by Lisa Glass
Garrett, Wes and Zeke stood together on the beach. Dave was there, supported by Sephy. Elijah was there too, standing next to Kelly, who had a rented swell board under her arm. Anders and Saskia were in Florida, meeting with a few New Smyrna Beach surfers that had started to get attention, but they both sent bouquets of roses, which we stripped for petals.
I went up to Kelly, and Elijah turned to me and said, ‘How’s Zeke doing?’
‘Devastated.’
‘Garrett too,’ Kelly said. ‘He’s been telling me all these stories about her and then he gets angry when it makes him cry. He couldn’t sleep properly so he’s smoking this rank bloody weed to try and make himself all calm and chill, but I think it’s actually making him worse. He’s all over the place.’
I nodded. Kelly would help him though. She was really good at striking a balance between tough love and sympathy and it seemed to me that Garrett needed both.
‘What about Wes?’ I asked Elijah.
‘I dunno really. Shut down. Not saying much at all. I just wish he’d let me in, you know? But he won’t. Says he can handle it. He’s so self-contained it drives me mental. It’s like he doesn’t trust me enough to let down the walls. He hasn’t cried once. But he’s hardly eating, and I caught him necking vodka on the sly.’
‘Just be patient,’ Kelly said. ‘He’ll open up when he’s ready.’
‘Don’t think so. If anything, this has made him pull away from me even more.’
‘He knows you care about him.’
‘Does he? I don’t think he has any bloody idea. It’s like he finds the whole concept of two guys caring about each other absolutely excruciating. Yesterday, I said, “Wes, I really love you,” and he just looked at me and said, “Mahalo.” Then he went surfing.’
‘Ouch,’ I said, remembering the many, many times that Daniel had pulled that sort of thing with me.
‘Do you think he’s going to tell his folks about you?’ Kelly said.
‘Probably not. He hates confrontation and is scared to death of any big emotional scene that might involve, you know, feelings being talked about. I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this. He acts so weird in public. I have to stay like two feet away from him at all times. I touched his hand in the Central last week and he flinched so hard he almost choked on an ice cube. So now we practically never leave my flat.’
‘He wants to move in with you though, and he invited you here today, right?’ I said. ‘That’s gotta mean something.’
‘Dunno what,’ Elijah said. ‘All I know is that I can’t stand being put in the closet again. I already busted out of it once.’
Kelly took Elijah’s hand, and I could see the strain in his eyes. She gave him a long hug and then we all turned to look at the three brothers, grouped so closely together — Zeke gesturing and shouting something to Sephy, Garrett sucking on a cigarette and Wes waxing his board — and I thought about how they’d totally changed our lives. It was scary to think how grey my days would have been if Nanna hadn’t moved back to Newquay. I’d never have met the Francis family; they’d just be another lot of strangers living their lives in a foreign country that I’d probably never visit.
A bunch of kids joined our group and looked around, waiting for someone to give the sign to start. There were silver surfers present too, who didn’t look much younger than Nanna. Maybe they had even tandem-surfed with her back in the day.
After twenty minutes there were at least a hundred surfers gathered for Nanna. Dave thanked everyone for being there for his amazing mum. Then he gave the nod and we all paddled out together.
It took a while for so many of us to get into the right position, but eventually we’d made a wide circle.
Dave wanted his family to read out a poem that Nanna had loved. We’d all been given a line to recite, even me, Kelly and Elijah. We’d practised in the morning, and we had our lines scribbled on the noses of our boards.
The poem was ‘The Deep’ by John G.C. Brainard, and it went like this:
There’s beauty in the deep: —
The wave is bluer than the sky.
And though the light shine bright on high,
More softly do the sea-gems glow.
That sparkle in the depths below.
The rainbow’s tints are only made
When on the waters they are laid,
And Sun and Moon most sweetly shine
Upon the ocean’s level brine.
There’s beauty in the deep.
There’s music in the deep: —
It is not in the surf’s rough roar,
Nor in the whispering, shelly shore –
They are but earthly sounds, that tell
How little of the sea-nymph’s shell,
That sends its loud, clear note abroad.
Or winds its softness through the flood,
Echoes through groves with coral gay,
And dies, on spongy banks, away.
There’s music in the deep.
There’s quiet in the deep: —
Above, let tides and tempests rave,
And earth-born whirlwinds wake the wave.
Above, let care and fear contend,
With sin and sorrow to the end:
Here, far beneath the tainted foam,
That frets above our peaceful home,
We dream in joy, and wake in love,
Nor know the rage that yells above.
There’s quiet in the deep.
Sephy sang a Polynesian song about love, her voice sounding out over the water as clear as if she had a microphone, and the rest of us threw handfuls of sunset-coloured petals into the sea.
Dave paddled into the middle of our circle and upturned a bag of ashes on to the water, where they glistened in the sunlight, silver and perfect, before melting away.
Then, we surfed.
chapter thirty
The Nike Night Surf Amateur Men’s Event was gearing up. Locals were invited to compete, and Elijah, Wes and Garrett had entered. Zeke, as a sponsored professional surfer, was excluded. Dave worked as a paramedic and had to do a night shift, but Sephy, Zeke and I had come out to watch and cheer.
Wes had arrived earlier in the evening and had already paddled out by the time we got there. Garrett hadn’t suited up yet, but was up to his knees in the sea over by the rocks, watching Wes surf. Garrett was smoking the biggest spliff I’d ever seen, which maybe wasn’t that clever, since a ton of photographers with long lenses were hard at work in the shallows and he was standing right in the middle of them.
It was almost eleven o’clock, but the whole of North Fistral was lit up with floodlights, chill-out dance music was blaring through the PA system and, in the freakily windless night, the smoke of countless barbecues was drifting like sea fog. Plenty of kids were out with their parents, and hundreds of surfers were gathered outside Fistral Blu Beach Bar, huddled under the patio heaters, drinking beer. All in all, it seemed like a perfect night to watch some kick-ass surf tricks.
I caught Zeke staring longingly down at the break, and I couldn’t blame him. The sea looked fab: the surf was heavy and clean, the tide was in and the breakers were glowing neon green and luminous white in the phosphorescent lights.
Zeke had driven us there, and he was probably the only person to actually pay for parking that night, as one of the surfrats was dishing out lines of black electrical tape to cover up number plates, so the Parking Eye cameras couldn’t catch out any motorists and slap them with an eighty-quid fine.
‘But parking costs, like, one pound for the whole night!’ Zeke said, laughing, as he slid his quid into the parking-meter slot.
So that we wouldn’t drift off, Zeke and I took a walk down the beach and watched a flock of oystercatchers bombing over the waves. He kissed me for ages, even though I was quite embarrassed about his mom seeing.
‘She knows how we feel,’ he said, shrugging. ‘You can probably stay over with me at Pa’s place any time you want, by the way.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, but I guess you should maybe keep your head clear for your training?’
‘I suppose. And we couldn’t, you know … Not with your folks in the house. It would be too weird. They’d know.’
‘We wouldn’t have to do anything and it’d be way cool to wake up with you, but yeah, we probably shouldn’t, like, torture each other,’ he said, laughing, and looking at the bottom of my jeans, which were wet and caked in sand. My feet were so frozen on the icy night sand that they were starting to go numb.
I rolled up my jeans, and Zeke crouched down so I could jump up on to his back. I hooked my arms and legs over him and he gave me a piggyback ride up to our deckchairs, both of us squinting in the lights beaming down at us from eight different directions; I knew it would be super-difficult for the surfers to position themselves in the water with those blinding spotlights in their faces and I hoped the guys could handle it.
The Night Surf wasn’t a normal surfing event. There’d be no competitive man-on-man heats, but instead there was going to be one big Expression Session, with everyone out there scratching for waves at the same time. Whoever got snapped doing the best trick, as decided by a team of Nike photographers, would win a holiday to a surf camp in Lacanau in France, plus a grand in cash.
By the time we got back to our spot, Kelly had arrived and she’d brought a bag of old-fashioned sweets with her, which she was sharing with Sephy. Just as we’d finished the sweets and had started on the free energy drinks that various Nike reps were handing out, Elijah turned up and walked over to us.
Kelly jumped up to say hey.
‘Wes about?’ Elijah said to her.
‘Already out there and absolutely ripping. Come on, I’ll show you.’
Kelly took his arm and they walked down to the water-line. Zeke pulled me up out of my deckchair and we followed them down to the water’s edge, while Sephy kept an eye on our stuff.
Garrett waded out of the water to meet us. He nodded at Elijah, clocked the surfboard under his arm and said, ‘You know how to ride that? Had you figured for a dick-dragger.’
‘Been surfing a stand-up for ten years, mate.’
‘Never saw you on Fistral before.’
‘Mostly surf Watergate Bay and Crantock. Quieter.’
‘Wes surfs Watergate. That how you know him?’ Garrett said, eyeballing Elijah quite blatantly.
‘Nope.’
Garrett blew out his smoke so hard that it whirled around Elijah’s face.
Zeke looked at me, no doubt picking up on the hostile atmosphere. And that was when a group of lads who’d been standing nearby, earwigging, decided to walk our way. As they moved past us, one of them made eye contact with Garrett and then another one bumped Elijah and coughed a word that sounded a lot like: ‘Faggot.’
Kelly spun around and said, ‘Get lost,’ and then added her new favourite insult: ‘microwang.’
Zeke looked taken aback and murmured, ‘Wow, there are some real assholes in this town.’
Garrett raised his eyebrows and said, ‘That why you don’t surf Fistral, Elijah?’
‘Is what why?’
‘Y’know.’
‘Because everyone here hates fags and they know I am one?’
‘You tell me.’
‘Garrett,’ Kelly said, ‘don’t be such a prick.’
‘He’s asked Wes to move in with him. You know that, Zeke?’
‘Yeah, he knows,’ Elijah said, coolly. ‘Wes gave Zeke our spare key and he’s helping with the boxes.’
‘So they’ll be roommates. What’s the big deal?’ Zeke said to Garrett, looking uncomfortable.
‘Wes is moving in on Monday,’ Elijah continued, looking Garrett straight in the eye, ‘if you want to lend a hand.’
Garrett and Elijah were getting really close to one another. Each of them had their shoulders back and their chests were sticking out.
‘Why don’t you leave my brother alone? You’re always following him around. Sucking up to him like some ugly-ass leech,’ Garrett said. ‘Does he even know what you are?’
Zeke slid in between them and forced them apart. ‘Stop,’ he said. ‘Y’all need to chill the hell out.’
‘He’s trying to turn Wes gay.’
‘You can’t turn someone gay. They’re, like, born that way or whatever. And we’d know if Wes was gay, so cool it.’
Sephy, scenting trouble, had come down to the water-line. She plucked the joint out of Garrett’s mouth, took a drag, and said, ‘Garrett, Wes is waiting for you. You too, Elijah. Paddle out together.’
‘No,’ Garrett said, through gritted teeth.
‘No?’
‘Stay out of it, Mom.’
Sephy smiled and said, ‘Out of what, Garrett?’
Garrett looked at his mom, and then looked back at Elijah, and said, ‘Screw it,’ and stormed off without even bothering to take his board with him. We watched as he walked between the Nike sails, past the lifeguards’ building and on towards town, where he would no doubt hit every pub on the high street.
‘You going after him?’ I said to Kelly.
‘Why should I? If he wants to act like a toddler, that’s up to him, but I’m not his babysitter.’
‘Right on, sister,’ Sephy said, taking another drag and looking up at the stars.
Kelly squeezed Elijah’s shaking hand and whispered so quietly that I could only just hear it, ‘He doesn’t know how great you are yet. But he will. One day he totally will,’ and Elijah looked down at her with real affection in his eyes.
Then Zeke looked back at the giant digital clock suspended from the beach-complex railings behind us and said, ‘You’d better get out there, man,’ and we watched as Elijah struck out into the waves and paddled straight for Wes.
Two hours later, the Nike photographer projected the winning photograph on to the long white wall of the judging marquee and presented Elijah with an envelope of cash and two air tickets. The trick that won him the contest? A perfect board-switch. The photographer caught the split second that Wes and Elijah were in mid-air, as each of them jumped on to the other’s surfboard while riding a crumbling wave. It was the best photo of the night and probably one of the coolest surf pictures I’d ever seen.
Wes let Elijah keep the prize money. ‘I have a trust fund. You don’t,’ was all he said.
As the fireworks exploded overhead and the Chicane dance mix of Sigur Rós’s ‘Hoppípolla’ blasted out of the PA sound system, the cheering crowd surged around us and hauled Elijah and Wes up on to their surfboards and carried them up the beach. I saw Zeke watching closely, and I wondered if he could see what I could see: just how desperately Elijah and Wes wanted to kiss each other.
chapter thirty-one
Zeke had given me his key to Wes and Elijah’s flat, which was in the middle of town, overlooking Great Western Beach, and I was under strict orders to pick up Zeke’s favourite skateboard. Zeke had accidentally left it at Wes’s, but he’d been promising to lend it to me for ages and said if I could be bothered to pick it up, it was mine for the week. I’d never ridden a carveboard before, as they were stupidly expensive, but they rocked to mimic the motion of the ocean, and I was excited to give it a whirl. As I walked up the stairs, all thoughts of sidewalk surfing went out of my head: I could hear loud music and raised voices.
The door to the living room was open and I saw Wes and Elijah in the middle of a blazing row.
‘I’m so sorry for interrupting,’ I said. ‘I’ll go.’
‘No, stay,’ Elijah said. ‘He’s doing my head in. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.’
I looked at Wes.
‘Elijah is wigging out because I won’t do romantic stuff with him in public.’
‘Eating our lunch outside one time is not “romantic stuff”.’
‘Two guys having a beach picnic is probably the gayest thing ever.’
‘God forbid a total stranger thinking you might possibly be gay. What a disaster.’
&nbs
p; ‘I just don’t dig unnecessary drama.’
‘Oh yeah, you’re all warm and toasty in your velvet-lined closet. Screw the rest of us who actually have to deal with reality.’
‘Way harsh,’ Wes said.
I turned to the door.
‘Iris, please stay,’ Elijah said.
‘I really don’t think you need me here,’ I said. ‘I should probably get to work anyway. Billy goes mad when I’m late …’
Elijah turned back to Wes, and said, ‘You’re living this horrible lie, and, sure, that sucks for you. But you’re getting the best of both worlds. You get to date whoever you want in secret, but you also get to enjoy the approval of the straight world.’
‘And that makes me a bad person?’
‘No. I’m not saying that. You know how much I love you. I just can’t keep doing this. Today I woke up and realized that you could go on pretending you’re straight for like years. And if that’s the plan, I am out of here.’
I heard a cough behind me. Standing in the doorway, with a huge cardboard box in his arms and a blatant look of disgust on his face, was Garrett.
‘So, I thought I’d bring over the last of your stuff. Try to patch things up. But I guess you’re busy.’ He dropped the box, and half the contents bounced out, sending old video-game cases across the carpet.
Wes froze, but Elijah walked across the room and pushed past Garrett in the doorway.
‘You’re not going anywhere,’ Garrett said to Elijah.
‘Wanna try and stop me?’
‘OK.’
‘Jesus. Everyone just calm down,’ I said, stepping between Garrett and Elijah.
Wes suddenly found his voice and said, ‘Garrett, this is my bad. Leave Elijah out of it.’
‘I don’t need your help. I’m not scared of your homophobic Neanderthal brother.’
‘Elijah, seriously, chill out,’ I said.
‘I’m homophobic? You’ve talked to me like once, ever?’
‘Yeah. That was bad enough.’
‘Kiss my ass. Except you’d probably like that.’
‘Garrett!’ I said. ‘That is homophobic. Saying stuff like that is not gonna help.’