A New Life - 1. Chapter 1: Life is Going to be Different

The desert seemed endless. Red sand was flashing by, broken only by the occasional thorny grey grass or desert scrub. Such a vast empty expanse. Barren, but a beautiful kind of barren, Blake mused.

“Where ya from?” the women asked. She spoke with a thick Aussie accent. The kind of accent Australian characters in some movie or sitcom would use. A walking stereotype, he thought, before rebuking himself for the nasty sentiment.

“Sydney,” he replied, almost shouting to be heard over the roar of the road flying by underneath the pickup she was driving.

This was the ‘Taxi’ service he had booked over the phone from the airport. A rather large woman in a four-door ute wearing a dirty, light blue shirt with the words ‘Kulibari Bay Adventures’ scrolled across the front and back.

She made some acknowledgement at his response, before reaching for a worn looking bottle rolling about on the seat between them. She had offered him a Coke from an esky earlier, but he had refused. He didn’t need the calories and she only brought soft drink for him.

The road was perfectly flat and straight for as far ahead as Blake could see. The shimmering heat from the sand and the asphalt road made a fuzzy horizon in every direction. They were travelling very fast now, yet it was hard to get the sense of moving. The way forward looked the same as the way back and aside from a gentle rocking motion the ute was almost motionless.

She opened a packet of mixed lollies next, juggling the steering wheel with her knees as they whizzed by. Blake was intensely uncomfortable as he watched her doing this.

“What some jellies?” she offered when she caught his glare.

Clearly she thought he was eyeing the food and not her driving antics.

“No that’s okay, I don’t need those,” he replied, pasting a fake smile onto his face.

She looked him up and down.

“But you’re skinny?”

Yeah, he thought bitterly, skinny by outback straight chick standards maybe. He was tired of arguing about it though, especially with women, so he said nothing and just smiled.

She didn’t seem very chatty after that and it was too noisy to speak much anyway. Besides, Blake was content to just sit back and take in the scenery. Such strange new surroundings.

Peering out the window, he guessed that if he had to walk for a bit, away from the road in any direction, he would probably be the first human being to ever have set foot there. Wherever ‘there’ was.

The West Coast was the real Australian outback. Vast, barren, dry and empty. Hot too. The sweltering, uncomfortable kind of hot.

“Where ya stayin?” she asked after a long while driving and it occurred to him that she probably thought he was here as just a tourist.

“On Kooyong Street, I’m renting a place there.”

“No way!” she exclaimed.

That got her attention. He had been told that Kulibari Bay wasn’t somewhere you could rent to live unless you had a job there. The local authorities weren’t keen on supporting a population in the middle of the desert. Only tourists and the people working to look after them could stay. The cost of getting water, electricity and other services out here was exorbitant. Apparently, developer permits limited the population to a few hundred, excluding visitors.

She laughed warmly and slapped him on the back, making him jump.

“Ha! Not often we get a new ‘local’ mate, Welcome to Kulibari Bay!” she smiled and, as if on cue, she took the first exit they had seen in the last hour and half of driving. The faded sign on the side of the road a few minutes later repeated her words: ‘Welcome to Kulibari Bay’.

“Name’s Kate, I work over at Kulibari Bay Adventures,” she announced, as if he hadn’t read the sign on the ute or her shirt or when he made the booking for that matter.

“Blake,” he responded, swatting at a fly buzzing incessantly about his face. The flies were different here. They didn’t seem to scare as easily and he had to be more vigorous about shooing them away. “I’m going to be working at the dive shop.”

“A competitor huh?” she winked, and then added “... nah just kidding, we don’t do diving, just cruises mostly. Only one dive shop in town. Only one of anything, really!”

“Yeah, I hear it’s a pretty small place?”

“Sure is, I’ll give you the tour huh? Won’t take five minutes,” she slowed the ute a little as they approached the town.

“That there,” she said, pointing to a dirt road, “leads to the desalination plant.”

He could make out a structure of some kind in the distance, but the heat and bright sunshine made it tricky to see much.

“Most of the water comes from the bore, but it’s too salty to drink, so the desal plant makes our fresh water. If you’re lucky, your place will have a special tap for drinking water but the rest of the tap water will be bore water. You can cook, clean and shower with it, but make sure to rinse with the fresh water or your stuff will rust or rot” she told him.

Blake felt a sinking feeling in his chest. He quickly tried to quash it, chiding himself for the lapse. Living here was going to be different and he badly wanted – badly needed – ‘different’. He would be roughing it by his usual standards, maybe, sure, but this was a fresh start. A whole new lease on life. He had to keep positive about it.

Who needs fresh water anyway? The salt would be good for his skin. He didn’t like his skin usually. It wasn’t for lack of attention on his part, but it never looked right no matter what he did or how many exfoliates or creams he used. Back home he used to have a suite of products that covered every inch of his bathroom. They were never enough though. Nothing ever was.

“Down that way is the motel and one of the caravan parks,” she said pointing in the direction of some grass and palms. The first bit of green he’d seen all day. Everywhere else the desert ended only where the sea began.

“There’s the mall,” Kate said, slowing as they passed the only brick structure he had seen in the little town. “The supermarket, post office, medical bay and tourist shops are in there, the dive shop too. Guess you’ll be working there.”

Blake wondered how you could fit all of that inside a space seemingly not much bigger than a couple of tennis courts. The ‘supermarket’ probably wouldn’t have much.

Wouldn’t stock low-carb food for sure, he thought morosely. Then briefly he felt that rising anxiety again, this time at the notion of gaining weight because of a bad diet. But he stopped himself once more, catching the negative self talk before it took hold of him.

Life was going to be different. Different was good.

Calmed in the way he had often practiced, he focused again on Kate’s tour.

“The other two caravan parks are that way, near the backpackers, and right up there near the water is the only resort, if you can call it that. The pub is attached.”

Just then, they came into view of the bay itself and Blake’s heart lifted. He sat up in his seat to get a better view, anxieties momentarily forgotten. The bay was so beautiful. White sand and crystal clear water, complimenting the bright sun and blue, blue sky. Tourists dotted about looking relaxed and carefree as they basked on the beach. Not many though, only a handful out here. Not like the crowded beaches of Sydney.

“Down there is the bay,” she said pointing again, “and that road there leads to the jetty.”

Blake couldn’t suppress a grin from spreading across his face as his mood continued to improve. He was going to be working in paradise. Other people would pay big money to get here from Europe or the US or even elsewhere in Australia, but he would wake up to this sight every morning and live every day here. This would be good for him. He had planned it this way. His psych had agreed when they talked it over not so long ago.

“Kooyong Street is up here. All the locals live round here,” she said, promptly finishing her little tour. “So, that’s it, pretty small huh?”

“It looks great,” he replied, and was happy to find that he was being truthful.

“So, how long are you here for?” she asked, slowing as they reached his address.

The question caught him off guard. He hadn’t really thought about what he was going to say about that. This was a small town and no doubt Kate would pass along whatever he said to others. He didn’t want to seem too transient or the locals wouldn’t take him seriously. But more than that, he really didn’t know the answer himself. This whole idea was a work in progress.

More an act of desperation really.

“Err ...” he stumbled, “... at least a year.” That was technically true he figured. Although quite what he would do afterwards was a mystery. “How long have you been here?” he asked trying to change the subject.

She killed the engine and gave him another one of her huge smiles. “Nearly 5 years now, met my husband here on a holiday and never left the place.”

He climbed out of the passenger side and surveyed his new home. It was slightly more than a caravan, but not much more. Four fibro walls under a tin roof. Still, it was better than most of the accommodation used by the locals and it had air-conditioning, something he had been insistent on. The one luxury he was not willing to give up.

He walked to the back of ute and helped Kate with his luggage. Three large bags now contained his whole life. Everything else was sold, given away or dumped at his parents place. It was healthy to get rid of all that ‘stuff’. None of it made him feel better about himself anyway. Often it made him feel worse. He didn’t need all that junk anymore. He just needed to practice the things his psych had taught him and remain open minded and thinking positively.

They carried his luggage over to the doorway and he turned to see her standing there expectantly. Was he supposed to invite her in? Get to know her? This was probably one of those places where everyone knew everyone and he didn’t want to come across as unfriendly, but having lived his whole life in a big impersonal city he wasn’t really sure what to do. He rarely bothered getting to know random strangers. He rarely bothered getting to know anybody. But was this woman destined to be just ‘anybody’ or was she someone he would be seeing a lot of around here?

In the end Blake decided that he really didn’t want company. He was beginning to feel anxious again. He had been travelling for some twelve hours now and was starting to feel unbalanced. ‘Unfriendly’ wasn’t a good impression to give, but ‘crazy’ would be worse.

The awkward moment soon passed and Kate, smiling warmly, told him where she lived and offered him help with whatever he needed to get settled. It seemed a bit over the top for a woman he didn’t know who was just the taxi service, but he thanked her before letting himself into is new home.

He took a deep calming breath and then opened his eyes. As he surveyed the interior, he felt that familiar feeling of panic, a tightening sensation in his chest. Was this all one huge mistake? Could he really live like this?

The place was clean and functional, but there was no plasma TV or game consol or dishwasher or any of the luxuries he had grown accustom to back home. But he wasn’t going to survive here if he carried on about these things like some prissy inner-city gay boy. He needed a change of thinking and living.

He wandered about the small home trying to think pragmatically.

There was a worn looking sofa and some basic furniture. The kitchen joined the living area, but there was a separate bedroom with a plain mattress and wardrobe. There was also a tiny bathroom with no bath, but a decent sized shower. The bathroom cabinet was small, he noted out of habit, but he didn’t need the space anymore. He had discarded most of his grooming products anyway.

Blake stopped then, suddenly, and frowned at the reflection of the tall young man with short, dark brown hair looking back at him. He pulled back his shoulders and firmed his stomach involuntarily as if posing for a photo. He started moving in a practiced, ritualised way. Front on, then, side on. Checking and studying his reflection. He did this without even noticing what he was doing until he glanced up to meet his own green eyes which narrowed with accusation and scorn.

He was going to have to do something about this mirror. He hated mirrors. He used to waste hours of his life in front of them. Checking, fixing, studying, hating and despairing. He would need it too though. He needed to check what he looked like before anyone saw him. He knew he couldn’t leave the house or invite someone in before he checked. Checking was vital. But he had to be ready to face what he looked like. He couldn’t just happen upon his reflection like this or it could lead to an hour or so of self defeating behaviour. Ritualised checking and the accompanying cycle of dark thoughts – shame and self loathing that would lead him to cancel plans or ring up work, sick.

He stood on the couch, unhooked the large rectangular mirror and rested it behind the back of the sofa. He then ran through some mental exercises, calming down enough to unpack and get himself halfway sorted.

This new life was definitely going to be different, but anything had to be better than how things had been back in Sydney.

Sydney was killing him.

Nearly had killed him, he remembered darkly.