dwell upon.

Was Hayden the silent, internalising angry type? He had certainly shown a lot of anger tonight, but everyone gets angry sometimes. Blake had only met him today, maybe he was just having a bad day? Or maybe he behaved differently at work from outside of work? That was pretty normal for most people. Jill had said he was quiet though. Did she not know better? Even in this small town? Or was tonight a unique or unusual circumstance for Hayden?

What was he so worried about before? He seemed genuinely afraid. Maybe he didn’t want whoever it was to find out that his dad was drunk?

Except, thinking about it now, the man didn’t look very well off and Hayden’s parents were suppose to be rich. At least Nats had said so. Although actually, recalling the conversation more accurately, he remembered that she had only mentioned Hayden’s mother. She hadn’t said anything about his father. Maybe they weren’t together?

Blake thought like a lawyer, piecing together facts, being precise about what he knew and didn’t know, assuming nothing. He enjoyed figuring out puzzles, especially ones that involved a sexy guy like Hayden.

However, he was starting to get restless now and he glanced at his watch, fidgeting. How long had he been waiting? How long should he wait? The man was in a heap, snoring loudly.

Blake was still trying to decide how long he should wait before giving up, when a movement in the darkness caught his eye. It was Hayden coming, not from the resort, but from down the street. He was panting and Blake figured that he must have run around half the bay to get here from this direction. He stalked intently over to the man.

Blake stood to greet him and Hayden spun around suddenly, startled, having not seen him crouching in the dark on the side of the driveway. He quickly pulled himself together though, before turning his attention back to the man lying in the dirt driveway.

Blake approached them hesitantly and then just stood there, ignored, while Hayden crouched over and tried to rouse the unconscious man.

Blake noticed that Hayden seemed different. Gone from his features were the vivid emotions from before, replaced instead by what seemed to be a carefully cultivated mask. He was still frowning, but it was impassive and dispassionate compared to earlier.

Blake started to feel awkward just standing there. He didn’t like silences, so he felt he had to say something.

“Hayden I ...”

“It’s Haze,” the blue-eyed boy cut him off, sharply, but with far less open hostility than before.

There was another pause before Blake tried to speak again.

“C-can I help with your dad?”

Haze spun around still crouching and hushed him loudly.

“Shh! He’s not my father, don’t say that!”

The mask was gone once more and he was back to ‘angry Haze’. Still gorgeous, but surly and scowling.

The change allowed Blake to regain some of the indignity and defiance he felt before.

“Well he sure seemed to think so,” he quipped under his breath.

Haze stood up at that, looking more furious than ever.

“Well he’s not,” he said, pointing threateningly at Blake.

“Don’t you go ‘round here sayin stuff like that, you hear?”

Blake narrowed his green eyes defiantly, but said nothing. He made sure to be ambiguous on the point, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

“What are you going to do with ... with him then?” he asked pointing to the heap on the ground.

“My problem,” was all he said about that, “you can ...” he stopped hesitating for a moment. It seemed to Blake that he was about to say something else, but had then thought better of it.

“Thanks n’ all, but, you can go now,” was all he eventually said, after a pause.

Blake noticed the change again. The neutral voice and expressionless face. Haze had shut down again and Blake soon found himself ignored once more as Haze hunched over the man, slapping at his cheek and trying to get him to wake up.

Blake considered his options, but as fascinating as Haze was, the guy had made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want Blake around. Blake wasn’t going to endear himself to Haze if he stayed, so he decided he wouldn’t.

“Good luck mate,” he said finally, and without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked down the remainder of the dirt driveway and onto the road.

He managed to get that far without looking back, but when Haze had said nothing he couldn’t help glancing around one more time. He thought he saw Haze suddenly look away, as if he had been watching him leave, but he wasn’t sure. In the poor light it was hard to tell.