by Pene Henson
For three years, summer and winter, this view has been Claudie’s alone. She’s lived and worked under this span of the sky and hiked among the ferns and the scrub and the lush bush. She’s watched for dangers from fire and flood, from human encroachment, from sunburn. It’s beautiful, but it’s not an obvious beauty; there’s no sweeping coastline or mighty rock formations for tourists to ogle and photographers to capture. But there’s an immutability to the place, a vastness and permanence that sits alongside the sharp beauty found in tiny things. It’s only visible to those who wait. Claudie’s had plenty of time to do that.
Although it’s late, the air is still humid and warm against her skin. It’s unsettling, like a stranger’s heavy hand. Energy builds in Claudie’s bones and tightens her lungs. The storm’s broken for the time. The air is thick and electric.
The door swings open. “Hey,” Lien says as she steps out.
“Beautiful, yeah?”
“I’m starting to agree.”
They stand together without speaking. The clouds tumble across the sky, edged by the last rays of sunlight and heading east. A few distant stars brighten the gaps between the clouds. None of the stars are visible for long enough to point out to Lien and name, though Claudie can distinguish many of them now, more than she could before she moved here.
Claudie’s watched this same sky on clear nights, during crisp winters, and through storms. From the deck of the cabin the world is huge; it seems to go on forever. She’s always been tiny beneath it. Now, standing with Lien, the universe is less lonely. It’s also less safe.
The rain starts again and quickly becomes heavy. They head inside.
“I made, uh, I made us some dinner,” Lien says. She’s annoyed that her voice cracks. But Claudie’s intent and private. It was presumptuous, intrusive, to take over. Claudie’s eyes shift to Lien’s. Lien says, “I’m sorry. You were gone a while, and I couldn’t get in contact but I wanted to be helpful.”
Lien can almost see Claudie thinking. After a pause, Claudie says, “That was kind of you. Thank you.” She steps into the kitchen and grabs a glass from the cupboard. “You need a drink?”
Lien shakes her head. “No, thanks.” She’s relieved. In the kitchen, Claudie fills the glass and lifts it to drink. Her throat bobs as she swallows. Her shirt is short-sleeved and the sleeves stretch around her muscular shoulders. A tuft of hair pokes out under her arm. Lien looks away, which is stupid. But the tuft of dark hair is intimate. The sight of it is more personal than the perfectly bare underarms Lien is used to seeing on other women.
Lien’s mind flashes to other areas where Claudie might have hair. Claudie’s lived here for years. She’d hardly be having regular waxes with smiling women in clean white coats. Lien chews on her lip. She hasn’t touched a woman who’s “au naturel.” When Claudie glances up, Lien blushes as though Claudie might know what she’s contemplating. She clamps down on her thoughts.
Lien lights candles, and Claudie sets the table. They eat dinner there, one on either side, their own little version of domesticity. The room’s quiet around them as they talk.
“First CD I bought was Nirvana’s In Utero. My dad looked at me for a long time, then shook his head as if everything was falling apart. But when he heard it he understood. I played ‘Heart Shaped Box’ about a thousand times that month.”
Lien leans forward. “God, yes. ‘Heart Shaped Box’ was my favorite. My cousin burned it for me. I used to lie in bed when I was little and listen to it on my headphones over and over as though it had some deep meaning.”
“It does!” Claudie’s grin is amused and toothy.
Lien gasps and laughs at once. “Well, not that meaning. I was six.”
Claudie’s eyes are bright as her laughter joins Lien’s. Lien thinks, I could kiss you.
They’ve finished dinner. Claudie rinses the plates; she’s glad of the small space between her and Lien’s bright sincerity.
“I’m having a glass of wine,” Claudie says when she’s finished. “Do you want one?”
“Definitely.”
Claudia pours two tumblers full of her parents’ slightly questionable Shiraz.
“Did your dad really make this in the bath?”
Claudie laughs. “He has a bath he’s set aside in the cellar for the purpose. But I don’t think he uses it any more. He has this friend with a vineyard and now and then they get together and make a new blend no one’s ever wanted to try before.”
She hands Lien a glass at the table but takes hers to sit in the deep chair near the window. It’s a small room, though. She’s not far away.
“I like this one,” Lien says.
“My dad will be happy to hear that.”
“You don’t like it?”
“It’s grown on me.”
After a second glass, the wine goes down more easily.
“I’d love to hear you play again,” says Lien. She sounds formal. “I listen to a lot of music. And yours is something special. Will you play for me?”
Claudie considers her. “Pick your poison,” she says, gesturing at the instruments on the wall.
“Which one’s your favorite?”
“I want you to choose,” says Claudie.
It’s not intended as a test. Not really. But Lien passes. “The acoustic six string please.”
“Why that one?”
“It’s obviously important to you. I love hearing people play an instrument that has a history in their hands.”
Claudie picks it up. She plays something she’s been working on first, a piece with some tricky countermelodies and a constant thwacking bassline. Lien’s focused gaze thrums in Claudie’s veins.
“Are there vocals?” Lien asks.
Claudie hesitates. This is too much. But Lien’s face is bright and sweet. It’s a joy to play for someone who wants to hear. A joy, too, that it’s Lien rather than a koala or a passing snake. Claudie smiles to herself.
She starts playing again and sings along, keeping her voice soft below the thrum of the guitar.
Lien tips her head. Her face is intent. “I know your voice,” she says, soft.
Claudie freezes.
“You were the lead singer of that band, that—Grand Echo.” Claudie doesn’t answer. Lien’s frowning. “Weren’t you?”
Claudie puts the guitar back in its place. “I was,” she says.
When she sits, Lien’s studying her through careful eyes.
“You don’t have to stop playing,” she says.
Claudie doesn’t say anything.
“Sorry. Okay.” Lien takes a breath. “Sorry.” Her smile defuses the moment. “Guess I’m washing up then.”
It was stupid to play, Claudie thinks. Stupid to try to impress this sunny, fashion-conscious girl the weather dumped in the cabin.
She goes to dry dishes.
After the washing up is finished, Lien says, “You don’t want me to apologize. But I am sorry I made you uncomfortable. It wasn’t intentional. I’d never seen you guys perform. And I didn’t see you perform live. But you were on my playlists. So it just… when I heard your voice I had to say something.”
“That’s okay,” says Claudie. “It makes sense.” Claudie’s discomfort is not Lien’s fault.
Lien sits in one of the chairs.
“Thank you for playing for me. I enjoyed it.”
Claudie sits. She might be exposed, but part of her is grateful. Part of her is amazed she could make it through a song. Part of her hates that this one girl can make everything different.
“I’ll play for you again,” she says. “Later. If you want. I just needed a break.”
6
It’s easier to share a bed now. They keep space between them but it’s not awkward. It’s easier to share a morning, too.
Late in the afternoon, Claudie steps out to check on her s
hed’s waterproofing. Lien borrows her phone. It’s black; heavy and old-school and not in a hipster way. It’s also still three-quarters charged so there must be benefits to ancient technology. Lien sits cross-legged on one of the chairs in the living room as she calls Beau. The color fades from the sky, blue to creamy pink. The treetops shift from green to muted gold and gray. The scene is soft and achingly lovely, despite the vastness. White birds circle the treetops, squawking, then settle down.
She dials Beau’s number. “Hey, babe,” Lien says when he finally answers.
“Li! Hi! I was beginning to think you’d forgotten us altogether.”
“No, no. Of course not. I don’t want you to feel like that. Sorry. We don’t have a lot of battery charge, and this isn’t my phone.”
“Li. I’m not mad. Just glad to hear from you.”
“Is everything okay for you guys?” Country towns can be hostile to people like Beau and Kam and Megan.
“We’re great. All good. Aside from having to shower in the Visitor Information building. How are you? Can you talk for a second?”
“For a second, yep. I’m good. I’m okay. Yeah.” She’s not quite sure how to explain how she is.
“Your knee’s still messed up?” Beau sounds concerned. Lien wishes they were in the same room.
“It’s fine. I mean, it’s okay. But that’s not the problem. The weather means I’m stuck here until the road’s not flooded.”
Beau hums. “Bummer. I’m sorry, Li. It must be awkward.”
“It’s not like that. Not at all. It’s fine. There’s… I don’t know. There’s stuff to do. I like it.”
Beau’s voice is high with surprise. “Oh. Good, then. Are you stuck in that creepy cabin we could see from the campsite?”
“That’s the one. It’s not creepy from the inside, though. I wish you could see.”
“Me too.”
“I miss having my phone.”
“I’ll bet.”
“But enough about me, are you guys doing okay?” Lien tries to imagine what it’s like. “Did the campsite get washed away? Is that why you’re in town?”
“Not quite. The site’s on pretty high ground. That first night some of us slept in our cars. But Raf and Matty managed to keep their tent up. So to speak.”
“I don’t want to know!” Lien laughs.
“And then we rebuilt tent city in the rain the next day. It was miserable. You should have seen us. We got everything up just in time for the rangers to come and get us. But it was a relief. We’re staying in the community center here. There are beds and everything. It’s weird. But it was good of them.”
“What have you all been doing?”
“Playing a fucking lot of card games. Did you know your girl Annie’s a secret poker shark? We had a drink at the local bar last night. They stared at us like we were from outer space for the whole first half hour. But they have some good vegetarian nachos. So there’s that. And Megan and Matty got to dueling on the piano in the corner. It was mostly in tune, and some of the guys here love a sing-along. All these white cis men singing along with ‘Working Class Man’ and ‘Downeaster Alexa,’ you know. Annie made Matty promise not to play any hip-hop.”
“Yeah, that would have been a nightmare. It all sounds, um, interesting.”
“It kind of is. Plus, we’ve been getting to know one another better.” Lien imagines his sly smile.
“A wild guess you’re talking about you and Annie?”
“Yeah.” His tone warms Lien to her toes.
“Lots to talk about?” she says.
“Yeah.”
He sounds dreamy, and Lien laughs, but an image flashes in her head, the two of them together like that and learning one another’s skin, finding one another’s pleasure. It stings in a lonely way. “I’m happy for you,” she says. And she means that, too.
“Thank you, love.” Beau’s voice is deep and warm. He moves on. “So. Tell me about this ranger woman. Thank fuck she found you. But what’s it like? Is she cool? A bore? Some kind of hippie?”
“No. It’s all good.”
“Oh, wait a sec, has this woman kidnapped you?”
“No, Beau.”
He pauses. She’s not sure if he’s joking as he goes on. “Okay, look. I know she’s listening in. So if you want to tell me something that’s going on then, um. Do something you’d never do. Like. I don’t know. Call me something cute. Like baby or champ or something.”
“I’ve probably called you champ. I went through a champ phase.” She frowns. She’s pretty sure she calls him baby all the time, too. But it’s not important. She hasn’t been kidnapped. “Beau. Honestly. It’s nothing like that. Anyway she’s not listening in; she’s out in the shed.” Lien blushes and she’s not really sure why. She stops talking. Starts again. “It’s nice.”
Beau’s not easy to divert. “It’s nice? What are you—Lien Hong. Do I detect—Do you have a crush? I know, I know. She’s could walk in at any time. How about you knock once for yes and two for no?”
“Beau.” Lien giggles. “What am I going to knock on, you fruitcake?”
That silences him for a second. “Well, okay. Hey, Annie’s hanging around looking like she has something to say.”
“Hi, cutie,” says Annie.
“You are,” Lien replies.
“You have to tell me everything. What’s Beau talking about? What’s she like, this mysterious ranger of yours?”
Lien draws breath. “She’s fine. Normal. Nice. She’s all park ranger and competent.”
“Oh. I see. Competent, hey?” Annie teases.
“No, that’s not what I mean. It’s been kind of fun. We’ve cooked and fixed stuff and talked mostly. We talked about music a lot. Oh, hey, guess what? She used to play for Grand Echo. You know. The indie band. They were big in Sydney when we were in Uni.”
Annie gasps. “Lien! You were rescued by Claudie Sokolov?”
“Yeah.” She should have known Annie would remember Claudie’s name…
Annie sighs. “They were great. I remember that one video they did. And I saw them live a couple of times, while you were over abandoning me in Singapore. Claudie Sokolov… The girl is hot. Well, she was back then.”
“Annie,” Lien protests.
“Well, she might be old now. Not that I have anything against that. But please don’t tell me that she got old and lost her sex appeal.”
Lien pauses. “Nope,” she says.
Annie chortles.
“I meant she’s not old,” says Lien. “And even if she were—” Annie’s laughing. Lien imagines her with her head thrown back. Annie has a great laugh.
She hears Beau take the phone.
“Of course,” he says. “Unbelievable. Our little Lien picked up a rock star.”
Lien blushes. “I know. It’s sort of… it’s a bit. I wish you were here.”
Beau’s tone softens. “But you’re okay. Yeah?”
“Apart from the knee I’m fine, Beau. Really.”
“We’ll see you soon. Love you.”
Claudie didn’t find a problem in the shed, which is a relief. She comes up the stairs and finds Lien in the main room. Lien turns away from the window. “Hey,” she says.
“Hey.” The day is brighter now. The clouds have lifted high; their undersides are curved and bright in the clear gray light. “Seems like the rain’s clearing. But it’ll still be a couple of days before the road opens.”
Lien nods. She’s obviously become used to the idea that she’s stuck here with Claudie rather than having fun with her friends in town. At least she doesn’t seem frustrated about being here anymore.
They have little they need to do. After breakfast Claudie heads out for an hour. She drives part way down the road then hikes in toward the upper section of the creek. The flow is still high; the green water t
wists and turns up the creek banks. She walks farther to check on what she can see of the upper estuary and the little natural dam that shapes the area. She buzzes Shelley.
“I’m at the upper section of Iron Pot. All okay here. Lucky as I can’t bring any equipment in.”
The radio crackles. “Great news. Thanks for checking it out.”
“No worries. Pretty sure it’s my job.”
Back at the cabin, Lien’s sitting on the deck with her back propped against the cabin wall and her muscular legs stretched out before her. Claudie lets her gaze trace down Lien’s bare legs. She lowers herself to sit beside Lien. It’s sunny. The wood is warm under their bodies, steaming as it dries. Claudie leans on one bent knee; her attention is somewhere between the brightening sky and the girl.
“All your rangering done for the day?” Lien asks.
“Sure is.”
“Good.” Lien leans back. Her skin is warm gold in the sunlight. “It’s incredible here. Though I guess you’re used to it.”
A few days ago Claudie would have agreed. Yes, she’s used to being here. But everything is new now she’s seeing it with another person. “Sometimes,” she says. “Those clouds are altostratus.” She points.
Lien repeats the name. “They’re beautiful,” Lien says.
Claudie smiles. It’s true, the clouds are beautiful, scudding and rippling away mid-height in the sky. Watching them with Lien makes them fascinating. So many different things interest Lien.
“So tell me about your job,” Claudie asks. “You write about music?”
Lien pulls her lower lip into her mouth. She’s blushing. “Mostly I write about parties.”
“Parties?”
“Parties and clubs. You know, where to go. Who’s there among the crowd, what they’re wearing. I write about the music too. And fashion. I mean, I’m not just a gossip reporter.”
Claudie tamps down her disappointment that Lien isn’t some prodigy Rolling Stone music reviewer. It’s not as though Claudie needs a music reviewer these days. But she’s impressed with Lien and wants her to be amazing. “You don’t need to be embarrassed. It sounds cool. Not like anything I could do, really.”