At five o’clock in the gray light of predawn, Clay made his way across the dewy strip of grass between the resort and the little path that cut through the ridge of palm trees that stood before the sand. There were pebbles and stray leaves and sticks on the path, but his feet had been hardened by the dry earth of the outback long ago.
He’d pulled on shorts and a T-shirt, and the breeze off the water was cool and perfect. Sipping from his thermos of coffee, he headed south down the narrow, deserted strip of beach. The foliage to the right grew from just palm trees, thickening into dense bush as he passed the resort’s border. To the left, gentle waves met the beach and some rocks scattered just offshore with a low, rhythmic drone.
There wasn’t another soul in sight. Just the way he liked it.
Yet when a figure appeared a minute later back down the sand where he’d come from, Clay found himself smiling. He recognized Ethan’s slim build and long legs, and gave him a wave when he got closer. Wearing khakis and a T-shirt, Ethan waved back, carrying what tourists often called “flip-flops” instead of thongs in his other hand. Clay supposed the name was apt.
It took a couple minutes for Ethan to reach him, and when he did, he said, “Morning. Wow, this is amazing.” He dropped his thongs on the sand and looked out over the water. “It’s getting pink.”
“Just wait.” Clay poured some coffee into the lid of his thermos and offered it to Ethan. “It’s only black, so if you like anything fancy you’re out of luck.”
“If I what? Sorry, didn’t catch that.” Ethan fiddled with his hearing aids. “Might be better if I keep my back to the water. I can put on a different setting and it’ll block that noise out.”
Clay raised his voice a bit and was careful to enunciate more slowly. “You’ll miss the sunrise facing the trees. I said the coffee’s just black.”
“Oh! Um… I like it this way, actually. It’s perfect.” Their fingers brushed as Ethan took the lid and sipped before passing it back. He glanced around, then peered out to sea. “What’s that island?” Ethan pointed to the shadowy humps in the distance.
“Main one’s Dunk Island. Can’t remember what the others are called.”
“They kind of look like volcanoes out there. It’s cool.”
They stood there in peaceful silence as the pale yellow sky became both more blue and more pink. Light clouds covered much of the sky, turning a warm blush with patches of vibrant blue between them. The pink reflected on the ocean with a rosy glow, and Ethan made little sighing noises and took a bunch of pictures with his phone. He had long fingers, and Clay wondered if he played the piano, although for all he knew, finger length had nothing to do with it.
Ethan exclaimed, “It’s like the whole world is pink.” He watched with wonder, a smile playing at his lips, and the sunrise reflected in his eyes and across his pale, smooth skin. Clay was glad he’d told Ethan his secret. Ethan put his phone with his thongs and rolled his trousers to his knees before grinning at Clay and splashing into the surf.
“Watch the current!” Clay shouted. “It’s stronger down here than in the swimming area.”
Ethan didn’t acknowledge him, and Clay realized he probably hadn’t heard. It wasn’t like Ethan would go swimming since he had his clothes on and hearing aids in, but there were no nets this far down the beach.
As Ethan went in farther, the pink-lit water swirling almost to his knees, Clay had visions of a croc coming along for its brekkie. It wasn’t too likely in this area, but not impossible, especially during the wet.
And the next bloody moment, Ethan staggered back, wind-milling his arms before tumbling onto his arse. Clay was already racing toward him as the next swell neared, and he grabbed under Ethan’s arms from behind and scooped him up as the water flowed harmlessly around their knees, no crocs or jellyfish in sight. Still, Clay backed them up onto the sand, practically carrying Ethan.
Ethan’s back was pressed to Clay’s chest, and Clay had his arms locked around him. He shivered and let go, stepping back as Ethan turned. Ethan’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Shit, I cannot get my hearing aids wet. Thank you. I tripped on a rock.”
Clay nodded, his heart thudding. “Right. Also there aren’t any nets down this end. Crocs and jellyfish could be around.”
Eyes bugging out, Ethan whirled back to the water, then spun to face Clay. “Are you fucking with me?”
“No, mate.” Clay shook his head in case his words were lost. He tried to speak clearly. “Wouldn’t joke about that. The known croc habitats are all sign-posted, and it’s much more likely to come across one in the swamps and rivers a bit inland. But they do take people on beaches sometimes in Far North Queensland.”
Mouth open, Ethan stared. “Wow. I knew there were salt-water crocodiles, I just didn’t think…” He glanced back at the sea. “It’s so peaceful.” Then he looked down and backed up away from the water. “Are we safe here?”
“Yeah, no worries. It’s being in the water that’s the danger. Even knee-deep isn’t safe. They can take folks quite shallow.”
Ethan huffed out a laugh. “Are you saying ‘take’? You mean eat, right?”
Clay had to laugh too. “Yep. I guess it’s our polite way of saying it. Sharks and crocs ‘take’ people. Anyway, no harm done. Maybe just to your pride.”
“What’s that saying? That it goeth before a fall?” Ethan swiped at his arse, his face red in the fading pink sunrise, blue and yellow beginning to surge across the clouds. “Thanks for being there.” He smiled, but it didn’t hold. “Shit, I have to be careful. If my hearing aids got damaged…” He exhaled shakily. “Or, you know, if I got eaten by a freaking crocodile, it would kind of put a damper on things. Like my life, for starters.”
“And the paperwork would be a nightmare if I let a croc take a guest on my watch,” Clay deadpanned.
Ethan laughed genuinely, and Clay almost wanted to call him pretty when he smiled like that. Strange to think of a bloke that way.
Clay said, “Come on, let’s finish the coffee.” He mimed drinking when Ethan briefly furrowed his brow.
They walked a bit farther away from the water near the foliage, where he hoped the sound of the waves wasn’t so troublesome for Ethan. Ethan sat in his wet trousers, grimacing. Clay said, “Hang ’em up in the sun while you’re at brekkie and they’ll dry in no time.”
Minute by minute, the pink sunrise slipped away, and they watched in silence, passing the thermos lid back and forth. After a time, Ethan said, “This really was incredible. Best sunrise I’ve ever seen.”
“Fair dinkum? Well, I’m glad.” A little warm swell of pride filled Clay.
Ethan laughed delightedly. “You said it! Fair dinkum!”
Clay chuckled. “Suppose I did. You can take the boy out of the outback, but…”
“I feel like I’m so far away from home. I mean, I am. I’ve never been farther than Canada before, and this is a whole new world. New York in winter—it’s so gray and cold and, I don’t know. Blah. This is like paradise. With crocodiles and jellyfish, but still. Paradise. It’s been, I don’t know? What day is it even? New York almost feels like another lifetime.”
“Guess that’s a good thing. You can enjoy your holiday, despite everything.”
Ethan looked at the horizon, where the last vestiges of pink and yellow faded into blue. “Yeah. It’s strange, being here. It’s like I’m on the moon, and they’re on a distant planet.”
“They?” Clay asked, being nosy. In the silence that stretched out, Ethan sitting like a statue, he suddenly felt foolish and blurted, “You probably mean your family.”
Ethan’s throat worked as he swallowed forcefully. “No, actually. My Mom died when I was fourteen, and my dad a few years later. I’m an only child, and there’s not really anyone except my uncle and his family left. They’re cool, but we’re not super close or anything. And I have cousins, but they’re all spread out and no one really keeps in touch.”
Clay cursed himself for bringing it up. “Sorry to hear that.”
Shrugging, Ethan looked at his feet and dug his toes into the sand. “S’okay.” He didn’t clarify who he’d meant by “they,” and Clay sure as hell didn’t ask. “It was actually my mom who made me want to come to Australia. You know that old movie, Crocodile Dundee?”
Clay had to laugh. “I think I might have heard of it.”
Ethan laughed too. “I guess it was a big deal back then.”
“Yep, in those ancient times, it was a very big deal. I was still a kid when it came out, for the record.”
“Duly noted. Anyway, my mom had just come to the States from Switzerland with my grandmother. My mom was about nineteen, I think. She didn’t know anyone and hardly spoke English, and she became obsessed with that movie. Even, like, ten years later after she had me, she still loved Crocodile Dundee. It was like comfort food, you know? It’s one of the first movies I ever remember watching. My dad said when he first met her, he wasn’t sure where she was from because she had an Australian accent on some words. He was like, “What is this gorgeous Swiss-German-Australian doing in Buffalo? And how is she interested in a nebbishy Jew like me?” Ethan smiled fondly.
Clay chuckled. “Where’s Buffalo?”
“Where’s Buffalo?” Ethan repeated. When Clay nodded, he said, “Western New York. The state, not the city. Close to Niagara Falls and the Canadian border. I don’t even know how she and Oma ended up there. It was one of the coldest places with the most snow they could have picked, but I guess they were used to that. And it was definitely nowhere near Switzerland. They didn’t want to be anywhere near Europe.”
After sipping more coffee and passing the lid, Clay asked, “Why’s that?”
“Oh, my grandfather was an abusive alcoholic asshole. They moved to Germany first, and he followed them there, so they decided an ocean between them was a good idea.”
“Ah. Sorry to hear it.”
“Yeah.” Ethan swallowed some coffee and gazed out at the horizon. “I never met him, or anyone else on that side of the family. Mom was an only child. I guess it didn’t go down so well when she and Oma left? They didn’t like talking about it. They worked as maids in a hotel, and eventually my mom met my dad and had me. Ran her own private maid service with Oma where they cleaned people’s houses. It was really successful, and then Mom got sick.” He added with a flat tone, “Cancer. Oma died not long after her.”
“That’s rough, mate. Sorry to hear it.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” Ethan shrugged, his shoulders tight. “It is what it is, you know? Can’t change it. Anyway. Do you have a big family?”
“Big enough. Dad’s gone—killed in an accident out on the back roads. Fifteen years ago now.”
“I’m sorry.”
Clay nodded in acknowledgment. “Feels a long time ago now. Wasn’t always an easy man, but of course I miss him. As you said, it is what it is.”
Ethan nodded. “Yeah.” They smiled sadly at each other in recognition of their shared losses.
“Auntie Marg still lives here in Queensland; Uncle Eddie and Auntie Susan too. Lots of cousins. My sister Jen lives in Perth with her husband and kids, and our mum lives with her.” He breathed through the inevitable swell of guilt, even though with him being away so much, it wasn’t feasible for Mum to live with him and Sam. “She has early onset Alzheimer’s. She’s only sixty-three, but she can’t be left on her own.”
Ethan’s face creased with sympathy. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Wow. She’s so young.”
“She is. Married as a teenager like my grandparents before her. They only passed on in the last few years. Then I married young too. It seems to be changing a bit now, but in my town it was the norm.”
Some emotion flickered across Ethan’s face before he nodded and said, “Oh, I see.” It had looked like…disappointment? Strange. Ethan asked, “Do you visit Perth a lot? It’s pretty far.”
“It is, but the airlines have sales fairly regularly. I go over every two months or so. It’s a lovely place. Western Australia still has an untouched quality to it. Could imagine myself living there. We’ll see what happens.”
Ethan smiled softly. “Cool. I’m glad you get to see your mom fairly often.”
“Yeah.” He swallowed hard over the pang of grief. “Last time I visited, she didn’t recognize me at first. It’s a hell of a thing, when your own mum doesn’t know you. It’s like she’s already gone even though she’s not.”
He didn’t know why he was talking about this with a bloke who was practically a stranger. But the words had flowed out. There was just something about Ethan he trusted.
“I can’t even imagine.” Ethan put his warm hand on Clay’s forearm, those long fingers wrapping around comfortingly. Although the day was warming, Clay shivered. Ethan whipped his hand back and said, “Sorry. I’m not trying to…” He laughed anxiously. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
Clay shrugged, suddenly feeling awkward as well. “Not at all, mate.” He cast about for something else to say. “So that’s my family in a nutshell. And I’ve got the kids, of course.” He paused. “Did you get all that?”
Ethan smiled faintly. “I did, thank you. I really appreciate that you make the effort to talk slowly. It helps so much.”
Clay shrugged off the praise. “Reckon it’s just how I talk.”
“So you’ve got kids? That’s awesome!” Ethan glanced down, fiddling with his rolled-up pants and brushing sand from the dark hair on his legs.
Clay waited until Ethan was looking at him to say, “My son Peter’s twenty-four and off traveling. Avoiding settling down, but I shouldn’t begrudge him. Just wish he was a bit better with money. Samantha’s almost twenty-two and finishing uni in Sydney. Always been clever and at the top of her class. When I’m in Sydney we live together in a little rental house in Parramatta—one of the suburbs. We have a dog named Gilly. Part Australian shepherd and maybe Lab. We’re not sure. Every time I get back home he treats me like a conquering hero. That’s dogs for you, bless ’em.”
Ethan smiled, the breeze blowing his thick brown hair back off his forehead. “How old is he?”
“Not sure exactly. We found him abandoned on the side of the road last year with a broken leg. Poor bugger. Vet reckons he’s seven or eight. He was in a shocking state when we came across him. Very malnourished. But despite that, he’s such a softie; always eager for attention and love. So trusting, even after he’d been practically tortured. Still wish I could find whoever’d owned him. I’m not typically a violent man, but…”
“I don’t understand how people can be so cruel. I’m so glad you guys found him.” He was quiet a few moments, biting his full bottom lip and making it even redder. “And your wife’s in Sydney too?”
Ah, right. Clay’d almost forgotten. Funny how it seemed so long ago that they’d still been together in the Curry. “Divorced a couple years ago. Barb and I had a good run, I reckon. She’s remarried now and living in Christchurch. She met him online and decided she didn’t want to be married to me anymore.”
Again, Clay didn’t know why he was telling all this to Ethan. He normally didn’t talk to anyone this much. Not about things that mattered, at least. His skin felt too tight. It was embarrassing, that his wife had left him for another man. That Clay wasn’t enough.
Ethan’s eyes widened, and he looked so pained for a moment that Clay was about to ask if he was all right. Then Ethan asked, “So you were still together when your wife met that guy?”
Clay nodded, trying to laugh. “She’d had enough of me.”
“It’s not your fault,” Ethan said fiercely.
The tension eased, Clay’s fingers uncurling. He dug them rhythmically into the sand at his sides. “Suppose it’s no one’s fault, really.” That Ethan didn’t think poorly of him was an odd relief.
Ethan asked, “Did you see it coming?”
“Nah. We weren’t setting the world on fire, but we did all right. Had the kids and chugged along. I suppose once Pete and then Sam moved out… Well, Barb and I didn’t have much left to talk about. She got itchy feet. Wanted more than me or the Curry could give her. Can’t really blame her. It was a shock, but we’ve made the best of it.”
Ethan nodded. He opened his mouth, then hesitated. Picking up a pale white shell that was poking out of the sand and keeping his gaze on it, he asked, “Are you dating anyone now?”
Clay squirmed, his cheeks getting hot. His ex was remarried, and here he’d barely been on a date. Would Ethan think him pathetic? He considered making up a fake girlfriend in Sydney, but the notion of lying to Ethan soured his stomach. And why did he care so much about what Ethan thought?
He answered, “Nah. My daughter is always on me to use the dating apps and get out more. But I dunno. I’m busy with my job, and when I’m home I want to relax and spend time with Sam and Gilly.” He shrugged. “Reckon if the right woman comes along, it’ll be meant to happen.”
“Right. And I get why you’d be gun-shy. It hurts like hell to be cheated on.” He dropped his head and fiddled with the empty Thermos lid now, his long fingers tracing the round edges.
Ah. Clay didn’t ask, but his instincts told him this was at least part of what had happened with Michael Wong. Wanker. Granted, Clay had only just met Ethan, but if he were gay—
A sort of manic laugh rose up in him but didn’t break free. Of course he wasn’t, so he didn’t know why he was thinking nonsense. He refocused on his own breakup.
“To be fair, she hadn’t actually met Barry in person. But she was taken with him, and even if it hadn’t worked out with the two of them, she wanted more from her life.”
“Wow. So she just flew to New Zealand to be with him and they hadn’t even met?”
“No way. I drove her down to Brissie and made sure he was a decent fellow first. Brisbane, I mean.”
Ethan’s jaw dropped. “Did you say you took your wife to meet the guy she was leaving you for?”
Clay shrugged. “Had to make sure he wasn’t one of those lunatics you hear about.”
“Wow. How long was the drive to Brisbane from the outback?”
“From the Curry it’s about nineteen hours, give or take.”
“Holy shit! One way?”
“Yep.” Clay shrugged again, feeling self-conscious. “We’re used to long distances where I’m from. Maybe I’m a fool, but she was my wife. Had to make sure she’d be all right. Known her all my life, and we’d been together since she set her sights on me in school.”
Ethan looked at him like Clay had just hung the moon and stars. “You’re amazing.”
His face went hot, and he shrugged again, feeling strangely pleased. “I’m no saint, believe me. It hurt when she left, no question. It’s a hit to the pride, that’s for sure. But it was for the best. Took a while for me to see that, but it truly was.” He paused before he added, “It’ll get better, mate. I promise.”
For a moment, Ethan just looked back at him. His eyes glistened, and his lips trembled. Then he nodded, chest rising with a deep breath as he turned his gaze back to the water.
They sat in silence, the waves rolling in with a calming rhythm, the sun rising in the blue sky, the earlier clouds evaporating. Ethan traced designs in the sand with his finger, his bare arm brushing against Clay’s. Clay could have shifted over, but he didn’t.
After a time, Ethan turned his head back to Clay and asked, “Do you ever talk to her?”
“Oh yeah, once a week or so. Usually about whatever the kids are up to. Barb and I are still friendly. Like I said, I’ve known her since I was a boy. Would be strange not to know her at all anymore. I think that would be sad after everything. To have nothing left.”
“Where online did she meet him?”
“Wasn’t a dating site or anything.” Clay didn’t know if he was being defensive of Barb or himself. He didn’t want Ethan to think she’d been actively looking for someone else, that there’d been something wrong with him. Which was silly, but there it was. “They were chatting about a TV show—Dark Orphan.”
Ethan frowned for a moment. “Did you say Orphan Black?”
He laughed. “Right, that’s the one. Sci-fi was never really my cuppa, but Barb always loved it. Spaceships and clones and all that. Vampires and werewolves too.”
“What do you like?”
“Cricket, of course. A good footy match—or any footy match, really. And I enjoy shows about coppers.”
“Cop shows?” At Clay’s nod, Ethan said, “Me too! Have you ever seen Southland? It’s about cops in LA. I was kind of obsessed with it in college. Maybe partly because I had a raging crush on Ben McKenzie, but also because it was a really excellent show.”
“I’ll have to see if I can find it on Netflix or wherever.” Clay didn’t know who Ben McKenzie was, and wondered what he looked like. Not that it mattered. It surprised him how easily and openly Ethan talked about…gay things. It was good, though, that the world had changed.
After a few more quiet moments, Ethan asked, “So how old were you when you got married? You said you were young.”
“Didn’t seem like it at the time. Nineteen and out of school—getting hitched was usually the next thing you did in the Curry.”
Ethan frowned. “I’m sorry, what’s the town called?”
“Cloncurry’s the proper name. The Curry to locals. It’s a mining town—copper and gold. About eight hundred kilometers due west from Townsville, where we’ll have a rest stop tomorrow. Not a bad little place. There’s a river, so it’s not quite as dry as some places in the outback.”
“Is it crazy hot?”
Clay laughed. “That’s a fair description. In winter, it’s about…” He did a rough calculation to Fahrenheit. “Eighty degrees. Hundred in the summer. Or higher.”
“Whoa. How many people live there?”
“Around three thousand.”
Ethan’s eyebrows shot up. “Did you say three thousand?” At Clay’s nod, he said, “Wow, that really is small. How far were you from a city?”
“Not too far. A hundred and twenty kilometers east from Mount Isa.”
“How many people live there?”
Clay smiled ruefully. “About twenty thousand or so. Far cry from the Big Apple.”
Ethan laughed. “You could say that. Although New York is way too big for me. Too crowded. I never really wanted to live there, but…” He seemed to give himself a shake, then asked, “Did you have a lot of culture shock when you moved away from home?”
“Reckon I did, yeah. Only left two years ago, of course. Took my time.”
“You what?” Ethan squinted a bit.
Clay realized he’d dropped his face while he was speaking to screw the lid back on the empty Thermos. He looked straight at Ethan and repeated, “Took my time. Late bloomer, I guess.”
“It’s never too late. I believe that.” He nodded and repeated, “I believe that.”
“I’m living proof, mate. So’s Barb. She does this new-age thing now. Reiki. Bunch of mumbo-jumbo to me, but last time I saw her, she had a light in her eyes I hadn’t seen since she was a girl. She’d always dreamed of leaving the Curry, but I reckon she never thought she could. Not back in our time, at least.”
“You’re not that old.”
Clay scoffed. “Tell that to my lower back. But the world’s changed heaps since Barb and I were kids and got hitched. The internet barely existed, and we didn’t have it at home yet. We could count our telly stations on one hand. The world was so…far away. Forget the world. Bloody Brisbane seemed like the other side of the moon. Let alone Sydney or Melbourne.”
“I bet. Shiv said you were a mechanic?”
“Yeah. Worked on mining equipment with my old man most of my life. And utes sometimes.”
Ethan frowned. “What was the second thing?”
“Utes.”
Ethan’s brow was still furrowed. “Can you spell that?”
“U-t-e-s.” Then it dawned. “Sorry. You lot call them pickup trucks.”
“Ohhh.” Ethan laughed. “Gotcha. I’m sorry I interrupted.”
“No worries. Are you sure you still want to hear this? It’s not very exciting.” At Ethan’s enthusiastic nod, Clay went on. “Well, Dad had already passed on when Barb decided she was leaving, and Mum was in Perth with Jen. I didn’t much fancy the idea of staying by myself. Sam rang up and said she had a plan for me to move down to Sydney. She didn’t much fancy the idea of me left in the Curry on my own either.”
Ethan smiled. “She sounds like a good daughter.”
“Oh, she is. Sam’s a super daughter. The best a bloke could ask for.”
“You totally light up when you talk about her.” Ethan smiled. “It’s nice.”
“Do I?” He was faintly embarrassed, but what the hell. “We’ve always been close. Not that I wasn’t close with Pete as well. He’s a good lad. Not as responsible or clever as his sister, but of course I love the bludger.”
“You love…what?” Ethan frowned.
“Pete. He can be a bludger.” Ethan’s brow was still creased, so Clay added, “Likes partying more than working.”
“Right.” Ethan nodded. “I know the type. How did you start driving for DL?”
“The mum of one of Sam’s mates works in head office and mentioned that they were hiring. I decided since I was changing everything else about my life, might as well give it a whirl. It’s been good. The long hauls get tiring, though. Wouldn’t mind sticking to day trips in the future. Maybe even run my own little outfit. Get a minibus and take people out for the day. We’ll see.”
“What was the last part? Did you say you want to have your own tour company?” Ethan grimaced. “Sorry to make you repeat yourself.” He sighed heavily. “It’s such a fucking pain.”
Clay made sure to speak clearly. “It’s not a problem. Said I’d like to have my own minibus and do tours. Be my own boss.”
“Cool. I work in environmental accounting. Lots of numbers and spreadsheets and researching government regulations on energy and that kind of stuff. I’m stuck in an office, but most of the time I can just do my work without talking to people. That sounds nice, though—being your own boss.”
“Yeah. Reckon it could be good. We’ll see.” He squinted up at the sky. “We should get back for brekkie.”
“Right.” Ethan’s smile this time was small and grateful, a warmth filling his eyes in the rising sun. “Thanks for hanging out.” He rested his hand on Clay’s shoulder, and tingly gooseflesh spread. “Especially since this is your time off and everything.”
“Nah, it’s nothing.” He pushed to his feet, dislodging Ethan’s hand, his skin still feeling strangely warm.
Ethan stood too, laughing and lamenting his wet trousers as they walked back down the narrow stretch of sand. There were some people out now on the resort’s beachfront, the morning getting under way.
After a minute, Ethan said, “I’m glad you and your wife are still friends. I don’t know if I could do that.”
“Well, it’s not for everyone, mate. But Barb’s doing well with Barry. He’s a nice enough bloke. Bit of a prig, but she likes him. Barry hates it when people call him ‘Baz,’ so I do every time.” He grinned slyly. “Can’t help myself.”
Ethan burst out laughing. “Did you say ‘Baz’?”
“Yep. That’s what you call someone by the name of Barry. Baz, or Bazza.”
“That’s awesome.” They neared the hotel, and Ethan said, “That really was the best sunrise ever. And we had it all to ourselves.”
“It’s my little secret this time of year.”
A shy little smile tugged on Ethan’s mouth. “Thanks for sharing your secret with me.”
“No worries, mate. Anytime. I’m glad you liked it.” It really wasn’t a big deal—it wasn’t like he owned the beach. But as he went back to his room to get into uniform, Clay felt rather pleased with himself nonetheless.
