A New Life - 5. Chapter 5: Caught Out

The summer sun remained bright in the clear blue sky, but much lower by the time the boat arrived back at the jetty that afternoon. Weary but in good spirits, the tourists helped the crew pass empty cylinders and other gear from the boat to the jetty and then onto the trailer.

Once packed, everyone filed onto the bus, but as Blake approached, Jill placed her arm across the doorway to block him from boarding.

“Actually, today I want you to stay and help clean up,” she told him.

Blake was a little disappointed that he wasn’t heading back to rest, since he was feeling quiet tired by now. However, he was still in high spirits from a great afternoon out on the water. So, he didn’t even feel like complaining.

That was until ...

“Haze!” shouted Jill looking over his shoulder, “can you get Blake to help you? Show him what he has to do?”

Blake immediately felt himself tense. He was back to feeling awkward and nervous again. Just hearing Haze’s name was enough to have that effect on him.

It had definitely been different earlier that afternoon. During what Blake had come to think of as their ‘moment’. For that brief time, with not even a word exchanged between them, Blake felt he had shared something with Haze and it had been intensely gratifying. For whatever reason, Blake’s usual anxious, self-conscious dithering had made way for empathy, calm and action.

And it had felt great. He had been buzzing from it all afternoon.

However, now, as he turned to look at Haze, Blake was feeling the familiar sense of inadequacy sweeping back. A gnawing, self doubt and uncertainty was eating away at him from the inside. He half expected the blue-eyed boy to complain or to argue with Jill. Maybe even downright refuse to have anything to do with him, saying, ‘why do I always have to get stuck with him?’

“Sure,” was all Haze said in reality.

His words quickly cut through Blake’s panicky imagination leaving his green eyes blinking in surprise. Then he felt a little silly for the paranoid thinking and calmed down a bit. If only slightly. He was still not comfortable at the idea of being left alone with Haze.

Presently, the mini-bus pulled away leaving the two young men alone on the jetty.

Blake was aware of the chasm of space and silence between them. He felt he had to say something.

“So-“

“Can-“

They spoke at once and then both stopped. Blake was back to staring at his feet again, but when he glanced up he was surprised to see that Haze seemed almost as uncomfortable. Something was different about him. His mask was missing.

“You-“

“Why-“

They stopped again. This time Haze chuckled a little and Blake smiled, managing to keep his eyes level as he grew slightly more comfortable. At least Haze seemed nervous too.

Blake decided not to say anything so as to let Haze speak, but after a while he realised Haze must have had the same idea. So, he lifted his arm to his face and mimed zipping his mouth shut. Haze chuckled again, louder this time and Blake felt his face burn and his insides scramble with an uncomfortable kind of pleasure.

“I was just gonna ask if you’d seen dolphins before ... err ... you seemed, you know ...” he finished, ducking his head momentarily, eyes hidden beneath a curtain of dirty blonde hair.

“I’ve seen some,” Blake began, gradually feeling more confident as he spoke. They were talking now and talking suited Blake. He was generally quite good at it, when he wasn’t freaking out.

“I haven’t seen them working together like that before. That was amazing! You know, rounding up fish as a pack. Except on the discovery channel, maybe. I haven’t seen them diving either, from underwater, I mean.”

He knew he was babbling a bit, but was pleased to hear that his voice sounded firm.

“Oh I have,” smiled Haze.

It was the same kind of smile Blake had liked so much from before. Genuine and this time with a touch of personal pride too. It made Blake feel giddy.

“That would be awesome! I would love to go diving with them,” he replied, feeling himself blush a little.

“You can’t plan on diving with dolphins. They swim too fast and they go where they want. But sometimes they come near divers on their own. Not often.”

“But now I work here I will be diving heaps, I’m bound to see them eventually right?”

Haze shrugged.

“It’s rare mate. You were lucky to see them today, hunting like that from the boat. Even that is pretty rare.”

“Yeah, I kinda guessed that, I mean you must go out every day and you looked ...” but then he trailed off as he saw the genuine smile slip from Haze’s face, replaced by the carefully cultivated mask.

Blake immediately knew that he’d stuffed up and began mentally kicking himself for bringing that up. Reminding Haze that he had been ‘caught out’ earlier that day was stupid of him.

“Yeah,” was all Haze said flatly, tone neutral.

It’s strange how he could do that, Blake thought. Smile without really smiling. As if someone had explained to him how to move his face and he was just following instructions. But, Blake had seen the real thing now and wasn’t fooled by the imitation.

“I just meant-“

“Doesn’t matter,” Haze cut him off, “can you go turn that tap on?”

He pointed across the jetty to a rusty pipe with a hose attached. He then walked briskly over to the other end of the hose, seemingly to put as much distance between them as quickly as possible.

Blake was completely thrown by the sudden change in him. The fragile confidence he had only just begun to feel evaporated, swept aside by anxiety and nervous tension. He stumbled in the direction Haze had pointed, his inner critic mouthing off furiously inside his head.

‘What kind of idiot are you?’ it ranted mutinously. ‘Why did you say that for?’

Unsettled now, Blake tried to tap at his fingers. He did so surreptitiously, praying Haze wouldn’t notice and think him crazy.

‘Find out that you’re crazy you mean, it’s not like you aren’t,’ it sneered.

Blake took a deep breath and stuffed that voice back down. Not now, he thought pleadingly. Not here.

Haze was on the boat now, hosing down the deck. The water, streaming out under pressure, was loud against the metal floor making it impossible to speak.

Blake was uncomfortable with the lack of conversation. It left him to his thoughts. He wondered if Haze was doing this on purpose. To avoid talking?

The other boy had just started work without really explaining what they were doing and Blake just watched, awkwardly. Every minute that passed like this made him more and more uncomfortable.

After about ten minutes of watching Haze thoroughly hose down the boat, he made a motion to Blake and pointed to the tap again. Blake, grateful for something to do, quickly jogged over to shut it off. He then jogged back and joined Haze on the boat.

Haze handed him a garbage bag and told him to look for any rubbish while he did the dishes. He wasn’t even looking at Blake as he gave these instructions. He was focused and neutral again. Polite, even smiling, but detached and dispassionate.

Blake would’ve been disappointed, but he was growing more and more anxious, and now he just wanted to be alone. The day had been long and tiring and all these thoughts and feelings were taking a toll on his sanity. He just wanted this over with. Haze or no Haze he just wanted to be home, before he fell apart. He could tell it was going to happen and soon.

He shuffled about on the boat, picking up the odd bit of rubbish and struggling to keep himself together. It was while doing this that he inadvertently came across that mirror again, on the back of the cabin door.

He knew he really shouldn’t look at it. He should look away and keep as far away from reflections as possible. But he had been feeling tired and flaky. His control was slipping. The new job, the new home, everything was different. He was distracted. He couldn’t remember what he was supposed to do. He somehow wasn’t able to resist a quick check. And that was all it took.

It started as it often did. He just happened to notice something about the way he looked. Something about the way the unfamiliar baseball cap sat on his head. He didn’t wear a hat usually. It just went with the uniform. It didn’t feel right and that made him anxious. It gave him a bad feeling. He felt the overwhelming need to “check”, just to make sure. To bring himself peace. To make the bad feeling go away.

But it didn’t go away, it only got worse. He began to obsess. The more he looked the more he saw. The more he saw the worse he felt. The worse he felt the more he needed to check. Gradually the sights and sounds of the world around him dissolved and disappeared until there was nothing in the world but himself. He was alone, surrounded by a swirling cloud of thoughts and whispers. Telling him things. All the things that were wrong, everything that was wrong with him.

He was trapped now. A spiral of negativity whirled around inside his head. He forgot where he was. The garbage bag he had been holding dropped to the floor unnoticed.

He began to tremble and sweat, clawing at himself and whispering nonsense. He hated what he saw with such a vile passion that it made him physically sick. Waves of nausea passed over him. He was vaguely aware of what was happening and was desperate not to panic, but getting anxious over anxiety was never the way out. He knew that too, but he was too far along for clear thinking now.

Everything looked wrong. There was no feature from his hair to his feet that didn’t disgust him. His inner critic raved, but he wasn’t even coherent enough now to make sense of that voice. His entire body began to shake and then he was gasping.

Then suddenly the reflection was gone and in its place stood Haze. He had pushed open the door, on the back of which hung the mirror, and was now staring at Blake, worried.

“Are you okay?” he rushed to ask.

Blake was horrified. He just stood there trembling, arms tucked over his stomach as if to repel a punch. He looked at his feet and started to say something, except nothing but a gasp came out. Intense embarrassment mixed with loathing and panic. He was paralysed. He couldn’t speak.

This appeared to spur Haze into action. He crossed the short distance between them in an instant. He then put one hand on either side of Blake’s head and lifted it to eye level, peering into his eyes.

“What’s wrong? Did you get bitten? Show me the bite?”

Haze’s touch was electric and his face was so close that despite everything Blake couldn’t help but notice their lips were only inches apart. These strange feelings were too much for him and mixed in with the symptoms of panic they formed an overwhelming tangle of emotions. He tried to speak again, but just made a kind of choking, sobbing sound.

“You’re shaking and sweating and your pupils are dilated.”

Haze spoke with urgency, but his voice seemed distant and strangely unreal to Blake.

Haze removed his hands from Blake’s face and then traced them down one arm to take his wrist. He was trying to measure Blake’s pulse, but the sensations proved too much for Blake who finally snapped into action. He shook his arm violently out of the other’s grasp and backed away, falling onto a bench behind him.

His gasps began to make a hooping sound, propelling Haze forward and over him again. But Blake lifted his hand to signal ‘no’, and the other boy stopped his advance.

The rational part of Blake’s mind was finally kicking into action. He was practised at this. He knew what to do and could do it without even thinking. He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. He began to count, shutting out the rest of the world as he internally focused.

It wasn’t easy to do with someone there. His breath shuddered as he tried to slow and deepen its movement. Counting. Four seconds in, eight seconds out. Running through mental exercises, tapping on his fingers.

Blake was unsure how long he had been like that. It was always difficult to tell how long a panic attack lasted and what had happened afterwards. The mind records memories different in ‘flight mode’ and minutes could seem like hours. Things that happened could be forgotten and things that never happened could be imagined.

When Blake finally felt more himself again, he opened his eyes and was mortified to see Haze gawking back at him, wide-eyed and aghast. The sight was almost enough to send Blake backwards. Tumbling back into madness and despair. But his body was too tired for that now. He felt weak all over and too exhausted to panic again so soon.

He could still feel shame though. It saturated every cell in his body and he wanted to fall through the floor, to run away and never again face the beautiful blue-eyed young man in front of him.

“I’m okay,” he finally croaked, voice raw.

“What the fuck was that?” Haze exclaimed.

He had sworn at Blake last night too. That time it was in anger. This time it was different. Haze was not angry, he appeared worried.

“I’m okay,” Blake croaked again. Embarrassment so intense he nearly cried out aloud.

Haze made a move towards him, but stopped when Blake kicked off the floor wildly in the opposite direction, banging his head against the metal hull behind him.

Haze backed off again, holding his arms up high as if to surrender.

“Are you sick? Do I call a doctor?” he asked him urgently.

Blake just shook his head, rubbing at the bump he could feel forming on his skull.

Haze’s concern was making him feel worse. Blake knew he didn’t deserve this. He was not sick he was just insane, crazy. He was wasting Haze’s time, he didn’t deserve all this attention. It made him feel worse that he was making Haze worry. He just wanted him to stop.

“Do you want a drink or somthin?”

Blake didn’t want to be a bother, but he wanted Haze to leave, so he nodded.

He heard the young man tumble out of the cabin and onto the deck, grabbing one of the plastic mugs he must have just been washing and filling it with some of the remaining water from the tank. Haze then scrambled back into the cabin to find Blake, who was still sitting on the bench.

Blake’s back was against the wall and his legs were drawn up to his chest. He had his arms wrapped around his knees and his head rested on top. He was hiding his face, trying to hide his shame and embarrassment.

Haze gently motioned towards Blake with the cup and the green-eyed boy, feeling the other’s presence, raised his head so he could peer out over his knees. He then released his legs with one arm and took the cup shakily. He took a token sip before putting it down on the bench next to him.

“I’m okay,” he muttered for a third time.

“Blake,” Haze said, trying to get his attention.

Despite the circumstances Blake noted that it was the first time he had used his name. Hearing Haze say it made his insides churn in a way that was distinct from the shame and embarrassment he was otherwise feeling.

“Some venom, takes a while like–“

“It’s not that,” Blake croaked more forcefully, cutting him off before repeating again that he was fine.

All this attention was unbearable. He was not worth it. He wasn’t really sick, except maybe in the head.

“Mate, I’ve done first aid, you don’t look-“

“I know what it is,” Blake cut him off again.

It was agony being questioned like this. He hadn’t wanted Haze to find out he was crazy. Now Haze would want nothing more to do with him.

The young man gave him a puzzled look, as if to ask him to explain.

Blake didn’t want to say anything. It’s not as if Haze would, if their roles were reversed. Haze kept to himself what he was feeling so why should Blake have to confess anything? But the silence was making things worse, and Blake knew he had to say something.

“It happens, sometimes,” he said, slowly, pausing before he said each word. “It’s not often anymore ... sorry ... just recently again ... the new town ... new job ... moving here, I am outta practice ... it’s just ... sorry ... Look I am okay now. Thanks ... thanks for ... just thanks. And Sorry.”

He stopped talking then, unable to say anything more. He tucked his head behind his knees, curling into a ball. He was not sure if Haze had understood him, had understood a word of his babbling. He didn’t know whether his broken words would satisfy Haze or puzzle him more. He was too terrified to look at him. Terrified of what he might see, of what Haze would think of him.

But then a new and even more horrifying thought occurred to him. What if Haze told the others? What if his boss, Jill, found out? What if the whole town found out? Blake would soon be known as ‘that crazy guy’.

“Please ... ” he choked out the word before thinking and then stopped momentarily, feeling even more embarrassed upon hearing the tone of his voice.

He was so pathetic he didn’t deserve this, but he had to ask anyway.

“Please don’t ... don’t tell the others ... I don’t want everyone to know.”

It was hard to get the words out and he felt he had to stop now, before he did something worse. Like cry and make an even a bigger fool of himself.

Haze said nothing for a while and when the silence became too much for him, Blake risked raising his head to look at the other boy for the first time in a while.

He expected to see pity, disgust, anger, loathing, mockery or any one of a number of other horrible things he was feeling towards himself. Instead he thought he saw understanding. It was like when they were on the boat before, with the dolphins. A shared moment of empathy.

No, Blake thought again, it had to be his imagination.

Haze took an audible inhalation before finally speaking.

“Blake ...”

He said it again, said his name again. More softly this time, but it had the same effect on Blake as last time. Washing over him in a strangely terrifying, but pleasurable way.

“I won’t ... I mean I wouldn’t ...” he seemed to fumble for a moment, before choosing his next words carefully.

“I know how to keep a secret,” he finally finished, giving Blake a meaningful look.

Blake couldn’t meet the intensity of that look for long. He almost immediately shied away from it. He knew exactly what the young man meant though. He was striking a deal. Promising to remain silent about Blake’s disgusting, shameful insanity in exchange for silence about his own little secret. The drunken man at the bar the night before, whatever that had been about.

Blake nodded in his lap. He understood these things. Negotiations, deals, contracts. Implied threats. These were lawyerly things he was familiar with. It was a fair bargain too and much more than he deserved. He would take it.

“Okay, I-I w-won’t talk about that to anyone I-I s-swear,” he stuttered.

He raised his head again and gave Haze a serious look, to show him that he meant to keep his word.

But Haze only furrowed his brow in confusion, not seeming to understand what he meant for a moment. He then raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“No, I wasn’t talking about that ...” he stopped, as if to collect his thoughts.

“Mate, I ain’t threatening you. I wouldn’t say anything anyway. I just mean I know ...”

He stopped after that, looking frustrated and uncertain, words seeming to catch in his throat. He stared off into nothing and it seemed to Blake that he had ended whatever he was saying.

“I’m sorry,” Blake blurted out.

He was making this worse and worse. Why did he keep ruining everything?

“Why do you keep apologising?” Haze asked, sounding frustrated.

“I ... sorry ... I mean ... sorry,” it was involuntary, Blake couldn’t stop it. It just came out.

And now he was starting to shake again.

“You don’t –“ Haze cut himself short appearing to notice Blake’s increasingly rapid and shallow breathing. “No, no no. Don’t you be doing that again,” he said swiftly and his arm snatched out to rest a hand on Blake’s hunched and shaking shoulders.

The contact was like a bolt of electricity to Blake and it made him flinch. Haze must have felt that, or else he decided to remove his hand for some other reason. However, then he seemed to change his mind again, and the hand hovered awkwardly a few inches away, before finally settling back down on Blake’s shoulder.

Blake couldn’t move, the contact with his shoulder became the centre of his world. It was at once both calming and stimulating. Wonderful and terrifying.

“I’m okay, sorry” he croaked for the millionth time.

“Just ... stop talking for a bit,” said Haze. He didn’t seem angry, just unsure of himself.

Blake was about to mumble another apology, but managed to stop himself in time. Haze gradually moved to sit next to him, his hand rotating around so that it remained on Blake’s shoulder the whole time. Blake liked the feeling, but he could tell that Haze was uncomfortable with it. He probably found Blake repulsive to touch. Who wouldn’t?

The two sat side by side in silence for a while. Haze didn’t seem to want to speak, and Blake didn’t want to further ruin things by opening his mouth.

After what seemed like an age, Haze’s hand left the other boy’s shoulder slowly. Blake noticed that it seemed to hover there indecisively for a while, as if Haze didn’t quite know what to do with it. Blake knew the blue eyed boy didn’t really want to touch him. Why would he? Haze just felt obligated to, because he was scared of Blake going psycho on him again. He hated the thought of forcing him to do something that he didn’t want to do, and so he shifted away so that Haze could have an excuse not to have to touch him anymore.

Haze frowned strangely and then finally lowered his arm and rested it on his own thigh. There was another period of awkward silence.

“You know I never properly thanked you last night,” he said in a strange tone, peering around to look at Blake.

“It’s okay,” Blake answered in a soft hoarse voice, “... and I won’t say anything about your da-“

“He’s not my dad!”

The force of Haze’s voice made Blake jump.

“I’m sorry! I-I didn’t-“

He was doing it again, ruining everything. What was wrong with him?

“No, I ... I didn’t mean to shout,” Haze seemed frustrated more than angry.

“He just really isn’t my father. The DNA test ...” this last bit he seemed to blurt out accidently. He looked worried after saying it and paused for a moment.

“He really is not my father, I ... he ... look it doesn’t matter, I just don’t want anyone to know about it.”

Blake didn’t say anything for a moment, unsure whether he could trust anything that came out of his mouth. His curiosity was piqued of course. He brimmed with questions, despite the residual emotional trauma he was feeling. Why would Haze need a DNA test to know that?

But when Haze gave him a worried and uncertain look, Blake knew exactly what to say.

“I would not ... I will not tell a soul,” he said gravely, before adding “I know how to keep a secret too.”

Haze peered down his nose as if in scrutiny before nodding carefully, keeping contact with Blake’s green eyes the whole time. He seemed to want to say something more, but then he looked away, allowing his shaggy locks to fall and cover his face.

Silence fell between them. Blake couldn’t make out Haze’s face so he wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Not that he was ever sure of what Haze was thinking. As was his nature though Blake felt a pull to fill the silence, an overriding need to say something. But he was too unsure as to what to say. Almost everything that came out of his mouth was wrong. He didn’t want to ruin the moment again.

“So ... “ he finally ventured after the silence became too unbearable, “ ... what does ‘cleaning up’ mean that we haven’t done yet?” he asked in a lighter tone, gesturing about the room.

His words seemed to startle Haze out of deep thought. His blue eyes scanned around the cabin as if Blake had been pointing to something in particular. He then quickly seemed to gather his thoughts, and that same neutral mask began to descend over him.

“We’re done,” he said, before adding “... when ... you’re feeling okay.”

Blake was surprised to note that he was feeling better. He was still a little weak and emotionally drained. He was still feeling shame and anger at himself for all the stupid things he had done and said. But he did feel more or less stable now. The realisation reminded him about what a bother he was being to the other young man. The thought made him spring to his feet.

“I’m fine now, we can go when you like, I’m s-“ the look Haze gave him stifled the ‘sorry’ on the tip of his tongue. “I mean, we c-can ... we can go now if you like.”

Haze looked him over slowly and critically, but he said nothing and only nodded. He then stood, picking up the discarded garbage Blake had dropped earlier and moving towards the cabin door.

He didn’t leave though. Instead, he stopped in the doorway and turned towards Blake. He reached out his other hand as if to offer to help Blake up from the bench. He then dropped it again hesitating, before offering it once more.

Blake was too ashamed to accept the assistance, especially since he could see how hesitant Haze was in offering it. He knew Haze probably found the physical contact uncomfortable, so he pretended not to notice the offer. Instead, he got to his feet by himself, eyes lowered.

He could still see enough of Haze to notice him snatched back his hand seemingly embarrassed. The neutral mask waivered for a few seconds, but then in fell back into place, and all the expression on his face vanished.

Blake followed Haze out of the cabin and onto the jetty. They walked the 30 metres or so to the car park in silence. Haze walked towards the only car in the car park and got into the driver’s side. Blake dropped into the passenger seat and they drove back to the shop without saying a word.