by James Hannan
The trip back to Sydney was just what Nick needed. Up the coast every beach seemed to say, look at this sunshine and glistening blue water. Why don’t you come have a swim?
Last time he’d made the trip Nick visited Beautiful Beach. Was that its name? It’s where he’d like to take Rachel. Attractive Beach? He couldn’t remember the name now.
He’d go to Culburra beach this time, then onto Shell Harbour.
Nick wondered what really happened with the girl Jeremy tried to tell him about.
Did he follow her around like a puppy? Watch over her? Do everything for her? Think of everything for her, but not really everything, only the things he could imagine? Perhaps she liked it for a while, and then didn’t. Nick knew how this went.
After the swim, Nick’s hair became knotted with salt, and his left ear got momentarily blocked with sea water. At least his hangover had disappeared.
Being in the water, however, had done nothing for Nick’s frustration at Jeremy. He needed Nick to come down but for what, to go hide in their mother’s closet and not tell his big brother what had upset him? And later, when Jeremy should have been sleeping, that’s when his nocturnal activities kicked in.
Nick texted Jeremy. ‘You were watching me sleep again last night, weren’t you?’
‘Maybe,’ Jeremy replied after ten minutes. Nick had parked overlooking a picturesque beach. Faultless waves rolled in under a perfect blue sky.
‘Again? Really?! I thought you’d stopped doing that five years ago. You’re almost thirty. You can’t keep doing this.’
No response. Nick watched a kid surfing. The wave propelled him forward like he had rockets attached to his board.
‘For how long?’ Nick said.
‘Idk. An hour or so.’
‘Jesus!’ Nick said, ‘Apart from the incessant cleaning, you know that’s the reason why mum and dad won’t stay in the house anymore, don’t you?’
No response.
More surfers appeared out beyond the breakers waiting for the next set. Nick remembered taking Jeremy to the beach as a teenager. The millions of particles of sand, the water endlessly rushing to and fro, the blinding sun. His younger brother found it all too much.
‘Did you sleep in my room too?’ The question was redundant. When Nick had woken earlier, the side of his bed he hadn’t occupied felt warm. There’d also been an indent left by whoever had lay there seemingly only minutes before.
No response.
‘You did, didn’t you? Fucking hell, man!!!’
A speech bubble with an ellipsis appeared but no message came through.
As the ellipsis continued to roll up and down, mimicking the surfers out in the ocean, a message finally appeared. ‘Okay, okay. I had that thing again where I was thinking about myself so hard and couldn’t stop. Images kept pinging my head. I couldn’t make them go away.’
‘Did it help when you came in and slept with me?’
No response.
‘Are you still taking your meds? Do you need to go back and see Dr Robinson again?’
No response.
Typical. Nick thought he’d join the surfers. If Jeremy wasn’t going to make the most of today, he sure as hell would.
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