A Long List of Nevers - 24. Chapter 24

Keith heard something slam down hard in the storeroom. He just glanced at the small mirror on the desk and went back to sorting the list of new books to separate the bestsellers from the classics and staples.

He heard Carl talking irately to his phone about missing magazines. Carl had decided to order some last Tuesday after several female tourists had commented on the lack of any tackling health and fitness. Apparently the supplier hadn’t sent them any, as well as sending them books Carl had already canceled orders for.

It had been a week since their argument at the beach. He was still working in the bookstore like he had agreed to.

The anger had passed, but the wariness hadn’t. Keith had finally toned down his barely concealed hostility when talking to him but he still didn’t trust him. At least Carl had kept his promise, though Keith had refused the raise. He kept things professional between them, as if the last weeks had never happened. Both of them never brought the argument up again. Not Josh, the contract, or the fact that Carl was Chooky and that it was over.

They were now just employer and employee. Keith dealt with the cataloguing, while Carl did the stocking and the sorting of new arrivals. They took turns entertaining customers.

He still wanted him, but it still hurt. He couldn’t go running back to him and just ignore what he had done. What he could still do. Especially since according to Brett, Josh was still in the island. He hadn’t come back anywhere near him again though, which was a relief. He wasn’t too sure about Carl. He could be seeing him again.

He should stop fooling himself, he thought. He knew Carl would try again to fulfill the contract using him sooner or later. And Keith knew he’d quit the job the moment Carl tried.

Carl emerged from the storeroom, still looking angry. “I’m going out to get some tucker, anything you want?”

Keith looked up. “Just a sammie, please.”

“Okay. Be right back.” Carl let himself out. Keith heard his car start up and pull out of the driveway a moment later.

He pushed the mouse and keyboard away from him and groaned, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He arranged the mess of papers in front him and pinned them under the clipboard. He stood up and stretched his legs, grunting as his joints popped.

He made his way to the storeroom. Carl had thrown a book down on the floor. It wasn’t the first time. It was still shrink wrapped and thus had escaped damage, unlike one of the earlier books which had ripped. He sighed and bent down to pick it up. Scanning the neat piles of books by genre beside the open box, he placed it to where it belonged to.

He loathed admitting it, but he missed the old Carl.

He hesitated for a bit before sitting down on the low stool. He picked up books from the box and started sorting them mechanically, his mind drifting off.

He hadn’t seen Carl’s smile again or heard his laughter. Sure he smiled for the customers, but it was cheerfully plastic. Of all the things he had expected after the revelation and the break up, he didn’t think he’d miss those the most.

He was also crankier. Though he never directed it on Keith or anyone else, he took it out on the things in the bookstore.

He could almost toy with the idea of calling Josh and telling him that he did sleep with Carl. It would make the weight of the debt and the contract that was probably bothering him go away. It was what the contract demanded, right? Maybe that’ll make him happier, bring back his smile.

But then he’d just be letting himself be used like they’d wanted to anyway. He didn’t really care about the contract anymore. Just that Carl had lied... and that as soon as the debt was gone, there’d be nothing keeping him around Keith anymore.

He was past hating himself for feeling that way. After enough sleepless nights, he couldn’t deny that he still felt a lot for Carl. But yeah… whatever he said before, Keith knew Carl did it for the money. Even if he wanted to get back together with Carl, it would only last until the very second the contract gets fulfilled. He realized now that that had been part of the reason for his anger last week.

He wondered why Carl didn’t just tell Josh himself though. Maybe it required him to confirm it. Without it, Carl could just claim they’d had sex anytime he wanted without actually having to do it.

Either way, it was really over, his brief taste of happiness. Soon enough Carl will leave the island anyway, when he accepts that Keith won’t ever let him fulfill the contract.

He had just finished sorting one box and was opening another when Carl returned.

“You should have left that to me.”

Keith shrugged and stood up.

“The sammie’s on the counter. I bought you a tinny as well.” He said before turning to go back out the lounge. He paused for a moment. “Sorry for the book… again. The supplier didn’t get the changes I requested. Someone somewhere in their orders department fucked something up.”

“No worries.” Keith replied. He got up and followed him out front. He sat on the swivel chair and grabbed the wrapped sandwich and the beer from the counter. The beer had left a ring of moisture in the wood. He almost berated Carl for not using a piece of paper as a coaster, then he remembered that they weren’t quite on those familiar terms anymore.

He wiped it off silently and then set the beer can down on top of the small fridge behind him. He unwrapped the sandwich and started eating.

Carl sat on the lounge, chewing on his burger quietly. His tinny rested on the glass surface of the low table in front of him. Condensation from the cold beer can was threatening to run into several of the magazines stacked near it, but Keith didn’t say anything.

Carl had finished his burger and Keith was chewing the last piece of his sandwich when the chimes tinkled as the door opened. They both looked up.

“Hey guys!”

It was Caz. Keith leaned over the counter and grinned at her. “Hey Caz.”

She had already run over to Carl and was giving him and big hug which Carl returned affectionately.

“You alone?” Carl asked, frowning. She was still in her school uniform.

“Yep.” Caz replied before running over to Keith and giving him a hug as well.

“Shouldn’t your dad be with you?” Carl pressed further.

“No.” She rolled her eyes.

“She’s been taking the bus on her own for a year now, Carl.” Keith explained, but he leaned down and looked Caz in the eye. “But yeah, young lady, you should have been taking one with the teachers immediately after school. You ran off didn’t you? How many times have we told you it’s dangerous to wander about town on your own?”

“I took the bus here, doh.” Caz pouted. “I asked Danny to drop me off, he said okay.”

Danny was the driver of the school bus. Keith sighed. “Okay. But don’t ever wander on your own again, okay?”

“Danny knows you work here.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not stupid.”

Carl laughed behind her at her familiar quintessential protest. Keith looked up in surprise. Keith smiled a little in return before he could stop himself. He really did miss hearing that. His eyes lingered over Carl’s expression for a moment before dropping back regretfully to Caz.

Carl was so beautiful… especially when he laughed.

Just like Josh, he reminded himself firmly, though he wasn’t sure he really believed that that was a fair comparison at all.

“Whatchoo got there, Caz?” Carl asked.

“Oh yeah!” She excitedly hurried to the low table. She picked the stacked magazines up and dumped them on the lounge. Keith started to protest but gave up. He’ll rearrange it later. She picked up Carl’s beer and held it out to him. He accepted it, helping to wipe the dampness from the top of the table with a handkerchief. Keith wandered over beside Carl curiously.

She pulled out the roll of paper sticking out from her backpack and spread it out on the table. “I finished it!” She said proudly, flashing her gap-toothed smile at both of them.

“That’s ace, Caz!” Carl beamed and patted her head. “Really awesome.”

“Thanks!”

It was her painting of the snails. She still had no concept of composition whatsoever, the snails, scallops, and whatnot were simply scattered all over the laid paper. But the individual rendering of each shell was skillfully done, better than what most adults were capable of.

“Keith?” Carl asked worriedly. In stark contrast to his reaction, Keith was staring at the painting in horror.

“Don’t you like it, Keith?” Caz asked, frowning.

“No.” Keith replied. “I mean yes. Yes, I like it, of course. I love it! But you really shouldn’t be carrying pastel paintings that way!”

Caz grinned sheepishly. “I didn’t know.”

The center of the laid paper was already covered with a considerable amount of pastel dust and flakes that had fallen off the surface of the paper because of the way it had been rolled.

“But yeah, Caz. It’s beautiful” He smiled reassuringly. “But we need to do something about this.” He looked around the store. “Just hold it flat for now, Caz, please. Carl, do we still have extra cardboard and some styrofoam maybe? Just small pieces of them.”

“Yeah, we got some in the back.” Carl straightened up. “I’ll get them” He headed for the storeroom, stopping to stash his tinny inside the fridge before continuing.

“Ta.” Keith went over to the counter and grabbed some drawing pins, adhesive tape, and a cutter. They didn’t have glassine anywhere in the store, but these will have to do for now. He’ll get it to Mr. Simmons later for proper mounting.

Carl returned with some collapsed cardboard boxes and some sheets of styrofoam. Keith took them from him. They were stiff enough to work. He measured it against the painting and stooped down to cut out two rectangles from the cardboard. Carl took over holding the painting down flat on the table from Caz, who flopped down gratefully on the lounge. Both of them stared at what Keith was doing in fascination.

Keith took the styrofoam and carved out four L-shaped pieces from them. He picked up one cardboard piece and went over to Carl. “Lift the top corners up.”

He slid the cardboard beneath it when Carl complied. He carefully measured two pieces of the L-shaped styrofoam against the top corners. He nodded to Carl who curled up the edges. Keith taped them down. He did the same for the bottom corners.

“Ok hold the painting against it, taut just so the surface doesn’t jiggle, but not too taut.” Carl obliged. Keith pinned one of the corners first, carefully keeping it well beyond the actual painted area. Carl drew it tight to the other corner, letting Keith pin that as well. They repeated it on the bottom corners.

“Neat.” Caz whispered beside them.

“Still not done.” Keith returned to the styrofoam and began cutting even bigger rectangular pieces from it. He stacked two of these together and taped them together. He worked silently, completing two other such pieces quickly.

On the last one, the styrofoam was now so full of holes from the earlier cutouts that it broke off under the pressure of the cutter. Carl immediately leaned down. He reached out to steady the piece that Keith was carving.

His fingers brushed Keith’s other hand accidentally. They both looked up immediately, startled, and withdrew their hands as if burned.

“Ow.” Keith winced at a sudden sharp pain. He looked back down. He had brushed a finger against the blade of the cutter while pulling his hand back, nicking it. He retracted the blade and discarded the cutter. The wound was shallow but quite wide and nasty looking with the amount of blood pouring from it. Caz was wrinkling her nose in sympathy from where she sat. He started sucking on the wounded finger, his eyes watering.

“Crap.” Carl blurted out. “Sorry.” He bolted off towards the desk behind the counter, rummaging through the drawers. He came back with some bandages and a small bottle of antiseptic. “Show it to me.”

Keith looked at him warily as he withdrew his finger from his mouth. He wiped it off on his pants before showing it to Carl reluctantly. “It’s nothing.”

Carl hesitated, emotions warring on his face before he finally relented and held Keith’s hand. Carl worked as quickly as he could, dabbing a little antiseptic and wrapping bandage around it. It was over in seconds, but the silence between them afterwards seemed to stretch forever.

Was Carl acting? Keith wondered, stealing a glance at him. And why did he, himself, feel like this? They just brushed hands, for fuck’s sake.

But this was the first time they had touched each other in any way since the breakup. The contact, however brief, stirred up unnamable emotions, vivid memories of those fingers in more passionate moments.

Fuck.

He still wanted him badly.

“You said ‘crap’.” They both looked up. Caz was giggling mischievously on the lounge. It broke the spell and they both laughed with her, albeit a little tensely.

“Sorry.” Carl apologized. Then his laughter abruptly trailed off. “And sorry, Keith… for everything.” He added.

Keith glanced at him sharply. It didn’t take a genius to know that he wasn’t talking about the wound anymore. “Not now, Carl.”

“Sorry.” Carl repeated again, looking even more abject this time.

Keith didn’t reply. He just bent down and continued cutting. He taped the thicker strips of styrofoam on the outer edges of the first cardboard mount then pressed the second cardboard on top of it, peering between them to ensure that it wasn’t touching the surface of the painting. Satisfied that it wasn’t, he taped the edges of the two cardboard pieces together.

“Done.” He smiled at Caz.

Caz squinted at the construction doubtfully. “I can’t carry that on my backpack.”

Keith laughed. “Yeah, sorry. We’ll keep it for you and give it to Mr. Simmons for mounting later.”

“Okay.”

“When you finish a painting next time, just drop it at my house okay? Keep it flat, don’t fold it or roll it. I’ll give you some glassine later.”

“What’s glassine?”

“Never mind, you’ll see later. Right now, you need to get home.”

“I’ll walk her to the terminal.” Carl volunteered.

Keith nodded. “I’ll clean these up.”

Carl smiled at Caz then turned around and sat on the lounge. “Hop up.”

Caz obediently slung her arms around Carl’s neck. Carl stood up, laughing as Caz cheered him on behind him.

“Carl, make sure she knows the bus driver.” Carl nodded. “Caz, tell him which buses you can take.”

“Okay. Bye, Keith.” She waved cheerfully.

“Bye. Be careful on the ride home and call your dad, tell him where you were.” Keith said, starting to gather up the pieces of cardboard and styrofoam scattered on the reading lounge. Caz and Carl left the store, laughing and joking with each other.

Keith quickly threw the bits and ends on the rubbish and took the larger remaining pieces to the recycling dumpsters in the back.

He returned and moved the crudely mounted painting carefully to a space on one of the shelves. He arranged the magazines back on the table then sat down on the swivel chair behind the counter.

He pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly.

Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea that he remained working for Carl after all. He didn’t know if Carl’s clear underlying meaning in the apology earlier warranted as a ‘try’ and thus grounds for him leaving. One part of him screamed that it was. A bigger part of him didn’t want to even entertain the thought of leaving.

He wanted to stay here, near Carl. He wanted to feel his touch again… kiss him… make love to him.

As if to deliberately provoke him, the swivel chair beneath him squeaked.

He glared at it.

The chimes tinkled again as Carl returned. “I got her on a bus driven by a Vincent bloke. She seems to know him well enough.”

“Yeah, Vincent’s the one driving past our route.”

“Ok good.”

“Carl?”

“Yeah?”

“Look, we’re over, alright?”

“I know.” Carl replied quietly.

“I don’t want to talk about anything about it. What you said earlier…”

“Sorry, won’t happen again.”

“Good. Because I will leave if you keep bringing it up. I’m doing my best to be civil here. Just… don’t egg me on. I’m still hoping we’ll get over this and still be friends again someday.”

“I know. Sorry.” Carl said. He stood there fidgeting in front of the counter. “Listen… you probably won’t like this…”

“What now?”

“I… well Caz…” Carl scratched his head helplessly. “She invited us for dinner tonight.”

Keith groaned. “And you said yes?”

“Well what was I supposed to say? ‘Caz, we can’t because me and Keith had a blue’?”

Keith covered his face with his hands. “I guess we have to.”

“Does Lee know?”

“No.”

“Will you tell him?”

“Not now. I don’t want to.”

“This will be awkward.”

“Very. I’ve told Kat, Miri, Brett, and John. Lee, Wazza, and Pat don’t know. The rest don’t need to be told. They never knew we were together in the first place.”

Carl was silent for a moment. “I can pretend for Caz’s sake. Can you?”

“Yeah. I’d have to.”

“Okay.” He started to walk back towards the storeroom.

“Just don’t go overboard. I’m still pissed at you and Josh for dragging me back into this bullshit. And I won’t ever let you fulfill the contract, the sooner you accept that, the better.”

Carl looked at him silently, an unreadable expression on his face, then nodded once and continued towards the storeroom. Keith stared after him glumly.

Keith almost cheered out loud when some customers arrived few seconds later. It gave him a welcome reprieve from all the drama demons that had suddenly decided to live inside his head.