Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Marty's Shorts and Flashes - 1. The Bench (Short)
Two young men sit on a bench in the south of France and discuss their plans for the coming night.
The two young men sat down on the concrete bench which looked out onto the Mediterranean. The sea was the same intense blue as the sky itself, making it almost impossible to distinguish the horizon. They seemed oblivious to the crowds of other holidaymakers who were strolling along the man-made footpath that led around this part of the Côte Bleue.
After maybe two whole minutes one of them turned to the other and simply asked:
“Well?”
“It’s the ideal spot.”
“You sure now? I don’t mind continuing if you’re not?”
“No, this is the spot. Honest. I know we’ve looked at so many all week, but this one is perfect.”
“Don’t feel I’d be upset if you suggest we keep looking. There’s more than a week of the holiday left. We can keep looking if you like.”
“Brian, this is perfect! If we were to look for another year I doubt we’d find anything better.”
“Okay. So it’s settled then? We’ll come back just after dark and bring the guitar with us. And maybe a flash lamp.”
“That’ll hardly be necessary. There's to be a full moon tomorrow night, so we’ll be able to see well enough tonight. But after dark sounds good to me. There shouldn't be as many people about by then.”
Brian reached across and squeezed his companion’s arm gently. “I’ll be here for you anyway, Mick,” he said softly. “And I’m sure Tom and Mary will come along if you ask them. But it’s up to you. Just say the word and we’ll leave you by yourself if that’s what you want.”
“No, that’s okay. I’d appreciate the three of you being here. Especially you. You're the only one that can play the guitar, anyway. And you’ve done so much for me this past while. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”
“You don’t need to. I’ve told you that often enough.”
“Maybe. It’s just that I keep thinking that but for you I might never have got the chance to do this. And you know how important it is to me…” His voice trailed off.
“Well I know it is important. I’m still not sure exactly why. But anything that makes you happy makes me happy too.”
Mick turned his eyes from the sea and looked into Brian’s eyes. He moved his hand slowly towards his friend’s thigh, stopping when it was just a few inches away and letting it rest palm downwards on the warm concrete.
“I don’t know how I can ever thank you,” he said softly.
“Stop it! I don’t want any thanks. I just want to see you happy.”
Mick suddenly jumped up off the bench and threw both his hands into the air. “I am happy!” he shouted. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my life!” And, as if to demonstrate the fact, he grabbed Brian by the wrist, pulled him to his feet, and started dancing round in circles with him.
“God, you’re a fool at times you know,” Brian said between laughs. “You’re making a holy show of us. Two grown men dancing with each other in public. What must all these people think?”
“Ask me if I even care what they think.”
“Okay. Do you even care what they think?”
“Nope! Couldn’t care less! We’re on holiday, same as the most of them are.”
“And anyway we’re in France,” he continued. “Don’t the fellas kiss each other on the cheeks all the time over here? Sure, if they can do that we can dance with each other.”
He stopped dancing and leant the side of his face towards his companion in the manner he’d often see the locals do when they were greeting each other. Brian leaned in to give the greeting but, just as his lips were about to touch the proffered cheek, his companion sprang to one side and vaulted over the bench, shouting “Catch me if you can!” He proceeded to run round and round the bench as Brian joined in the madness of the moment and tried in vain to catch him.
Eventually the pair of them collapsed back onto the bench in fits of laughter.
“God, you’re a complete and utter fool you know,” Brian laughed as he gasped for breath.
“Sure and look who’s talking. If it’s not the king of fools himself. It wasn’t me who almost finished up in Amiens while driving from Cherbourg to Paris, now was it?” Mick managed to say through a fit of laughter.
“Maybe not. But remember who was actually holding the map on that trip. I still blame the navigator for that little faux pas.”
“There you go again. Trying to baffle me with French,” laughed Mick. “And anyway the map you gave me was in French as well. Sure, how do you expect a poor wee Irish country boy like me to understand French?”
“But you’re the one that’s supposed to know a little French! Sure, the rest of us hardly know a word of the language.”
“And I bet that’s the only reason I got dragged along on this trip in the first place,” teased Mick.
“Mais oui. You don’t think it had anything to do with your charming personality or your natural good looks, do you?”
“Qu’est-ce que c’est, mon cher? Vous dites que vous avez les ‘hottes’ pour moi?”
“Fuck you and your French!” laughed Brian.
Mick grinned seductively. “Wouldn’t you just love to?” he asked.
“Stop it, you tease!”
Mick looked downwards and pouted, pretending to look hurt at this last comment.
“No! I didn’t mean stop smiling. I meant stop teasing me.”
Smiling again at this comment, Mick looked up again and back out towards the sea. Brian followed his gaze and they both sat silently for a while, just drinking in the view. After maybe half a minute Brian turned his head and studied the smile on his friend’s face. Eventually, becoming aware of the fact that he was being stared at, Mick looked quizzically back.
“What? Is there something on my face?”
“Nothing at all. Apart from a smile. And it’s so good to see you smile. You don’t do it often enough, you know? And when you do you’re a different person. Your whole face lights up. Sure, no one could stay sad when you smile. You shine like a beacon. It lights up everyone around you.”
“I don’t know about that. I’ve not had a lot to smile about in my life." Mick said, and then paused for a moment.
"But things do seem to have improved somewhat this past few years," he continued. I’ll be twenty-one next birthday. Twenty-one years old…” he mused. “Hopefully the next twenty-one will be better than the first.”
Brian took Mick’s right hand. Holding it between both of his, he looked him directly in the eyes.
“It will,” he said, with conviction. “You’re the one in control of your destiny now. You’re a good person, Mick. You deserve happiness.”
“Come on,” said Mick, changing the subject. “Let’s get back to the cottage. Those two little lovebirds should have finished what they were left alone for by now. We can tell them the good news and make plans over dinner.”
“How they can do it in this heat is beyond me anyway,” replied Brian.
“You’re just jealous, I reckon,” teased Mick.
“I am not jealous! Well okay... maybe I am a little. If only because they’ve managed to get what I don't seem to be able to.”
Brian paused for a moment.
“If only…” he continued, looking first into Mick’s eyes and then down at the ground.
Mick knew exactly what Brian was trying to say. The trouble was he didn’t really know how to reply - or even if he should. It was a subject that had been brought more than just a few times recently. He inwardly sighed at the fact that he didn’t yet feel able to give his best friend - the friend who had given him so much over the past couple of years while asking so little in return - the one thing that he knew he wanted above all else.
“Tell you what,” Brian continued, deciding not to press the subject. “How about we just have a light dinner? We could stop in at the supermarket on the way back and buy some stuff for a barbecue. Now wouldn’t that be a great way to end the night?”
“Or to start it. We could have the food before I sing.”
“Sounds like a plan to me. Come on. Let's head back to the car and start getting things organised.”
On the walk back both of them were lost in their own private thoughts. Brian would look across at Mick every now and then and metaphorically bite his tongue to stop himself from bringing up the one subject that he knew he shouldn’t, no matter how desperately he wanted to. He knew that tonight was an important one for Mick, and sensed that it wouldn’t be right to spoil things by putting him under any unnecessary extra pressure.
Mick on the other hand was only vaguely aware of his friend’s concern. He was too busy thinking back over the first twenty years of his life...
- 7
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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