A Long List of Nevers - 21. Chapter 21

Keith finished pinning the new list of bestsellers on the big corkboard above the lounge. He grimaced as he stepped back to examine it. His handwriting looked downright ugly next to Carl’s easy loping scrawl. He comforted himself with the fact that he was coming back by Monday, two days away.

He smiled as he remembered his earlier phone call. Carl had patched things up with his folks. He was so infectiously happy about it that Keith had felt cheerful all day as well.

He couldn’t wait to have Carl back.

The chimes rang briefly as the door to the bookstore swung open. Keith turned to greet the customer and froze.

Josh was standing inside the reading lounge and dwarfing the furniture with his imposing size.

His heart racing, Keith backed towards the counter. Not taking his eyes off him, his fingers scrabbled around on the desk, spilling some papers and pens down on the floor. His hands found the phone. He braced himself, ready to call 000 if needed.

“Hello, Keith.” Josh greeted him. His smile was more distinctly viperish now that they were alone. He walked slowly to the first shelf and inspected the books casually.

“What do you want?” Keith demanded. He was relieved to hear his voice remained steady despite the way his hands were trembling.

“Just dropping by on an old friend.” He brushed away a stray lock of dark hair falling across his handsome face. “Your friend, Brett, wasn’t very nice last night. I expected better from him honestly. I had to catch a ride from some drunk seppos. I reckon this means our investment deal is off, hm?”

Keith remained silent.

“Shame.” He clucked his tongue. “So how have you been, mate?”

“What are you doing here?” Keith demanded again.

“You’re still holding that… unfortunate incident against me, I see. It’s been years, mate. We were young and stupid and all that shite.” He waved a hand dismissively, smiling a smile that never reached his eyes. “Did you hear I’m out now?”

“About time.”

“I know, right? Not that I actually had any say on it.”

Josh stuck his hands in his pants in a boyish shrug that once, long ago, had made Keith fall madly in love with him.

“Not going to ask how I’ve been? I’m great. My oldies weren’t too wild about me being a poofter, but hey, can’t get everything, right?”

He approached the counter and leaned against it. Keith had to force himself not to recoil as Josh leaned forward on his elbows.

“I see you’ve maintained your figure.” He murmured mockingly as his eyes drifted down Keith’s body. “So how have you been, Keith?” He waited for a few seconds before it became clear that Keith had no intention of answering. “Not very talkative are we?”

“I’d rather you leave right now.”

“The restraining order expired four years ago and besides… why, Keith?” He raised a finger to Keith’s cheeks, smiling as Keith involuntarily winced at the touch. “I’ve changed. Been doing charity work, you see. Why can’t we be… friends again?” His voice dropped suggestively.

The finger traced down Keith’s jawline, coming to rest on his lower lip. Keith jerked back angrily.

Josh laughed softly. “You know, I would have fucked you if you had begged me to. But then again, it was more amusing to see you salivate after my ass and do my homework for free.”

“Get the fuck out.”

“Oh yeah. I forgot, you’re taken now.” Josh pushed himself away from the counter, sighing. “Shame.”

“Hello.” A good natured voice called out as the door swung open again. Josh turned around to see John enter.

Keith felt himself breathe easier at the sight of him. John was shorter than Josh by a few inches but just as solidly built. He stood inside the door holding a bag of chips and a newspaper in one hand. His gaze switched back and forth between the two of them. John and Josh didn’t recognize each other, but a look of instant dislike crossed both of their faces as they met each other’s gaze.

To Keith’s relief, John sensed his acute discomfort as well. He immediately made his way to Keith’s side, ignoring Josh’s grin of greeting.

“Brought you some chips, mate.” He said cheerfully as if Josh wasn’t there at all.

“Ta.” Keith accepted it. After what he’d told his friends the other night, John had taken to dropping by the bookstore randomly, helping him out at times since his own work schedule was flexible. He and Brett probably talked about this, aware that without Carl, Keith was all alone there. John turned back towards Josh, his expression hostile and protective.

Josh’s smile didn’t waver. “Where’s Carl?”

Keith looked at him sharply, his stomach tightening.

“Not here, eh?”

“How do you know Carl?”

Josh’s eyes widened, then he started to laugh.

Keith watched him silently with a growing ominous feeling in his chest. He wanted to strangle the answer out of him. John was crumpling the newspaper in one fist, doubtlessly with the same intention in mind.

“You mean he hasn’t told you?” Josh slapped the counter as he laughed. Keith and John just stared back stonily. “Oh boy, this is rich!”

The cold ball of fear solidified in Keith’s chest as he watched him laugh.

“You and me and Carl.” Josh said slowly, his voice dripping with malice. He was still chuckling. “Let’s just say we have a history.”

With a final derisive laugh, he turned away and left the store.

“Twice the fool.” Keith heard Josh mutter as the door closed behind him.

“What did he mean?” John asked, concern etched on his face.

“I don’t know.” Keith whispered, desperately telling himself that Josh only said that to scare him. “But I have to find out.”

John was absently hitting the wind chimes in verandah with one hand as he waited for Keith to find the key to Carl’s house.

“John, could you stop that, mate?” Keith called out. The tinkling reminded him of the night he hit his head on it while Carl was carrying him in his arms.

“Sorry.” John stopped.

Keith went back to trying on each key on the locked door. It was already nearly eight in the evening and in the darkness of the verandah it was a bit hard trying to find the right key.

He was breaking Carl’s trust, he knew that, but after what Josh had said he had to find out who Carl was.

John had helped him close the bookstore. Having no car, Keith had asked him to drive him over to Carl’s house as well.

A key finally snicked into place. He turned it and pushed the door open.

“John?”

“Yep?”

“Wait for me for a while, okay? The nearest bus stop is a bit far from here.”

“No worries, mate.” John saluted and went back to whistling tunelessly and munching on the chips.

Keith groped for the switch inside and turned the light on. The house was exactly the way they had left it on the morning of Carl’s departure for Exmouth. He made his way to the bedroom, turning the lights on there as well.

The room smelled of Carl. The rumpled sheets reminded him of their last passionate morning together. For a moment, he almost turned around and walked back out.

But he had to.

He didn’t want to end up with another Josh again. Steeling himself, he walked to the closet and pulled the folding doors open. He found himself facing rows of Carl’s shirts. He briefly brought one to his nose, imagining he could smell Carl in them. His pants were folded neatly on a shelf below. Below that were drawers.

He kneeled down and began opening the top ones. Socks, undies, ties, hats… He stopped at the bottom right drawer. Inside it were rows of books and documents. He tilted his head to read the titles on the spines. The first one caught his eye immediately. It was a University of Western Australia yearbook for last year’s graduates.

He carefully pulled it out and opened it. He scanned the table of contents and found the page for the Biological Sciences section. He flipped through the first few pages before finding him.

Carl Henry Baird. He looked as he did now, smiling impishly at the camera. His eyes seemed blue in the low resolution picture. Keith couldn’t repress a fond smile as he traced a finger along Carl’s cheek on the photo. It was curious to discover that during his last couple of years studying at Murdoch University, Carl was just a dozen or so kilometres across Swan River in Perth.

There were no other pictures or mention of him in the rest of the book so he replaced it.

Between the UWA yearbook and the second book on the row was a folder. He eased it out, taking care not to spill the contents. Inside were more pictures of him from uni, arranged by date.

Most of the earlier ones were self-taken. In the photos where he was eighteen, he looked a bit lankier and was wearing unflattering eyeglasses. It effectively hid the dual color of his eyes, making them seem an ordinary blue. But he was as tall as he is now, and not even the awful glasses could hide the fact that he was a good-looking bloke.

He only found a couple of pictures with what could pass as a smile. In the rest of the photos, he looked sullen and withdrawn. His later years showed him to be more and more like the cheerful Carl that he was now. He had lost the glasses by his third year. Most of these pictures also now featured friends; laughing, and goofing off for the camera. He stood out easily among them, being the largest guy in all the group pictures, not to mention the most attractive.

He found a picture of him hugging a large teddy bear in the last few photos. His eyes were brilliantly blue and yellow, a playful grin on his face. Keith’s found himself grinning back. Feeling a little bit guilty, he separated the picture from the rest. He pressed his lips against it, imagining feeling Carl’s lips again, then he took out his wallet and tucked it inside.

He shuffled the pictures back together and replaced the folder. He tilted his head again to read the words on the spine of the second book.

It was a biology textbook, same with six other books before he finally saw four books sporting almost identical spines. His heart did a little lurch as he recognized the familiar crest inlaid on each.

They were high school yearbooks from Greenwell Boarding School. The school he and Josh went to.

There’s nothing strange about that, is there? Greenwell was pretty large after all. He picked out the book corresponding Carl’s sophomore year – Keith’s senior year and the year he left Greenwell.

His hands were trembling as he opened it to the first page. He knew he wasn’t in it. The incident had happened at the middle of the school year, long before the school had started taking the pictorials for this.

Just a few names into the senior class section, he came across Josh, handsome as always but without his charismatic smile. He looked… angry.

Was it because he had to do community service for beating up Keith? It suited him anyway. This was the real Josh – volatile, childish, arrogant, and cruel. Beneath his picture, there was no mention of him being in the school’s footy team.

Keith had an urge to find a marker and draw a mustache all over that face. He turned the page with an unnecessary vehemence.

Carl was two years younger than him, so he had to be in the sophomore section. He quickly flipped the pages until he came to the divider page for the sophomores.

He realized that the names weren’t arranged alphabetically but by class, but there was a little table of contents listing everyone alphabetically and the page they could be found. He scanned the list until he came to Baird, Carl Henry.

Page 103. He flipped the pages again until he came to page 102. He bit his lip as he turned the page.

A few photos had been sandwiched face-down on this page. But he didn’t notice them. He had gone completely still as he looked at the bottom picture on the page.

Carl Henry Baird was still wearing glasses, blond hair sticking out all over his head in an untidy mop. He had pimples, braces, and was even skinnier and shorter than Keith had been at the same age.

Carl Henry Baird was the kid more popularly (or unpopularly) known in Greenwell as Chooky Bird.

Carl Henry Baird was the kid Keith had ‘saved’ from Josh.

Noticing the inserted photos, he flipped one around.

“No.” He whispered. “Fuck, no.”

The picture wasn’t of Carl in high school. It was of him in university… the bigger, sexier Carl…

…and he was snogging Josh.

Twice the fool.