A New Life - 7. Chapter 7: Real Haze

Later that morning, Blake sat on the cool concrete stairs out front of the Kulibari Bay Diving shop, sipping at a takeaway cup of coffee he’d just bought from the town’s cafe. He was still feeling a little hung over from the medication and was hoping some caffeine would help offset any lingering drowsiness. He really didn’t want his workmates to notice him acting any differently.

As he sat there he thought about Haze, trying to decide whether or not he should speak to him. Earlier that morning, he’d made the decision to distance himself from Haze. He’d also specifically made the decision not to revisit this decision.

However, all that had been before he had met Penelope on his walk along the beach. Before she had commented about Blake ‘helping’ Haze with the ‘troublemaker’ from the bar.

Blake felt he needed to tell Haze about what she’d said, to warn him somehow, but he wasn’t entirely sure yet whether this was the right thing to do.

For one thing, although Haze had made it pretty clear he didn’t want anyone to know about that night, Blake wasn’t entirely certain this rule extended to his own mother. Maybe she already knew? Maybe he had already told her? She seemed to know something, or had guessed at it if nothing else. Maybe Blake would be making an idiot of himself by warning Haze? Who ‘warns’ someone they’ve just met about their own mum? A crazy person, that’s who, and he’d done enough to earn that title already.

For another thing, assuming it was something he should tell Haze, how was he going to say it without looking like it had been him who had given it away? Maybe bringing it up at all would just make Haze angry and then he’d get the blame?

Of course, being honest with himself, there was another big reason he was reluctant to speak with Haze. After what had happened yesterday on the boat, he was terrified of facing him. Even at the best of times, Blake found he could barely manage to meet Haze’s striking blue eyes, let alone carry out a conversation with him. But now, on top of that, he was feeling incredibly embarrassed about acting so weird during his panic attack. He wasn’t sure he would even be capable of speaking to Haze or that Haze would want to speak with him. Maybe it was presumptuous to think that Haze would be interested in anything he had to say? What if Haze wanted nothing to do with him?

Yet another thing to consider, Haze was a pretty quiet person. He hadn’t once initiated a conversation with Blake, without it being work related. How would Blake even know if he was being ignored? Haze was always kind of ignoring everyone really.

Being the sort of anxious worrier that he was, Blake next found himself second guessing his motives.

Maybe he knew he should talk to Haze about what his mother had said and he was just looking for excuses not to because he was too afraid? On the other hand, maybe he knew he shouldn’t say anything and was just looking for excuses to have to speak to Haze because he was obsessing over him? Either seemed plausible. He was definitely obsessing.

He tried to put all of this out of his mind as he greeted Jill and helped her to open the shop. She wasn’t very chatty that morning though, so he found his thoughts drifting back to Haze again and again even though he promised himself he wouldn’t do this. Wouldn’t dwell over everything. Wouldn’t analyse every detail of a problem until he ended up even more confused than when he’d started.

‘Analysis paralysis’, his psych use to call it.

He couldn’t help it though and during the next twenty minutes he must have changed his mind over a dozen times. Yes he would tell Haze. No he wouldn’t. Maybe he would, but only later on, when they were on the boat. Maybe only if Haze was in a good mood? Maybe just ignore him as planned? Maybe only if he asked a question? Maybe talk to him, but not about what his mother had said? Maybe don’t talk to him because he’s forgotten about yesterday and talking to him would just remind him about what a freak you are?

It was ten minutes to eight when he glanced at the clock and realised that the others would be here soon. That Haze would be walking through that door at any moment. This made his already spinning head go into overdrive, thoughts buzzing around faster and faster. Maybe that coffee wasn’t such a good idea after all?

However, in the end, despite all the fretting and worrying over what he should do, when the time came the decision was made for him. The boy in question entered the shop, greeted Jill in his usual neutral tone and then made directly for Blake.

“Morning ... Blake,” he said, pausing between the two words. He ducked his head, briefly concealing his face behind the rim of his cap, before raising it again and giving Blake a small but genuine smile.

It had such an overwhelming effect on Blake that all his planning went right out the window in an instant. He completely forgot that ignoring Haze was even a possibility. All he could think about was how much he liked hearing Haze use his name and how much he liked seeing a real smile on his face.

“H-hi,” he stuttered nervously. He could feel a goofy, shy grin forming on his own face, so he stared downward and fidgeted with some imaginary bit of thread on his shorts.

They both just stood there for a moment, neither saying anything. Then Haze spun around to leave at almost the exact moment Blake had summoned the courage to say something.

“Huh?” Haze asked him, turning back expectantly after hearing Blake choke out half a word.

It occurred to Blake then that perhaps Haze didn’t want to walk away. He seemed eager to stay and to talk. For some reason, this insight was terrifying. Blake felt his heart in his throat and his palms begin to sweat. His normally over active mind suddenly went blank. He was incapacitated, every muscle in his body seemed to freeze and he could think of absolutely nothing to say.

“I forgot,” he said aloud, before realising he had opened his mouth.

“Forgot what?” Haze asked, looking puzzled.

There was another short pause as their eyes lingered on each other’s.

“Forgot what I was saying?”

He’d made it sound like a question and he winced upon hearing his own voice. He was acting like a complete weirdo again, just like yesterday. A familiar voice inside his head began its mutterings and soon a whirlwind of criticism and self-loathing was gnawing at his insides. He was such a fuck-up, loser, idiot ...

But then Haze’s laughter cut through all of that. It wasn’t a cruel laugh, it was a soft chuckle of genuine amusement. Pleasant and enticing, Blake found he was unable to listen to it and to the voice inside his head at the same time. Without making a decision, his ears chose to listen to Haze. The laughter making him smile sheepishly and forget all about his fears.

Haze found him funny. That somehow made everything alright.

“Space cadet ...” Haze managed between chuckles.

Blake decided, right then and there, that he did have something to say. He had to tell Haze about the meeting with his mother and what she’d said. He no longer felt there was any doubt about this.

But all too soon the opportunity was lost. Haze’s humour vanished in an instant, replaced by a dull bland smile and distant eyes.

“What are you two up to?”

This from a new girl, someone Blake hadn’t seen before although she was wearing the shop’s uniform. She was a tallish girl in her mid-thirties with short, dark-coloured hair and a Kiwi accent.

“Hi Vicky,” said Haze, greeting her as she walked over to them.

Blake immediately noticed the difference between this voice and the one Haze had been using earlier, between this smile and the way he was smiling before. Haze may outwardly appear to be friendly and engaged with Vicky right now, but Blake could tell this was actually just an act. In truth, he had completely withdrawn. At least, that was how Blake saw it.

“Vicky, Blake, Blake, Vicky,” said Haze, gesturing from one to the other.

“Hi Blake, great to have you onboard,” she said offering her hand.

“Thanks Vicky, it’s ... um ... great to be here,” he said distractedly, trying to shake her hand and study Haze at the same time. This proved a losing game though, so he did the polite thing and focused his attention on Vicky, since she was the one talking to him.

“How are you settling in?” she asked him.

“Great so far,” he said, thinking to himself how utterly untrue that was.

They chatted for a few minutes about the sorts of superficial things people chat about when they meet a new co-worker. Blake was distracted however, and found himself staring her tattoo instead of listening. It was some kind of fish, just above her left breast, peeking out from the unbuttoned top collar of her shirt. He wasn’t checking her out or anything it was just quite noticeable.

They were joined by another new colleague a few minutes later. A man who, like Vicky, was also in his mid-thirties, had short dark hair and spoke with a New Zealand accent. Blake correctly guessed he was her boyfriend Matt, the skipper, not that it was difficult to work out. They were very similar in look and mannerisms and had a distinct ‘couple’ feel to them. Standing in each other’s space and touching a lot, without seeming to notice they were doing it.

By the time Blake had a spare moment to look around, he discovered that Haze was missing. Quite when he disappeared Blake had no idea. It bothered him that he had missed his chance to speak to Haze. Any plan to ignore the striking young man seemed entirely ridiculous now. Part of him, the part that wasn’t terrified, really liked their conversation and wanted more. Not that you could call the handful of stuttered words he had managed a ‘conversation’ exactly.

Still, to Blake it felt a lot more real and worthwhile than the last few minutes of banal banter with Vicky and Matt. It’s not that he found them boring or bad people, it’s just that, being strangers, the conversation inevitably stuck to the mundane and clichéd. They were nowhere near as interesting to him as Haze was.

About this time, tiring of the New Zealand couple, Blake glanced at the clock and noticed it was almost 8.30 am. He thought it strange that no tourists had arrived and as if reading his thoughts, Jill approached them having just gotten off the phone. She told them that because of some last minute cancellations only two divers were showing up.

Vicky and Matt reacted with a sound, appearing to immediately understand the consequences of this, but Blake just gave her a blank look.

“Two divers won’t cover the fuel,” she explained to him. “With less than four, I’d cancel normally and give ya the day off, but ...”

She trailed off, nabbing Matt’s arm as he and Vicky began walking away from them.

“But! Today we are gonna go out anyway ...” she was now speaking at the New Zealand couple more than at Blake, “... because I want Blake in the water gettin to know the dive sites before we get busy again.”

She then stood on her toes to shout, “Haze get over here!” and waited until he joined the rest of them.

“So today this is what we’re gonna do,” she announced. “Matt, you’ll skipper. Vicky, you can take out the Dutch kid and her dad. She’s pretty young and both of em have only dived a few times so you’ll need to go over everythin. They speak good enough English.

“Haze, I want ya to buddy with Blake today and take him ‘round the sites, you should be able to fit in three dives since there won’t be many of ya and the dives will be shallow. Make sure ya check ya dive computer though and don’t go for a three if it says no.”

Blake tensed after hearing her say this, feeling nervous and anxious as usual at the mention of Haze, but also this time a little excited. The simple greeting Haze had given him that morning seemed to make all the difference. He found himself looking forward to the prospect of spending a day one-on-one with him.

He glanced smiling at Haze, but Haze’s attention was fixed firmly on Jill. If he’d had any reaction to being paired with Blake again today, he didn’t show it.

Blake found this unsettling. Doubts and insecurities began to creep back into his head. It was just so hard to know what Haze was thinking when he was like this, when he was acting so introverted. The absence of any visible reaction gave Blake’s obsessive mind ample opportunity to create scenarios of its own. To worry, to be fearful. To picture Haze savagely ridiculing or rejecting him, usually in some public fashion.

For now though, he turned his attention back to Jill who had just finished telling them the rest of the plans for the day. Jill would look after the shop herself. Carlos already had the day-off. Nats didn’t, at least not originally, but Jill had rung her earlier to offer her the day off when it looked like it wasn’t going to be busy and she’d jumped at the opportunity.

When Jill had finished her talk, Matt gave Vicky a peck on the cheek before leaving to prepare the boat. This left Vicky, Haze and Blake to gather their equipment from the back of the shop together.

While the three of them prepared and chatted, Blake noticed that it was Haze who behaved like the outsider even though he had obviously been working with Vicky for a long while. He would smile and nod whenever something was said, but he didn’t really offer anything of his own and he didn’t really seem ‘all there’.

Blake tried directly asking him a few hesitant questions, but although he answered them, his answers were brief and to the point. Haze did not seem to want to invite either conversation or company.

Despite finding this extremely disconcerting, Blake couldn’t forget a different kind of Haze voluntarily coming over to say good morning. He couldn’t wipe away the memory of Haze’s eagerness, of his bashful smile. These things were real, they had only just happened, not twenty minutes ago.

The problem, so far as Blake could ascertain, was that there were two distinct Hazes. The one in front of Blake now was the more common variety. He was quiet, aloof and detached. He had a friendly smile and a polite tone of voice, but it was just an act. Who knows what he was really thinking.

Then there was the rarer Haze who occasionally peeked out from behind this pretence. He was a far more authentic person, with real emotions, but trying to narrow down the traits and characteristics of this Haze was difficult. He seemed to be capable of any number of contradictory behaviours. He could be angry and aggressive as he had been that night after the bar, but he could also be caring and considerate, as he had been with Blake during his panic attack. This Haze could reduce Blake to a tangled mess of nerves with just a smile. He could also vanquish the darkest voices in his head with just a laugh.

Despite how unnerving and even terrifying this Haze could be, Blake wanted to get to know him more. He just couldn’t seem to figure out how to do that. ‘Real’ Haze didn’t seem to come out much. If there was one common theme to ‘real’ Haze it was that he was guarded and highly mistrustful. He was ready to disappear again at a moment’s notice. He was very wary of others.

This last thought startled Blake and he almost drop the equipment he had been carrying to the trailer. It had never occurred to him before now, but he suddenly realised that this Haze, the ‘real’ Haze, never came out when other people were around. In fact, other people were what generally sent him packing. So far, the only person he had been ‘real’ with was Blake.

The realisation made him excited and nervous, but he cautioned himself before he read too much into it. There had been extenuating circumstances on each occasion ‘real’ Haze had shown up. Hiding a drunken man posing as your father and dealing with Blake in the throes of a panic attack aren’t normal everyday situations. That day on the boat was different, but Haze hadn’t known Blake was watching him. Probably the only reason Blake had seen the other side of Haze at all was because he had crashed his way through, without invitation.

The Dutch duo finally arrived and Blake helped Vicky with selecting their hire-gear and getting them ready to leave. However, since it was Vicky who would be looking after them for most of the day, Blake decided he would focus on Haze, on trying to lure out ‘real’ Haze.

He sat right next to him on the mini-bus, despite there being enough space for more than twenty people. However, he was too nervous to start a conversation during the short trip to the jetty. Haze seemed to be pointedly ignoring him, lending credence to Blake’s paranoid fears about the blue-eyed boy actually hating him and so he remained silent all the way.

He didn’t get an opportunity when they arrived at the jetty either. There were so few of them today that it took much less time to load the boat and all too soon they had unmoored and were on their way.

Then, after Matt had finished giving the usual safety speech, Haze immediately disappeared. Blake caught only a glimpse of him as he headed off to the front of the boat, the same way Nats had done the day before. The front deck must be the crew’s favourite hangout, Blake figured. So, after dithering for a while about what he should do, he finally summoned up the courage to follow.

The boat’s square-shaped metal cabin separated the main deck at the back of the boat from the much smaller deck area at the front. Between the two there was a narrow walkway along the outer edge of the boat, with only just enough space to navigate by walking sideways. There were grab-rails to hold onto along the wall of the cabin and a tall metal railing behind to prevent anyone from falling backwards into the water should a wave cause them to lose balance.

Blake had climbed out onto the walkway and was edging around the cabin in this fashion when he caught a glimpse of Haze as he rounded the corner.

Haze was lying stretched out on the metal bench shirtless with his cap covering his face. He had rolled up his board shorts until they looked more like briefs, revealing to the sun and to a captivated Blake his tanned legs, shaped with muscle and lightly covered in pale blond hairs.

Blake felt himself blush and he immediately decided go back, all thoughts of speaking to Haze having now evaporated into nerves. However, his body was refusing to obey. His eyes were drawn to the captivating display as if they had a mind of their own. Blake hesitated. Then, noting that Haze’s face was covered by the cap, he decided it couldn’t hurt to have just a quick look.

He allowed his eyes to trace along the length of the young man’s lean body, appreciating every detail from the tangle of discoloured leather bracelets around his left ankle to the shaggy brown-blond hair cascading over either side of the bench at his head. He noted the slight tan line across his mid-thigh, the kind left by board shorts. He noted the trail of hair across his stomach, thickest around the lower ridges of his six pack, but then thinning out the further up Blake’s eyes travelled until finally disappearing altogether, somewhere in the valley of his chest. He noted the way Haze’s arms, stretched wide as he lay back with his hands behind his head, revealed a patch of darker hair at the centre of his arms pits.

Blake was completely infatuated by the sight and he absorbed every aspect of the young man’s physique until a stirring sensation in his shorts brought him crashing back to reality. Terrified of being caught, he tore his eyes away and quickly checked to see if anyone had seen him looking.

Matt was above him on the second level of the cabin, but he was concentrating on steering the boat. The others were not within sight.

Blake quickly retreated to the main deck at the rear of the boat, where he found Vicky, entertaining the tourists. No one seemed to notice as he jumped down from the walkway onto the deck, so he took a moment to breathe and to try to regain his composure.

He was a mess of nerves again. Images of Haze ran rampant around his head making him feel inadequate, self-conscious and even slightly sick.

He began thinking and then worrying about having to change into his wetsuit in front of the others. So, he decided to change now, before everyone else started to get ready. He discretely made for the cabin, careful not to close the door this time, so as to avoid the mirror.

Despite the difficulty involved in getting into the wetsuit the activity still only occupied him for a few minutes. Soon he was back on deck, still nervous, but now also uncomfortably hot in the rubbery thick material. It was making him sweat, which made him feel even worse.

After an agonising wait, Blake noticed a distinct change in the noise coming from the boat’s engines. Still loud, but now lower in pitch, the sound told him they had slowed. They were reaching shallower water and would soon be arriving.

Vicky had mustered the Dutch couple for a dive briefing around the table, leaving Blake to fret about whether he should be going over details with Haze. Should he go get him from up front?

Haze soon showed up on his own, however, gracefully swinging down from the walkway onto the main deck with ease. He appeared to be very comfortable moving around the boat. He was light on his feet and remained steady and upright despite the rocking of the waves. Unlike the others, he didn’t seem to make much use of the rails or handholds. His balance appeared to come naturally.

Haze’s graceful movements made him even more appealing to Blake, who couldn’t help but gawk as the young man stripped down to his Speedos and then gathered his wetsuit. Haze struggled to get into the skin tight fabric, mesmerising Blake with the way his muscles flexed and moved under tight tanned skin. Blake felt another stirring sensation and quickly averted his eyes worried that his own skin tight wetsuit would do nothing to hide an arousal.

Instead, he studiously focused on getting himself ready for the dive. He began by affixing his BC to a full tank of air, fastening the straps tightly to keep it in place. He then attached the regulators to the o-ring on top of the metal cylinder, opening the air valve by spinning the knob. He grabbed his mask, spraying some de-fogging agent onto the glass and then collected his fins and a weight belt.

At this point he risked a glance towards Haze and noticed that the young man was already ahead of him despite Blake’s head start. Although his tantalising body was now concealed by the wetsuit, Blake found him no less intriguing to examine. He noted that Haze’s hair was tied back with a dark rubber band of some kind, probably so as to prevent it getting tangled in his equipment. This revealed more of his bewitching face and also his ears which, Blake noted for the first time, were slightly small for his face, but otherwise just as perfect as every other feature.

Blake dropped his gaze and put the weight belt on around his waist. He then hauled the jacket of the BC over his shoulders, lifting it onto his back along with the metal air tank attached. The equipment was heavy and he nearly dropped everything when Haze appeared suddenly next to him.

“Ready to check me out, buddy?”

Blake could’ve been knocked over with a feather as he stood there blinking stupidly at Haze. But then his brain finished its review of what Haze had said and he realised his imagination was getting the better of him.

Diving was based on an international standard, ‘buddy’ being a universal term. Everyone had to dive in pairs and a person’s diving partner was called their ‘buddy’. It was the job of each and every diver to ‘check out’ his or her buddy before a dive. Meaning, to run over the standard list of checks to make sure the other diver hadn’t forgotten anything and was ready for the dive.

It was basic safety, that’s all. Nothing for his mind to get carried away with.

“Um ... y-yeah,” Blake managed to stutter.

Haze didn’t show any signs of noticing how strange Blake was acting, he just moved closer until they were only inches apart and began running his eyes over Blake. His hand reached out towards Blake’s crotch, making him flinch slightly and almost squeak with surprise. But of course Haze just took hold of the pressure gauge tucked under the strap at Blake’s waist and read from the dial.

“Air, 220,” he said in a mechanical tone of voice.

He dropped the gauge, hands next wandering up to the two BC straps across Blake’s upper waist and chest. He tugged each in turn to check they were taut and then lowered his hand again to point at the weight belt, looking to see that the release was right-handed.

Blake remained very still, trying hard to ignore how exhilarating he found all this attention. He knew he would have to do the same in a moment and he was determined not to make an idiot of himself in front of Haze.

Haze checked that the tap from the air cylinder was spun around as far as it could go and then back again half-a-turn. He then took the primary breathing regulator on Blake’s right side, held the mouthpiece close to his nose and released a quick burst of air to check both that it was flowing and also to smell for any contaminants. He then did the same with the bright yellow secondary regulator. Finally he followed the buoyancy hose until it met the jacket of the BC around Blake’s chest. He tapped the button briefly to pressurise and inflate the jacket and then held the other button to release.

“You’re good,” he said, finishing his checks. He then stood upright like a statue, inviting Blake to do his own checks.

Blake briefly scanned Haze’s blue eyes, but they were distant and revealed nothing. Haze was in his standard introverted state and Blake, as usual, found that this made him even more nervous.

He reached towards the pressure gauge at Haze’s waist, trying to pretend this was someone else, someone other than Haze. Maybe Nats like it had been yesterday?

Just imagine that you’re doing your checks on Nats, he told himself.

“A-air 210,” he said aloud, growing more worried at how nervous his voice sounded.

He then reached a trembling hand to Haze’s upper waist and chest, checking the tightness of the straps there.

“Don’t be so nervous mate, we aren’t gonna go deep today,” Haze said, apparently noticing how much Blake was shaking.

Blake’s concentration was ruined and his eyes snapped upwards to look at him.

“I’m not nervous,” he responded stubbornly, surprised at how angry and defiant he sounded.

Haze didn’t look convinced though and Blake’s resolve crumbled upon realising how stupid he must seem. Anyone could see that he was shaking, denying it sounded dumb.

“I mean diving doesn’t make me nervous,” he continued, defiance giving way to the usual awkwardness he exhibited around Haze. He felt happy with this clarification, but only for a few seconds, until he realised that he was only inviting further questions.

“So ... er ...” Haze seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then he continued to ask the obvious, “... why are you nervous then?”

Blake found he had no satisfactory answer for this question. He could hardly admit that it was Haze who was making him nervous. That he was so acutely attracted to Haze that his mere presence reduced him to a mess of nerves.

“I just... get that way ... sometimes ...” he said hesitantly, making up his answer as he went along.

What he was saying was actually pretty close to the truth and it probably wasn’t a good idea that he was saying it at all, but Blake felt a desperate need to steer the conversation clear of anything that would alert Haze to the attraction he felt for him. Anything had to be better than Haze finding out about that.

“Oh ...” Haze responded, a note of uncertainty arising in his own voice, “... you mean ... like yesterday?”

He put a special emphasis on the word ‘yesterday’, implying that he wasn’t referring to the day in general, but to something in particular about that day. To Blake’s panic attack, no doubt.

“No!” Blake responded quickly, again speaking before he had thought his answer through.

“I mean, well ... yeah, kinda, but ... nothing near as bad as that ... just ...” he paused struggling to think of what he wanted to say. “I’m just a nervous person I guess ... I always have been.”

Haze was silent for a while, seeming to absorb this answer and to be thinking on it.

This gave Blake’s anxious mind time to go over what had happened, to check for whether he had said anything wrong. He began to worry that he was sounding crazy again, that he had said too much, that Haze would think he was weird and would hate him. That he was about to start mocking him or deriding him or wanting to swap dive partners for someone that wasn’t a total freak, crazy, loser ...

“What makes you not nervous?”

Haze’s question startled Blake, stopping his obsessive mind from continuing with that train of thought. To his ears Haze had sounded sarcastic, but when he looked up to check he saw not a hint of malice or cruelty in those deep blue eyes. He saw something else, he wasn’t sure what it was, but it was something. It was emotion of some kind. It was like that day on the boat with the dolphins. It was ‘real’ Haze and this made him smile.

“Diving,” he answered honestly, suddenly feeling shy.

“Diving?” Haze’s eyebrow arched in surprise. Clearly, he was not expecting this answer. Diving generally made most people more nervous not less.

“Diving,” Blake said again, firmly, but softly.

Haze smiled a small but genuine smile, still managing to dazzle Blake with its brilliance.

“Met too,” he breathed softly.

Blake smiled back, ducking his head when he could no longer manage to meet Haze’s radiant expression. He was still feeling anxious, but it was a different kind of anxious now, the sort that almost made him want to laugh, albeit nervously. He was awkward and a little uncomfortable, but no longer obsessive or paranoid. He felt shy and coy, but also a thrilling sense of excitement.

“Well then,” Haze finally said, lifting his arms sideways, “finish checkin me out and let’s go dive.”

Blake smiled and nodded, grateful for something to do. He went about the remaining checks quickly but steadily, wracking his brains for something to say, for some way to keep them talking.

He knew he had to mention Haze’s mum at some stage, but when he glanced up and saw Haze’s animated smile and playful expression, he decided that he wouldn’t mention that right now.

Real Haze was here, and Blake didn’t want to risk saying anything that would make him go away. He wanted to go diving with him.