Gibb River Road

by Damian Maher

  Gibb River Road

  DAMIAN MAHER

  Copyright © 2017 Damian Maher

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the author constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the author at: this.onething@yahoo.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights. ISBN-13: 978-1535041430

  ISBN-10: 1535041439

  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, North Charleston, SC

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, establishments, or events is purely coincidental.

  Any literary work that honestly depicts human nature must be far more than a pretty picture of traditional values. This book contains sexually explicit scenes of a homosexual nature and scenes of suicidal ideation, which may be uncomfortable for some readers. Not suitable for readers under 18 years of age.

  DEDICATION

  It’s been fifteen years since we stopped searching. I dedicate this book to RV, the love of my life.

  1 IN THE CENTER OF NOWHERE

  Where the hell am I? Jacob tried to gather his thoughts as he was getting off the plane in Darwin. It was a long flight. A day and a half, not counting the one stop in Singapore. Sleep-deprived, he felt groggy as the north Australian heat and humidity hit him. It must be morning in England, he thought with a yawn. In Darwin it was 5:00 p.m., and the sun was already setting. Are we behind or ahead of the time in England?

  After checking into a hotel in the Darwin City Centre, he went to the terrace bar to have a drink. He would have preferred to get some sleep, but he did not know what to do with the tension that was causing pain in his muscles. A drink was the only way he knew how to help himself at the moment.

  “A large beer, please,” he said to the waiter.

  He noticed that there were a few other hotel guests on the terrace, and the sound of their conversation was soporific. While he sipped his beer and observed the sea through the palm leaves that enclosed the hotel terrace, feeling profoundly tired of life, he soon fell into a passive, somnolent state.

  Suddenly, the reality of his actions pierced his mind. What have I done? What have I done! What am I doing in Australia? His anxiety became unbearable, almost suffocating him, although consciously he chose not to obey the demands of reality anymore. Only in such brief moments, because he had been told to do so from early on, he felt an impulse to be responsible and to fight. Shall I take my life into my hands again? was the intrusive and seemingly redundant question. No! It was enough. Too much has happened in my life. I don’t want to fight anymore. After he had decided to end his life, he had felt a strong sense of relief, and he hated these doubts more than if they were worms in his head.

  He slipped into a meditative state of mind again, somehow content that he had managed to silence the annoying voice of reason. Reason is one thing, but the hurt and the painful feelings are another, Jacob reassured himself.

  *

  As he entered the foyer of his hotel room, William dropped his heavy suitcases, carefully locked the door so he could feel safe, and threw himself onto the bed. The flight from London to Singapore had been okay; what had nearly killed him had been the last segment, from Singapore to Darwin. He was tired in a way he hadn’t even known existed: everything around him might as well have been a dream. He could easily have fallen asleep, but he didn’t want to yet. He knew himself enough to know that he needed human contact before he went to sleep. That, and the excitement of being in Australia for the very first time, gave him a burst of energy. I’ll go to the bar to have a drink before I fall into bed. Maybe I’ll find someone to talk to.

  As he entered the terrace of the hotel, William noticed a man he had been observing during the last flight. Although the man had been sitting by the opposite window, William couldn’t take his eyes off him. He had watched the man staring blankly at the clouds, constantly trying to stretch his masculine legs. He admired the man’s well-proportioned, naturally muscled body, and his short black hair. He wore short jeans and a simple T-shirt, nothing fancy. To William he looked like the kind of person that everybody on the plane would like to sit next to. He certainly envied the woman having a conversation with him from time to time and assumed that she was his wife, although they didn’t talk much. He is watching the same clouds, but from the other side , William had thought.

  Based on the expression on his face, this man, who was now sitting alone on the hotel terrace, struck him as sad and desperate. William felt attracted to his masculine, negligently groomed appearance and his dramatically beautiful lips, but what appealed to him most was the boyishness that radiated through the image of a beaten man. He instantly saw a boy, if not a child, in him and felt the need to make this child happy. At least I can try to put a smile on his face, William thought as he spontaneously decided to ask whether he might join the man.

  “Didn’t you arrive tonight by the evening plane from Singapore? I thought I saw you?” William tried to appear surprised .

  “Can I help you?” the man responded in as unfriendly a manner as possible, obviously trying to push the intruder away.

  “May I join you? I could do with some company while having my beer,” William said, starting to feel more confident because he had begun to see through the man’s rough appearance; he might seem to be a rough character on the outside, but in contrast, his big, warm eyes screamed that he would not be unpleasant. As William entered the terrace, he might have noticed this man’s physical beauty and strength, but in fact he had first seen his warm eyes. They touched him deeply, as if there were an ocean behind them.

  “Well . . .” Jacob squirmed. He didn’t have the energy to cope with the situation.

  “I’m William. William Jordan. They sometimes call me Will.” He offered his hand and then took a seat.

  “I’m Jacob. Jacob Hammersley. And they call me—Jacob,” he said scornfully, looking away and not even trying to hide the fact that he would have preferred to be alone.

  “Tired, aren’t you?” William asked, after ordering a large, cold beer.

  “I guess so.”

  “It’s getting dark so early here. The day must be at least three hours shorter than in England. I didn’t know that.”

  “Are you from London? I never noticed you on the plane from Singapore,” Jacob said, suddenly showing some interest.

  “Yes. Are you a Londoner as well?” William asked.

  “ There’s not much left that would hold me there,” Jacob said with a sigh.

  “Oh, is that so? Why?” William asked.

  Instead of answering, Jacob looked down, holding his beer, saying nothing.

  “How old are you?” William asked, saying the first thing that came to his mind.

  “Thirty-one,” Jacob said.

  “I’m twenty-eight. I see you must be even taller than I am; usually I’m the tallest one in the room,” William said.

  “I know that feeling. The scar on my forehead is not from the door arch, though,” Jacob said, for he must have noticed that William had been staring at it.

  “How did it happen, then?” William asked.

  “Once, years ago, some boy molested my girlfriend. It turned out he was stronger than I thought. I ended up hitting the table. There was some blood, but nothing a few stiches wouldn’t fix.”

  “That was a very honorable thing to do.” William tried to prevent himself from touching the scar. Noticing that Jacob had started
to enjoy the conversation, he forgot his uneasiness about being alone in Australia. There is something essential that connects us, he thought, and somehow he was sure that in this unexpected and unusual moment, Jacob was thinking the same. We recognized each other on a human level.

  “Oh well . . . any man would defend a woman,” Jacob said, trying to appear humble, but from the way he smiled briefly, William noticed that he liked the admiration.

  “Why did you come to Australia?” William asked. “If that’s not too personal?”

  “ I know what my goal is, but I have no idea what to do or where to go,” Jacob said.

  “Are you here professionally?” William asked.

  “Yes and no,” Jacob answered.

  “Oh?”

  “I’m a herpetologist,” Jacob finally managed to say after the silence started to become unpleasant. “I’m mostly interested in poisonous snakes. And my great-grandfather on my mother’s side was born here. I’ve always wanted to see this land.”

  “How very interesting! I was always fascinated by snakes,” William said. “Which is the most poisonous snake in Australia?”

  “The most poisonous? Well . . . there are many . . . There is one, but I can’t remember its name just now,” Jacob said.

  “Okay,” William said hesitantly. A herpetologist who doesn’t know the name of the most poisonous snake in Australia? It’s the taipan, for God’s sake! Everyone knows that!

  “And what are you doing here?” Jacob asked. To William it seemed that he wanted to divert the conversation, but he also sensed that Jacob really did want to know.

  “Six months ago I booked a fourwheel-drive mobile home and the plane tickets, but this trip didn’t turn out at all as it was meant to.”

  “How come?”

  “I’m alone here. My boyfriend left me just a week ago.”

  “Are you gay?” Jacob asked, surprised. “I would never have guessed you were gay!”

  “Yes. Very much so. I am very gay,” William said, starting to make fun of himself. He had accepted being gay, but around hetero hunks, he felt uncomfortable. “I can make what is probably the gayest song in the world even gayer,” William said and started to sing the song “I Like Chinese” in French, J’aime Chinois, J’aime Chinois. That is the virtue of my nature. I am gay, hugely gay, and so be it! I hope you don’t have problems with that?”

  “No. I have nothing against gays. I have been married, though . . . so . . .” Jacob said, blushing.

  William noticed a certain discomfort in Jacob’s voice. Was this performance of mine too much of a shock for him?

  Although rationally he knew better, dozens of experiences, from his earliest childhood on, had instilled in him the belief that he was an abnormal, unworthy freak of nature, whom people pretended to accept only out of politeness. To him it felt as if the internalized homophobia whispered, Of course, you’re okay, but we all know very well that you’re not!

  “It doesn’t matter whom we love: a man, a woman, a transsexual, a pansexual, a whatever-sexual. Love is love!” William said, trying to quiet this dark rejection of his own truths.

  “I do believe that,” Jacob said seriously.

  “On the surface most people do acknowledge that, but they are also usually thinking, You are allowed to exist, but you better not act upon it. It’s okay to be gay, but it’s not natural. We can accept you, but you are not to adopt children. You are equal, but marriage should be between a man and a woman—you can register yourselves! And so on and so on. Isn’t that so?”

  “I’m truly sorry for that,” Jacob said.

  “Yes. But. Yes. But. Yes. But. Yesbut! Yesbut! We are Yesbuts. Gays are Yesbut people!”

  “ Okay, Yesbut. I’ll call you Yesbut. Or, better still: Yeebeecoocoo, to sound more Australian,” Jacob said, and they both laughed. “What happened with your partner, William?” Jacob then asked seriously.

  “Oh, he always used to speak to me so lovingly and so tender-sad, but it was obviously all an act. He didn’t love me. He clung to me because I supported him financially. It’s not that I had much money; I work as a substitute English teacher. He found himself a rich sugar daddy.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  “I ended up alone, but the tickets and the car for this travel were already booked. I thought it would be such a pity to waste an opportunity like that, so I decided to travel to Australia alone. The big fourwheel-drive mobile home was very expensive, but it’s able to cope with the roughest road conditions in the Outback. This car is supposed to be better than a flying carpet. I don’t know how I’ll manage it alone.”

  “You need a car like that if you want to roam the Outback on your own,” Jacob said. “I know that. I traveled that way across America.”

  “When are you returning to London?” William asked.

  “I don’t know. I only bought a one-way ticket,” Jacob murmured. “Yeah, I might very well stay here!”

  William noticed the sadness that quickly overtook the boyish sparkles that appeared in Jacob’s eyes when he was talking about his fourwheel-drive experiences. Every time William looked into Jacob’s eyes, he was afraid that he might lose himself in them, and he quickly looked away. Then he had to look into Jacob’s eyes again; he couldn’t resist.

  “ I can’t be alone. I have a tendency to be hard on myself, and I turn to dark thoughts when alone. Would you by any chance be interested in driving with me through Gibb River Road to Broome and share the costs for the car? I mean, as a herpetologist . . . surely there are snakes there . . .”

  “That sounds interesting,” Jacob blurted out and then flinched, surprised by his own words.

  He’s probably thinking that a trip with a stranger might be a disaster, William thought, interpreting Jacob’s facial expressions.

  “We can share the car and see how it goes. If it doesn’t turn out well, you can still rent your own car,” William said.

  “Oh, God . . . I don’t know whether this is wise . . .” Jacob said with a sigh.

  “Don’t worry about the Outback! The only really troublesome journey is the one within,” William said, paraphrasing Rainer Maria Rilke.

  “Oh, the inner journey . . . for me it is . . . I hope I’ll dream of my wife and my daughter tonight,” Jacob said.

  “I have no one to dream of at the moment,” William replied with a shaky voice, quickly collecting himself. “I have to pick up the car tomorrow morning. Shall we meet at breakfast and then take a cab to the rentals?”

  “Okay. What about six o’clock?” Jacob proposed, already adopting a rough Outback hunk’s manner.

  “What? That’s inhuman! Would 8:00 a.m. be okay?” William asked.

  “Okay, then. 8:00 a.m.,” Jacob agreed.

  After that, they didn’t talk much as they finished their beers.

  We are both trying to escape, each for a different reason, William thought as he tried to observe his new friend without him noticing. Neither of us is too passionate about life. The good thing is that less fear means a greater proclivity for adventure . He smiled.

  As they went to their rooms, William simply knew that they were connected and that it could not be otherwise.

  Not much happened that evening, yet their future was set.

  *

  With the nauseated feeling of an emerging headache, Jacob woke up from a sleep filled with nightmares. Since the tragedy that had changed his life, he feared mornings. He would have preferred to stay in the dark, since the power of a beautiful, emerging day made the pain in his soul even sharper. In the days after he had lost what was dearest to him, avoiding anything bright and positive made it easier for him to live with his memories. He had decided to go to Australia to find the wilderness and figure out some “natural” way to end his life. He was relying on the fact that in the Outback the chance of being bitten by a deadly snake was very high. He hoped that pain and death would finally smother the agony in his soul. Shall I cancel the agreement with William? was the first questio
n that arose in the morning. I want to end my life, and the last thing I want in this situation is a fucking faggot singing around me. He could not understand why he had agreed to William’s suggestion, but when he was talking with William, saying no had not even been an option.

  Now, with the pain radiating in his head, he had to face the consequences. I’ll have to tell him that I cannot do it. Because . . . my plans suddenly changed and because— It was half past seven when he dragged himself from bed and took a shower. Strangely, although he did not have any strength left, he shaved and took his best T-shirt from his suitcase, managing to come to the dining room a few minutes earlier than they had agreed. As he entered the dining room, he saw William sitting at an empty table, playing with a coffee spoon.

  “Good morning, William. Nothing for breakfast?” he asked. He had decided to end this adventure, but his unintentionally friendly voice surprised even him and revealed that he was glad to see William.

  “I waited for you. I thought we’d have breakfast together.” William seemed energetic and lively, and he almost overwhelmed Jacob with the power of his energy. As he smiled, Jacob noticed his clear green eyes.

  “You waited for me? You shouldn’t have,” Jacob said.

  “We are traveling together now, remember? That’s why I waited for you,” William said.

  “I wanted to talk with you about—” Jacob tried to break the unpleasant news, but William interrupted him.

  “You look good this morning, now that you have shaved. But still, you look as if you didn’t sleep much.”

  “ Thank you, I guess. Anyway, shall we check out the buffet? My head needs some coffee,” Jacob said.

  “Oh, you drink it the way I do: milk, no sugar, huge quantities,” William observed as he watched Jacob pour himself a cup of coffee.

  “Yeah, huge quantities,” Jacob said. He noticed that William looked even more attractive because he had neglected to shave. And walking behind him, he found himself liking William’s wet, sweet-smelling brown hair. Where does he get this energy from? Jacob wondered.