A Long List of Nevers - 4. Chapter 4

Keith was even more surprised later when he discovered that Carl had led them to exactly where he had planned to go in his little tantrum earlier. They had stopped right in front of the speedo cop duo booth.

It wasn’t exactly a booth, more like a haphazard cardboard sign proclaiming ‘Handcuff Game Registration’ strung over a little corner of the house bar counter. Behind it, a frail little gray haired woman sat on a stool snoring lightly; otherwise the room (which also included the kitchen in the other end) was deserted.

So much for beating up someone to get the key, Keith thought. It was Hannah, whom everyone on the island call Mum. She was Cronek’s resident hippie, a lesbian whose partner had died a decade ago, and one of the sweetest persons on Earth. She was also Brett’s adoptive mother, who incidentally is also a real constable in the island police. He couldn’t exactly beat her up now, could he?

“Here we are.” Carl said quietly as they brought themselves up against the counter. He let go of Keith’s hand without comment. His expression was unreadable but not hostile or challenging, that much Keith was sure of.

Keith hesitated as he locked his gaze with those strangely beautiful eyes. “I…” He cleared his throat and looked away. “I’m not doing this because of you, you know.”

“I know.” Carl’s expression finally brightened with a smile. His voice was still soft and reassuring.

Remembering the way he had looked at Carl earlier, Keith wished he could take back all the angry words he had said. Carl hadn’t made fun of him as he had expected. The guy really hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, Carl had been extremely patient with his tantrums. Any other guy would have been right here with him already, screaming to be free of him.

He heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry.” Keith apologised. “For how I acted earlier.”

“It’s alright, mate.” Carl chuckled. “I hadn’t really considered the possibility that you may not exactly be comfortable with this cuffing thing.”

Keith shrugged then placed the two bottles of beer he had been carrying on the counter. Carl did the same with his bottle.

The noise woke up Hannah. She blinked blearily then adjusted the hippie band on head. “Keith?” She smiled as she wiped her eyes.

“Hi Mum.” Keith smiled back.

“And hello Carl.”

“Hiya Mum.” Carl greeted back warmly. Keith glanced at him in surprise. So he’s already met her, he thought. And she’s asked him to call her Mum as well, something Hannah only does with residents and loggerheads, never to tourists.

“Enjoying Cronek so far?”

“Very much so.” Carl laughed.

“Good.” Hannah chuckled. “So what can I do for you handsome young lads tonight?”

Keith raised their cuffed hands on the counter in answer.

“I’d like to get these off, Mum.”

“Oh. I can’t…”

“Please, Mum.” Keith begged. “You know I don’t come to Midsummers anymore. I only came here because Wazza asked me to. And I certainly didn’t expect th… “

“No no.” Hannah interrupted. “I mean I literally can’t.” She shrugged helplessly.

“Do John and Brett have the key then?” Keith asked.

“Not really.” Hannah frowned then leaned forward. “You see… the Handcuff game was designed exactly to prevent early release. This booth is actually only for registration and payment. When someone pays someone to get cuffed, John and Brett goes out to cuff those people. The cuffs are labeled and we have a lot of cuffs.” She gestured towards the boxes strewn on the floor behind the bar. She was right. There were at least fifty cuffs there, that’s a lot considering that there were also a lot of cuffs in use right now. “But we don’t have the keys. We text the number on the cuff and the time of release to the person who are holding the keys. He or she then drops the key for the specified cuff at the specified time on dropboxes in the house.”

Carl was laughing but Keith wasn’t amused. “Where?”

“In the loos.”

“In the loos?” Keith raised an eyebrow.

“With all the grog, they’re the most visited places tonight.” She laughed. “And the most ideal as they can be assured privacy as they drop the keys off. You can’t exactly stake out the toilets can you?” She snorted. “They’re put in the boxes when the time is up and they text us and we just pick them up and go free whoever is to be freed. We don’t reuse the opened cuffs for the night.”

“That’s some serious planning there.” Carl whistled in amazement. “Real cloak and dagger stuff, eh?”

“Used to be much more complicated back when we didn’t have mobiles.” Hannah laughed merrily.

Keith really wasn’t amused. “So it’s basically anyone who looks like he could be carrying fifty keys, huh?”

“No.” Hannah shook her head. “It’s anyone who wears a wristwatch. They keep the keys safe somewhere else and only take the appropriate one from the bunch when needed.”

Keith groaned. “What about if it gets lost or something? You must have duplicates too.”

“Yes. Another person keeps it. We have their mobile number too.”

“Oh lord.” Keith massaged his forehead. This was getting worse and worse. “When’s our time up then?”

Hannah was now frowning slightly. “It’s set for the whole night.”

“What?!” Keith gaped.

“Why exactly do you want to be let off anyway? Youse seem to be getting along fine. I only met Carl three days ago, but I know for a fact that he’s a nice young man.”

“That I am.” Carl confirmed with a cheeky grin.

“Who paid for it?” Keith asked, ignoring the question.

Hannah sighed. “Now now, Keith, you know I can’t tell you. He’s not gonna get you freed anyhow. And whatever will you do? Beat the bloke up?”

“So it’s a bloke.”

Hannah laughed. “That’s it. I’m beltin’ up. Go. Shoo.” She leaned back on the wine racks behind her and closed her eyes, pulling down her hippie band over them.

Keith sighed again. “Ta anyway, Mum.”

Hannah acknowledged it with a sleepy grunt.

Keith picked up his two beers from the counter. Carl followed suit and grabbed his. He had to twist around to snag it as Keith had already started to walk slowly back out, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

They made their way out the deck and down to the beach without saying a word. Keith was lost in his own thoughts. Carl didn’t attempt to console him nor did he look particularly smug at the outcome. He just glanced Keith’s way every now and then, the gold in his eyes reflecting the lick of flames from the bonfire on the beach.

By now the earlier conflagration had died down to a comfortable campfire blaze. The outlying tables had been abandoned as everyone had moved closer to the now more forgiving warmth of the fire. The tide had also started to encroach on the shore, bathing the place where Keith and Carl had sat earlier with intermittent waves. The loud music earlier had been replaced with Jack Johnson records. The whole atmosphere was rather homey and laidback by now.

A raucous burst of laughter snapped Keith’s head up. Seeing the group of people around the fire, a look of hesitation crossed Keith’s face and he stopped walking. All his friends were there, including a few similarly handcuffed to tourists.

He had been dreading the thought of sitting down with the group, knowing he’d quickly become a target of teasing. Good-natured perhaps, but not something he’d like to be put through just now. They were like family to him. But they’ve always treated him like a wayward child in the way they kept chiding him for his lack of romantic escapades. Something he resented quietly.

Cronek Island’s sacrificial virgin, he mused. They were right, of course. He was lonely. That only made it hurt even more because that failing had never been his choice.

“Hey.” Carl whispered from beside him. Keith looked up to see him smiling down at him. “Want to go somewhere else?”

“Planning to get me to wank you?”

Carl guffawed. “Only if you want to, mate. Only if you want to.”

In spite of himself, Keith couldn’t help grinning. Carl’s optimism was infectious. It really could have been worse. He could have been cuffed to a right whacker for the whole night right now. Considering what he just learned from Hannah, that would’ve really been a nightmare.

Carl was a good bloke, Keith had to grudgingly admit. Dangerous in that he’s so easy to fall for, but infinitely preferable to being cuffed to anyone else. Keith could see him as a friend easily enough. He’d have to work really hard not to fall for him, but yeah, as a friend, Carl was a great guy. Besides, his suggestion certainly had merit to it.

“Come on then.” Keith tugged at Carl’s hand. They made their way towards the grass covered dune banks to the right of the house, opposite the direction Keith had run to earlier. Keith led the way as they clambered up the steep sandy slope. Not as easy as it sounds considering that they had three bottles of beer between them, arms restricted by handcuffs, the loose sand, and minds already swirling from alcohol. Eventually they reached the top, a terrace of sun-baked red dirt mixed with sand. Tufts of beach grass waved gently in the wind as they made their way across it towards a small grove of acacias. Hidden among the trees was a small footpath carved into the beach rock. They clambered down it carefully.

“What’s this place?” Carl asked when their feet finally touched the narrow arc of brilliantly white sand. They had found themselves standing in a small hidden cove.

“Shush.” Keith said. He tugged Carl forward hesitantly, checking the nooks and crannies in the rock face for signs of people. The cove was known to the other islanders, so it was possible that they may have come out here for a little privacy. He wasn’t worried about embarrassing them, he was more worried about being embarrassed at the implications of him sneaking away with Carl here.

Finding no one, he relaxed.

“Goddamn, that’s beautiful.” Carl exclaimed softly beside him.

Keith looked up to see what Carl was staring at and his breath hitched at the sight that greeted him.

The cove was on the other side of the small peninsula on which Wazza and Pat’s beach house was built on, as such its entrance faced east. There, framed by two outcroppings of rock on the entrance, was the moon.

It was a moonrise, to be exact; its reflection a pale white path of light on the water extending out to them as if in invitation. If that wasn’t enough, the breakers on the swells were glowing a startling bluish green, plankton bioluminescence undiluted in the darkness. On reaching the narrow entrance to the cove, the waves broke up into smaller ripples that formed a glowing crosshatch pattern on the dark waters of the shallow lagoon.

They both stood silently for a moment, taking in the almost magical atmosphere of the place.

“You know… they call this the Sunrise Cove.” Keith murmured after a while. “They should rename Moonrise.”

Carl glanced at Keith, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. “You’ve never been here at night?”

“Nope.” Keith replied. “It’s one of the island’s best kept secrets. We’ve never allowed anyone to develop the southern end of the island. Too many fragile ecosystems. Wazza and Pat only use the beach house for the midsummer party… which as I said earlier, I don’t really go to at all.”

“If you hadn’t come you wouldn’t have seen this.” Carl chided with a smile. “Come on.”

They picked their way through the uneven outcroppings of rock on the small beach, finally reaching a ledge that looked flat enough. Keith stuck his extra beer on one of the recesses pockmarking the rock as they sat down. Carl sidled up farther back pulling Keith with him. He leaned back against the smooth rock wall surrounding the cove, Keith following suit.

They sat there sipping beer every now and then, just looking out at the moon and the sea. Away from the prying eyes and the expectations of romance from his friends, Keith just let himself relax. Carl had a calming effect anyway, Keith’s only known him for a few hours but already he can see how being ‘laidback’ seemed to define Carl’s very being. He just made you feel like everything was going to be alright.

Keith sneaked a quick sideways glance at Carl.

Why did he have to be so heartbreakingly handsome though? He was too bloody perfect.

As strange as it may sound, Keith actually wished that Carl looked worse. The way it is now, he was way out of Keith’s league. Some people might interpret Carl’s innate kindness as flirting but Keith wasn’t stupid. Just because that moonlight on the ocean looked like a highway doesn’t mean you can hop on a ute and drive on it. Keith laughed inwardly at his own analogy.

If only Carl was a little bit overweight… or had buckteeth, or pimples, or a huge prominent mole, or… or a pirate scar over one eye maybe? Nah. That would only make him look even dashing. If only he was imperfect in one or more ways, Keith would have had a chance.

Keith wondered what Carl would look like with a pirate eye patch. He sneaked another furtive glance at Carl only to find those blue and gold eyes were already looking at him with amusement.

“Why are you giggling?” Carl asked.

Keith blushed and looked away. “I wasn’t.” He denied.

“Yes you were.” Carl laughed.

“No I wasn’t.” Keith sounded irritated but he was smiling as well.

“Yes you were!”

“Pig’s arse.”

“Oh.” Carl nodded exaggeratedly as if having come to a realization. “Oh now I get it. Last time you said that was…”

Keith rolled his eyes as Carl started to wiggle his eyebrows at him.

“Thinking of the wanking thingo, aren’t you?” Carl nudged him playfully.

Keith slammed a shoulder back at Carl, laughing. “Hell no.”

“Aw, mate. I came here for that.” Carl feigned disappointment.

“Not for the view, eh?”

“You didn’t even know there was a view, mate. But now that we have one… what could be better than wanking with a view?” Carl deliberately drawled out the ‘wanking’ part.

Keith cracked up. “You’re gonna make me pee all over my pants, mate.”

“Watersports.” Carl licked his lips. “Kinky. Can we do it now? Or do we wank off first?”

“Stop it!” Keith punched Carl on the thigh lightly, still grinning from ear to ear.

“Ow.” Carl chuckled. Looking at Keith, his smile suddenly softened. “You’re beautiful when you’re laughing, mate.”

Keith’s grin vanished.

“Did I say anything wrong?”

“Listen.” Keith said, looking squarely into Carl’s eyes. “If you want to keep me in good spirits, mate. Don’t say shit like that.”

“But it’s true!” Carl protested. Keith only met his gaze steadily, expression unreadable. Carl finally conceded, although he still looked perplexed. “Okay, okay I’ll drop it.”

“Thanks.” Keith relaxed. “Anyway, you moving in here?” He asked, remembering Hannah’s earlier familiarity with Carl.

Carl nodded.

“How are you liking it so far?” Keith was surprised to find that he was actually pleased at the confirmation that Carl wasn’t just some passing tourist.

“Pretty grouse, mate.” Carl started telling Keith about the people he had already met. It didn’t amount to much, just basically the people one needed to see if they wanted to settle in Cronek. There were Hannah and Wazza who were both on the town council, more council members who weren’t here tonight by virtue of being heterosexual, Sean the town mayor, and the few people he had managed to meet tonight.

Keith decided to take it upon himself to fill him in on the other folks. Pretty soon they were gossiping about pretty much everybody on the island. Which of the loggerheads were likely to be selling their island residences soon, which of the tourists were the most problematic to the island police, who was dating who, who was sleeping with who. Keith also warned Carl on the quirks of the islanders, which were the most pleasant to be with and which to avoid. Carl laughed along at his characterizations of the people in Cronek. Even Keith hadn’t realized how eccentric a lot of the islanders really were.

Maybe it was the beer, maybe the view, or maybe it was because Carl is just too bloody likeable, Keith eventually warmed up more to him. Before too long, they started sharing their personal interests. Books, movies, computer games, childhood experiences… they talked like old friends, arguing good-naturedly on silly stuff. Keith was shocked to discover that Carl, while outwardly looking like your typical athelete, had no interest in sports whatsoever. He didn’t even follow Australian football. And here Keith had long thought he was the only Aussie who didn’t much care for footy. They also shared a lot of interests, which was also surprising. In fact if it wasn’t for his imposing size and build, Carl could technically be called a geek.

When their beers ran out they took turns taking a sip of the extra bottle Keith had stashed away earlier. Keith couldn’t help but feel a bit thrilled at the thought that he was drinking from the same bottle that Carl had put his lips against. If he had been a bit more sober, he’d have squashed those thoughts in an instant. But as it is, he just enjoyed it.

By the time they had drained the last drops of beer, the night was getting deeper and the wind colder. With his frail physique, Keith started shivering at the constant sea breeze.

“Come closer.” Carl told him abruptly, interrupting the thread of their conversation.

“What?” Keith glanced up.

“You’re freezing.” Carl reached out his cuffed left hand and gripped Keith’s. They were icy. “Come on, mate.” Not being able to reach around with their hands cuffed together like that, Carl instead let Keith’s shoulder nestle against his warm side. He reached out with his free right hand and settled Keith’s head against his neck.

“Carl…” Keith started to protest.

“Shhh.” Carl interrupted him. “Like I said, I like hugging.”

Keith had to concede. He was so cold he was barely able to keep his teeth from chattering. Too drunk to really care that much, Keith burrowed closer and reached an arm to grip Carl’s waist. He sighed in pleasure at the slight warmth afforded from that position.

They sat there entwined in silence, Keith’s mind just drifting with the soft murmuring of the waves.

He hadn’t hugged somebody in so long, Keith realised. A real hug, not the brief kinds you give your friends in greeting. He was still cold, but just being this close to someone else comforted him somehow. Warmed him in a way that physical heat can’t. It was something he knew he’d likely only experience a few more times in his lifetime. He was never going to find anyone to snuggle with regularly. Not when he looked like this and not since his mom had died two years ago. He’d have to content himself to the unexpected hugs, like this one from a virtual stranger. That made him sad.

“Keith?” Carl’s worried voice interrupted his musings.

“Hm?” Keith raised his head to look at Carl and sniffled.

Sniffled?! Keith thought in horror. He quickly pressed a hand against his cheeks, it came up damp. He had been crying.

Shit.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing really.” Keith looked away, smiling self-consciously as he wiped away the tears.

“It’s not nothing.” Carl sat up straighter. He gently cupped Keith’s jaw and turned him to face him again.

“Nothing… I…” Keith sighed. “I just miss my Mom, is all.”

“Is she…”

“She died two years ago.” Keith replied, nodding.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Keith smiled. “It’s just that the hug…” He shrugged helplessly then laughed. “I’m full.”

Carl laughed softly with him but didn’t take his hand away from Keith’s cheek.

“Keith…” Carl whispered huskily. Before Keith could react Carl had covered the distance between them and pressed his mouth against his.

Keith had no warning. His mind already swimming with too much beer, he didn’t even recoil back at Carl’s sudden lunge. One moment he was staring at those blue-gold eyes and the next he was experiencing this.

A kiss.

Softly Carl’s tongue traced Keith’s lips, asking for permission to enter. When Keith’s mouth opened in response, Carl delved in, tasting him. He met Keith’s own hesitant curious tongue with a soft groan. The sensation was alien yet so familiar. It was how Keith had always expected a kiss to feel like, yet different. Keith hadn’t realized his mouth could be this sensitive. It tickled… in a way that made him shiver with pleasure. It was also warm, very warm. The smell of Carl’s ragged breathing, the gentle tugging and sucking, the way Carl’s face felt against his, the soft vibrations of their moans, and the way Carl tasted. He tasted like home.

His first kiss.

At that thought, Keith’s eyes snapped open angrily.