A Long List of Nevers - 7. Chapter 7

“Don’t tell me you’re…” Keith began in disbelief.

“Yep.” Carl set down the pizza and the beer on the counter and went over to Keith.

“But…”

“Congratulations! You’re hired!” Carl held out a hand, grinning.

Keith ignored it. “Did you know all this time?”

“I guess.” Carl shrugged and put away the proffered hand.

“You’re fucked up, mate.”

“Wazza already told you the pay and all, I reckon, so… Hey, wait! Where are you going?” Carl hurried after Keith who had stomped off for the door. He grabbed Keith’s arm just as he was about to pull the door open.

“Let go of me.”

“Mate, come on. I didn’t tell you because you were mad enough already.”

“Did you pay for the cuffing as well?”

“Uh… well…” Carl looked down at his shoes, smiling sheepishly. “Yes. But I didn’t know… Well I helped you try and get them off, right?”

It was true. He did try after the first few hours. But why did Keith feel like there is more to the handcuffing affair than just him being Carl’s new employee?

“Just calm down.” Carl pleaded. “Look, I’m sorry for whatever happened the other night. And there’s really no one else I can hire here, unless I settle for part-time tourists who won’t take any of this seriously.”

“What did happen the other night?” Keith asked. He hadn’t gotten a chance to ask John and Brett yet.

“Well… your phone worked. Probably had a signal the moment we got out of the forest. I called Brett and he picked us up. You were asleep all through it. Probably really bummed eh?”

“Did anything happen?” His meaning was unmistakable.

“No, mate. If you mean us being in the nuddies.” Carl actually blushed pink at that. “Brett insisted we –”

“Where’s my phone?” Keith interrupted. He had thought he had dropped it on the trek when he realized it was missing yesterday.

“I have it. You left without waking me up. It’s on the counter.” Carl just nodded his head to its direction, not wanting to let go of Keith who looked like he would bolt the moment he did. “Just… let’s talk okay?”

Keith sighed and nodded. “Okay.” He was relieved to hear nothing had happened. He already had a fair idea of what Brett did. Brett probably spun some tale about how their clothes were too dusty for the pristine hotel bedcovers and how all the other rooms in the hotel were occupied. Anything to get them to share the sole remaining bed, of course. He’ll have to remember to smack Brett the next time he saw him.

“Can I let go of you now? You won’t run off?”

“No.” Keith promised.

“Okay.” Carl let go and waited for a moment. When Keith didn’t run, he smiled hesitantly. “Come on.” He led the way to the counter. Reaching behind the counter, he opened a drawer and pulled out the mobile phone. He gave it to Keith warily, still expecting him to bolt as soon as got it.

Keith accepted it and noted the ‘New Message’ icon on the screen. He opened one and his eyes widened. It was Kat begging him to tell her about Carl.

“Did you read any of this?”

“No, mate.” Carl replied.

“You sure?”

“Hell, mate! I didn’t look, alright?”

From the contents of the text messages (‘He’s so hawt, Keith! Did he top?’), Carl should be acting a lot differently if he had read it. Keith sighed and nodded. He believed him. He pocketed the phone, not bothering to read the rest of the messages.

“I’ll work for you.” Keith decided.

“Great!” Carl’s face broke into a big grin. “We’ll settle the paperwork later. Right now you need to get out of that godawful shirt.”

Keith had to laugh. “I thought you were gonna be some balding middle-aged bookworm.”

“Pff. Just dress comfortably next time, alright?” Carl opened another drawer on the counter and pulled out a white cotton shirt. “This will do. Put it on.” He tossed it at Keith.

Keith shucked off his dress shirt. Carl hadn’t turned away and was making no secret of the fact that he was staring.

Bastard.

Keith turned away before donning on the white shirt, self-conscious of his scrawny chest. He tossed the dress shirt back at Carl who stashed it away on the same drawer. He tossed the beer inside the little fridge below the counter desk and led Keith back to where he had been earlier.

After an explanation by Carl on the cataloguing system, they got to work stocking the shelves. Keith did the lists and filled the lower shelves mostly while Carl filled the higher shelves and brought in the boxes of books from the storeroom. They didn’t talk much, and Keith liked that just fine.

They took a break with the pizza and the beer at around six. They had filled seven sections and Keith’s arm was aching a bit. They settled down to eat on the reading lounge area beside the closed glass windows. The pizza was cold but still palatable. They were both ravenous enough not to care.

“Tired?” Carl asked, munching hungrily on a slice.

“A bit.”

“Sorry. Rest of the time, we’d just be sitting on our asses really. It’s the stocking up that’s the backbreaker.”

“I know, it’s the same with the souvenir shop before.” He looked at Carl curiously. “Have you ever had a bookstore before?”

“Yeah. I opened this in Perth originally. Not enough business. Too small, couldn’t compete with the big chains. So I moved here.” He opened a can of beer and handed it to Keith.

Keith nodded as he took a small sip from the tinny. It was deliciously icy. He had to be careful, he didn’t want a repeat of that night. His slight build meant he got drunk way quicker than guys like Carl.

“Sunbaking tourists usually need something to read, right?” Carl added, opening another tinny for himself.

“Yeah.” Keith agreed. “Some folks come here as well just wanting to get away from things. Not to swim or surf or anything. Just some zen time or some other thingo. We have resort cabins out on the east for that. They usually stay for a bit.” Keith chuckled. “They get bored quickly though. Books might help them stay longer. How are you planning to ship the books here, by the way?”

“Oh. I arranged something with Davo.” Davo was the captain of the island’s mail ferry. They didn’t have an airport.

“Right.” Keith nodded again. “Good call on this one, mate. Kids here might actually learn to love reading too.” Keith said, thinking primarily of Caz.

“Oh yeah.” Carl smiled. “I had one come in here a few days back with her dad. I had just finished painting the sign outside. She wanted a book on snails. Had to tell her the books on those were still in their boxes. Cute kid.”

“Wait… snails. Was she…”

“Name was Caroline, Caz.”

“Oh, you’ve met Caz.” Keith lit up. “She’s my neighbor. More like my little sister really.”

“She’s adorable.” Carl smiled at the memory.

“Yeah.” Keith mirrored the affectionate smile. “If you do have a book on snails, I’d like to have it. You can take it off my pay or something.”

“Oh sure, mate. Once we get to the Nature section, I’ll pick one out. And naw, you can have it for free, mate. Tell her it’s a gift from Carl.”

“Thanks.”

“Also there was this old lady…” Carl began.

Keith knew exactly who he was talking about by his tone alone.

“Stuffy old bat. Was wearing this frilly… evening gown or some shit.” Carl gestured something to mimic a billowing dress around him. “Whatever it was it looked like something she dug up before both world wars. She came in, asked for the Christian section. Told her we haven’t opened it yet and it will be in the Religion section. She sniffed and told me quite rudely that in her opinion the Christian section should be a whole section on its own. Then she noticed the rainbow flag.” Carl laughed and pointed at the small LGBT sticker on top of the computer on the counter. “She glared like an old hag. I mean really glared then left.”

Keith laughed. “Mrs. Minnear.”

“That was her? Scary shiela.” Carl grimaced. Keith had told him about her in their conversation at Sunrise Cove.

“Like I told you, they’re the old guard here in Cornek. Former fishermen and their wives who fancy themselves royalty just because their ancestors have been here longer than the rest of us. Most of them are nice though, and their children are a lot nicer. Sean’s ancestors have also been here since the founding.” Keith took a sip of his beer.

“How come most of you guys here seem to be openly inviting gay tourism?”

“Cronek’s weird. You have Wazza and Pat to thank for that.”

“Sounds like a tale.”

“Wazza’s family owned most of the island back then. Pat was a hired hand, son of some sheepshearer back at the mainland. Wazza fell in love with Pat and the whole island went up in flames at that.”

“Literally?” Carl’s eyes widened.

“No.” Keith laughed. “But might as well. Wazza’s dad threatened to disown him. They said the town church was preaching Sodom and Gomorrah for weeks. Most of everyone on the island had known Wazza since he was a kid though. Son of the richest man in Cronek, but he worked hard and wasn’t snobby so he was well liked. Helped out with the townies a lot before so they sympathized with him and Pat.”

“Wazza doesn’t act rich. He got disowned right?” Carl gulped down another slice of pizza.

Keith laughed again. “He and Pat own most of the island resorts mate. The gay pub is really just a sort of hobby. It’s their decision on why the south portion of the island hasn’t been developed.” Keith wiped some pizza sauce on his chin. “Anyway, townsfolk kept Wazza and Pat. They worked for Sean’s dad for a bit I think. Wazza’s dad finally relented a decade before his death. Wazza’s mom convinced him about it. Town priest was livid.”

“I drove past the church when I first came here.”

“Let me guess. The sermon of the day was something about Leviticus?” Keith chuckled. “They haven’t really given up, even now. Every priest stationed to this parish seem to be sent for one purpose – to convince the townies to start stoning the gays. Wazza just leaves them alone, most everyone ignores them. Hard to sell hate and damnation when you’re on a tropical paradise. The few townsfolk who still go there are the ‘old guard’ like old lady Minnear.”

“Still. Having a gay pub and LGBT events openly is a big thing, mate.”

“Yeah. We’re lucky here, I guess.” Keith agreed.

“I really enjoyed that party, mate.” Carl said quietly after a bit.

“I didn’t.” Keith’s voice hardened and his smile faded. Not this again.

“It was fun.” Carl said, smiling. “If you’re still thinking about that kiss…” He paused as he saw Keith stiffen.

“I don’t want to talk about it again. It’s stupid.”

“I haven’t really been keeping it a secret, mate, but let me spell it out for you.” Carl took a deep breath. “I like you mate. I really like you.” His blue-gold eyes held Keith’s gaze steadily, his expression almost pious in its sincerity.

Keith stared back, stone-faced. Then he cracked a tiny smile. Carl started to relax… but only for a second. Keith’s smile had rapidly turned to barely controlled laughter.

“Eh?” Carl looked at Keith, puzzled.

“Typical.” Keith said, shaking his head in mirth. He was still smiling as he bit into another slice of cold pizza. He bet Carl was waiting for him to melt into his arms and have wild hot sex right then and there.

Well, he’ll have to keep waiting, Keith thought contemptuously.

“Keith? I said I liked…” Carl began again.

“I know what you said. The answer is no. It’s not happening ever.” Keith interrupted. He finished the slice, drained his beer, and got up. “Just forget it. Let’s just get back to work.”

Carl’s expression was a mixture of bafflement and hurt. Keith forced himself to ignore it. Carl complied though, he didn’t push the issue further.

They finished stocking up and cataloguing two more sections in relative silence. Keith just focused on the hypnotic work of jotting down book titles, authors, and ISBN’s. Carl was doing a pouting routine all throughout it.

Keith had to admit it was pretty effective, several times he almost wanted to just stop what they were doing and hug him. But that’s what Carl would’ve wanted anyway. He’d just be damning himself.

Carl decided to call it a day when the clock struck eight. He stashed away the ledger and handed him the employment paperwork to sign. Keith attached his signature on the relatively simple contract and handed it back without comment. Keith knew Carl was expecting him to put a fuss up again after their earlier exchange.

Truth was, he needed the money, and as long as Carl knew there’d never be anything between them, Keith reckoned he can work here just fine.

Carl asked him to come back on Sunday afternoon for overtime work. They’d be opening for business on Monday and he needed help to get things ready by then. Keith agreed readily. He retrieved his dress shirt from the drawer and left as Carl was locking up.

Taking the bus back home, Keith leaned his head against the seat in front of him. He had looked back at Carl while he was walking away toward the bus terminal. He saw Carl kick the storefront shutters in unmistakable anger and then slump against it in defeat.

Keith wondered if he had made a mistake.