A Long List of Nevers - 1. Chapter 1

A few minutes earlier:

Keith slumped over the table, nestling his chin comfortably in the crook of his elbow. He stared out glumly at the bonfire down on the beach. The sun was still just below the horizon and the whole western sky was a gradient of reds and dark blues, the swells of the incoming tide a soft glowing green with the bodies of billions of tiny plankton floating in them. Combined with the warm orange glare of the fire and the stars slowly creeping into the eastern sky, it was a breathtakingly beautiful night to be outside… but Keith wasn’t in the mood for it.

The Midsummer Festival – the whole island of Cronek was outlined by bonfires along its coastline tonight. It was one of the annual events that the islanders observed faithfully. Allegedly handed down from the original Cornish settlers, despite the fact that the current celebrations were more an excuse to get rotten and get rooted than anything else. It also didn’t seem to bother anybody either that the ‘midsummer’ festival was actually in the middle of winter here in Western Australia; albeit a fairly tropical one, Cronek being just off the coast north of Shark Bay.

Keith didn’t mind that though. He actually enjoyed the dozens of inane little celebrations his fellow islanders concoct throughout the year for the benefit of the tourists (like Banana Day or Open a Coconut by Yourself Day). Every one of them were hilariously fun except for this and Valentines, they were the two events in which everyone is expected to pair off romantically with someone else at the end of the celebrations. And that was one thing Keith had long given up on.

Keith wasn’t the only single adult in the island, but everybody else seems to have no problems charming the tourists every season (sometimes permanently) to keep them company. Keith had never had any luck with that even in high school and university. He thought it was because he tended to keep his nose in a book all the time. When he came back here after graduation, a year and a half ago, he thought his luck would change once he got uni behind him.

Yeah, right. The one and only time Keith had gathered enough courage to talk to a tourist in the small gay pub in town, the guy had literally squirmed in his seat in discomfort; finally abandoning him awkwardly when a gorgeous American tourist entered the bar. Warren (Wazza) and Pat, the owners of the pub, the hosts of tonight’s party, and good friends of Keith’s had ignored both of them pointedly until they finally left. That actually only made it worse for Keith - knowing that his oldest friends are aware of his own loneliness.

To make a long story short, Keith would have given anything to be home tonight rather than here. ‘Here’ being Wazza and Pat’s little Midsummer mixer party that he always hosts at his little beach house for Cronek’s LGBT population. Aside from having to endure watching people pair off but him, the beach house was kilometres away from town. Having no car, he couldn’t leave when he wanted to. Speaking of which he still had to ask which of his friends were going home early tonight so he could get a ride. But yeah, mixer party = lots of mooching; lots of mooching made Keith ache all the more from his apparent curse of being alone all his life.

But Keith had to come tonight. He needed a job badly. His former employer had gone off and married a mainlander, closing down the little souvenir shop he had worked in. Wazza had called him up earlier and told him he had found him a job… on one condition: he had to be at this party.

So here he was.

“Burble.” Keith muttered as he watched his friend Tony pashing with a hunky mainlander near the largest bonfire. They’d been at it for an hour now.

“Keith!” Keith lifted his head from his arms and saw Wazza threading his way to his table.

“Bastard.” Keith greeted as soon as he was within earshot.

Wazza laughed. “C’mon, kid. It’s not that bad is it?”

Keith didn’t even bother answering, he just stared daggers at the older man.

“Whoa whoa.” Wazza backed off playfully. “I did ya a favor, remember? Anyway, ‘bout that job I got you...” Wazza rummaged through his shirt pocket and plucked out a card. He held it out to Keith with a self-satisfied expression.

“Better be paying in gold if I had to endure a night of this for that.” Keith glared as he took the card. “Cronek Bookstore.” He read out loud. “I didn’t even know the island had a bookstore.”

“We didn’t. Owner just moved in here. Bought the shop you used to work in and all. Pay’s 40 an hour, 7 hours Mondays to Saturdays, 1 to 8 in the arvo; be there Saturday.”

“Okay. Thanks Wazza.” Keith flashed a genuinely affectionate grin at him before scowling again. “Can I – “

“No you can’t leave yet.” Wazza cut him off, chuckling. “That’d be cheating, mate.”

“I hate you.” Keith sighed heavily. Wazza just laughed and pulled him into a quick hug.

“I gotta get back inside, but listen.” Wazza clapped his shoulder. “Go meet someone, okay?”

Keith just shrugged and looked away.

“Hey Keith.” Keith glanced up to see his friend Katrina slide into the seat next to them. She was barefoot, dripping wet, and judging from her flushed cheeks, had been having her fair share of pashing tonight as well. “Hey Uncle Wazza.”

“Hey Kat.” Keith murmured and went back to staring at the darkening horizon.

“Hey Kat.” Wazza patted her on the head. “Make sure sunshine here meets someone, okay?”

“I’d have better luck teaching a shark to sing.”

Wazza chuckled as he headed back inside.

“You eating that?” Kat pointed at the plateful of banana fritters someone had shoved at Keith a while ago despite his protests of not being hungry.

“No.”

Kat grabbed it and took a bite out of one. “It’s not poisoned or anything is it?” She asked playfully.

“Nope.”

“Not very chatty tonight are we?”

“Nope”

“Bah, Keith. Get out down there.” She waved a half eaten fritter at the crowd on the beach. “Meet someone, lots of cute tourists here tonight.”

“No thanks.”

Kat sighed in frustration. “Fine! I’m just gonna go ahead and find a shark to teach then!” She picked up the plate of fritters and stood up to head back to her partner when she suddenly stopped and gawped at something behind Keith.

Before Keith had time to even turn around a couple of strong arms suddenly wrapped themselves around Keith. Keith just had enough time to utter a puzzled “Huh?” before he was hauled to his feet and brought face to face with his friends John and his boyfriend Brett. Keith let out another “Eh?” as he realised that both John and Brett were dressed as cops… in speedos. Kat had already burst out laughing beside him, but Keith only glared at both of them. “What the fuck was that for?”

“Mr. Keith Harris, you are under arrest.” Brett said primly, holding out a pair of padded pink handcuffs.

“Wait… what…” Keith frowned in puzzlement, then his eyes widened. “The fucking handcuff game!”

That was when Keith bolted. Not that it did him any good.