The Same Deep Water (12 page)

Chapter Seventeen

When I have the nightmares, they follow me into the daylight every time. I’ve learned to block the memories and blank my mind, but the anxiety triggered by my sub-conscious doesn’t subside for hours. On those days, my world is shrouded in red; I’m on constant alert against threats to my peace of mind. When these days coincide with negative experiences at work, things spiral.

I see the change happening, as if standing outside and watching the anxious Phe unable to focus, making endless lists or staring into space. I recognise her and hate when she slips back in. I don’t want her here but know she’s hard to shake again.

Time with Guy switches off the anxiety; but away from Guy, things magnify and this worries me. Who am I lying to more when I say this is no-strings, no real connection – him or me?

The afternoon in Dunsborough, when I told Guy I only wanted something physical, I fully intended to follow through. I didn’t expect to feel anything apart from purely sexual pleasure. Then I told myself this was a one-off, a release of pent-up frustration and emotions from months of control. Wrong. Each time we have sex, I’m drawn closer to Guy. The physical connection is different than before; nobody has looked me in the eyes or spoken to me when lost in the physical intensity. Yes, I have Guy’s care and respect; but in his eyes, I see more. Something is winding around us, each time tying me tighter to Guy in a way which can only be unhealthy.

This is how the fear creeps in, over the loss I’m facing. We don’t speak about Guy’s illness, in the same way he doesn’t probe me about my mental state. I’ve attempted to research his condition on the internet; but I was met with a confusing array of symptoms and varieties of brain tumours. One thing is certain: Guy will become affected physically.

We fool ourselves we’re living in the now, but our lives are focused on what lies ahead. I’m not sure I can cope with a bright future turning black again. I tell myself I’m stronger, that I’m walking into this with my eyes wide open, but my heart is open and exposed too.

Through Guy I’m learning I don’t have to remain frozen in a moment, or controlled by the past, and that my reliance on medication only to change my life is wrong. He echoes suggestions I’ve been told for years, painting a holistic picture of my recovery. Guy persuades me to attend yoga classes with him and join him for walks at the weekends. We’re no longer travelling companions; we’re companions. Lovers. A couple.

I attempt to back away and pull at the binds, but they’re too tight. I need to see this through to the end.

Chapter Eighteen

#2 Sleep Beneath The Stars

The red dust and long roads point us in the direction of the Pinnacles. The West Australian sky holds nothing but the sun, some times of the year no clouds appear for weeks. This’ll make stargazing beautiful. The further we travel from the city, the more relaxed I become, the hum of the engine and Guy’s music pushing in a holiday atmosphere. I position the aircon to blow across my face and sit back, eyes closed.

“How was your week?” asks Guy.

“Pretty good. I spoke to Pam about writing another article and she said she’d think about publication.”

“What’s the article about?”

I side glance him. “Mental health issues.”

“Hmm.” Guy taps the steering wheel. “Great you asked her, but do you feel up to re-visiting that kind of thing?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Tapping into things you’re hiding, Phe, could trigger something.”

I look out of the window, at the red sand and scrub landscape. We could be in the same place we were an hour ago because nothing’s changed. “I’m fine. You know I am. I want to do this and I asked which was a big thing for me!”

“Sorry. I worry about you.”

“That’s sweet and very perceptive; but if you’re going to teach me to be more assertive, I’ll apply the new attitude to you too.”

“Oh, really?” Guy arches a brow and glances at me.

“Yes. So be quiet.”

Guy chuckles. “So, you haven’t camped before?”

“No. Not sure I’ll like it.”

“You can always sleep in the Jeep if you hate sleeping in a tent that much.”

“Isn’t the bucket list idea that we do things we never have before?”

“True. Yours intrigue me, as if you’re setting yourself challenges rather than doing things you enjoy.”

I know.

“You don’t think I’ll enjoy sleeping under the stars?”

“Not if you don’t like camping.”

“How about you? Do you camp much?” I ask.

“Not as much as I used to.” Guy launches into stories about camping as a child, then later as a teen. I picture the younger Guy with the friends he mentions, and wonder why he spends so much time alone.

The campsite is located in a small town with little else than a few cafes and basic shops, much of the place geared towards tourism. We head off the road through the gates of the campsite, the bright blue ocean a few hundred metres away past the chalets and tent pitching sites. Guy disappears into the reception area and I wait.

“Have you ever seen the Pinnacles?” asks Guy as he hops back into the Jeep. “We could stop there first?”

“I’ve heard of them.”

“You don’t sound keen.”

“Shouldn’t we pitch the tent or whatever before the sun goes down? Go tomorrow instead?”

“You are a very practical lady, Phe. Maybe we can sneak in the National Park at night, or close by anyway. The stars will be unreal there.”

We have an ample choice of spaces with amazing beachfront sites; the tourist season has all but ended. I hang back as Guy pulls all the camping gear from the back of the Jeep. He tips the canvas from the bag and shakes the tent into place; the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing as he does. His singlet top is cropped at the arms, revealing the edge of his tanned chest coupled with his board shorts low on his hips. My sexy, Aussie surfer Guy.

Guy straightens. “Are you going to help or just stare at my awesome body?”

“Ha, ha.” I pick up a canvas bag and tip pegs onto the floor, then look at Guy in despair.

He shakes his head. “You’ve missed out if you’ve never camped before.”

“Not quite the accommodation my grandparents liked.”

“So no school camp?” Guy grabs a couple of pegs and mallet, setting about securing the tent.

“Once, but we were in chalets.” I indicate the row of wooden, blue buildings behind us.

“Right. Would you have preferred that?”

“No. I have to sleep under the stars to tick off the list. Or in a tent at least.”

He grins and throws the mallet in the air, then catches. “Exactly.”

With little help from me, Guy finishes putting up the tent. Inside are two small sleeping sections and a space between where Guy has dumped cooler of food and drink. I haul my newly purchased sleeping bag from the car and Guy appears next to me to lug my bag out.

“Glad to see you’re travelling light.”

“I don’t need much for one night camping.”

“I bet you wrote a list,” he says with a half-smile. “And ticked everything off.”

“Didn’t you?”

“Nah, just threw stuff into the car.”

“How do you know you haven’t forgotten anything?”

Guy takes my face in both hands, blue eyes searching mine. “I have the important things and I’m with you, so what else matters?”

He retrieves two low camping chairs from the boot of the jeep and puts them up. “For you.” He gestures and I sit.

The lawned tent pitching areas stretch toward the beach, thinning to sand a few hundred metres away. An ocean breeze blows through the late afternoon heat, carrying the ozone scent and call of the seagulls. I close my eyes and breathe deeply.

Peace.

“This unscrambles things, don’t you think?” he asks.

I open an eye to where Guy has taken the other seat and sits looking toward the beach too. “This place is peaceful.”

“No city, no traffic, just nature. I think people relax because places like this empty our minds. Reality is so far away and can’t intrude.”

“I guess.”

“Here is living, there, the city, is existing, don’t you think?”

“Then you should move out here if you don’t have to work. Spend your days surfing and whatever else you like.”

“I’d love to but there are things holding me to the city. Especially now.” He reaches across and takes my hand, and we sit in the strange peace we create, silently.

****

The nearby national park is a true desert, the ancient rock structures rising from the sand and towering above. I’d seen pictures but never realised how many of the jagged pillars were here, there’re thousands stretching across the desert. Amongst them, weathered low rocks with rounded tops look uncomfortably like tombstones. Alone in the eerie landscape, I wander with Guy through the taller rocks, gripping his hand.

We head to the lookout point, Guy eager to show me the sun drop behind the weathered spires. Sunset happens quickly in this part of the world, a sudden drop of the sun throws the world into darkness within minutes. Here, that darkness is preceded by a spectacular array of sunset colours, the rocks lit in front of a backdrop of burnt orange and deep red.

Lost in the beauty of the scene in front of me, I rest against the bonnet of the Jeep, barely noticing Guy’s arm around my waist.

“Now we sneak away to find the stars,” he says, drawing me closer.

We drive slowly into the shadows, and Guy cuts the engine. For a moment, I stare at the stars emerging from the dying sunset and soon they’re streaming above the alien landscape. The Martian feel to the place leaves me unsure if I’ll be able to breathe when I leave the car.

The door closes as Guy climbs out, breaking my reverie. I follow and the humid air filled with the scent of the sandy earth is breathable after all.

“Climb on the roof,” suggests Guy.

“The roof?”

“Yeah.” He clambers up and hangs his legs in front of the windscreen, holding a hand out. I join him, the warm metal sticking to my bare legs.

On the roof, we’re not much closer to the stars but surrounded by a canopy dropping to the ground behind the stones. Guy draws his knees to his chest.

“And here we have ‘how to feel insignificant 101’,” he says.

The purple and blue of the Milky Way leads a pathway through the night sky, bright and surreal; they rise behind the tall rock formation adding to the sensation of sitting on another planet. I tip my head back and the bright stars above fill the darkness and dizzy me.

“You’re quiet,” says Guy.

“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” I whisper. “I can’t believe this is so close to where I live.”

“Technically, what you’re looking at is light years away.”

I elbow him. “You know what I mean.”

Guy wraps an arm around my shoulder and I shuffle across the roof so he can hold me closer. “How incredibly sad that something so beautiful shines the brightest just before it dies,” he says. “
Some of the stars are long gone, with the light from their death just reaching us.”

“Don’t say that.” The stars appear to swarm across the sky and I focus, wishing for a shooting star. “The stars aren’t all dead.”

“N
ew stars are born all the time, there’ll be many burning at this moment that we can’t see yet because their light hasn’t had time to reach us.” He laughs softly. “I tell you to forget the past and we’re looking straight at it.”

“Stop analysing what could be a romantic moment,” I say with a sigh.

“Out here we’re alone, kissing under the light of thousands of stars.” He tips my face toward him and places a gentle kiss on my mouth. “In a world where I’m disconnected from everything but you. Is that romantic?”

“Better.” I touch his lips then look around. “We could be on Mars.”

“We could, but I’d rather not.”

I pull away and lie back attempting to make out the constellations around. “You’re right, I do feel disconnected. Looking at what’s out there we know nothing about is overwhelming.”

“Why are you afraid?” asks Guy as he lies next to me, staring upward too.

“I’m not afraid.”

“We’re both afraid of life and what it has to offer when really we should just ‘be’ together.”

I twist my head to him. “But you do that. You live for today.”

Guy continues to look upward and takes hold of my hand. “Todays like this, yes. Other days, I’m afraid. I worry that I’ve made another bad decision.”

“What about?”

“Lots of things.”

I squeeze his hand. “Can we stay with the stars?”

“If tomorrow we can watch the fire of a new dawn.” Guy says the words quietly, as if talking to himself.

“Of course.”

Rolling onto his side, Guy looks down, shielding me against the sky. “Do I make you feel like living?”

“What a strange question.”

“Since the night I met you, you’ve never mentioned what you almost did. I think you’re better now, not cured, but better. What’s changed?”

“Medication?” I suggest.

“Acceptance?”

“Of what?”

“That destruction and loss aren’t inevitable.”

“Why are you always so serious in the dark?” I whisper and touch his cheek.

“Because you can’t see me properly.”

“I think I see more of you than you realise.”

He looks away and doesn’t respond for a few moments. “I like that you’re living. Really living, like I told you was possible.”

“I don’t want to think about that night, Guy.” I reach out and curl my fingers into his hair. “But I’m glad you were there.”

“I would say I’m glad you were there too, but that would sound wrong.” My skin tingles where he gently traces my features with his fingers, like a blind man memorising the contours of his lover’s face. “I think I was afraid to live too, until recently.”

“Because you’ll be in pain soon?”

“No, because I don’t know what the future holds.”

We fall silent, and I attempt to make out his features in the growing darkness. “Do you want to talk about this?”

“No. Sorry. I’ve no idea why I mentioned anything. Ruining the moment, huh?”

I shift closer, holding my mouth close to his. “Kiss me.”

“I will kiss you for as long as the stars shine,” he whispers. Guy pulls me close and steadies himself as he slips against the roof.

I giggle. “Or as long as we don’t fall off the top of the car.”

“Phe, Phe, Phe,” he says with a sigh. “The girl who’s good for me.” He pulls me onto him, so I’m looking down, hair sweeping his face. The land around is silent, the only sound our breathing. Guy’s chest rises and falls against mine as I balance on his hard body.

“We could be the last people in this Martian world,” I whisper.

He holds my hair from my face and covers my face and mouth with kisses. “I think we probably are.”

“Just me and some Guy, in our world of stars.”

“You’re happy?” he asks.

“Are you?”

“Spectacularly.”

We kiss beneath the Milky Way, under the stars burning bright, their frozen moment in time shared with us. The stars’ past illuminates our present, and have already lived in a future we may never see.