The Giddy Death of the Gays and the Strange Demise of Straights by Redfern Jon Barrett

Author:Redfern Jon Barrett [Barrett, Redfern Jon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: Lethe Press
Published: 2015-03-08T16:00:00+00:00

DOM

The night was actually free of clouds, so free that a hundred hundred stars lit up the sky above us, and it was warm, warm enough to sit in t-shirts. It would have been warm enough even if we didn’t have the fire. In front of us was the mouth of the cave, the rush over the underground river spilling from the dark inside, the smell of damp rock tumbling out with it. Richard was at my side, poking at the ground with a stick. We hadn’t said much to each other since we’d left, and I hadn’t figured out if we should have or not. My mind was on Caroline, of course, though Richard did his best.

We’d spent three days wandering through the dry twigs of the woods, washing in inexplicably cold streams and wallowing in the rush of the equally cold sea. It had been Richard’s idea, he’d sussed that I like camping, and I had enthusiastically accepted: there are few things the city was good for, if not being perched on the edge of the Gower.

There were noises, over through the stumps of trees behind us, bursting now and then, noises like the wild sobbing of someone out of all control, and each time the two of us would swivel our heads to face the mysterious sounds, and now and then Richard would edge a little closer to me—he was an indoors type, after all, though I can hardly talk—in fact, I’ll admit, I was anxious to avoid whatever made the awful noises somewhere in the land behind. Then I’d carefully settle back, back with his head rested on me, back with me leaning against the bags with the glow of the fire flowing over my face, and I’m not sure when I drifted, but then it was morning.

On the way back to ours we stopped by one of the rural pubs, each ordering an ale and enjoying the small cosy front room, watching the empty fireplace and trying not to think of the world outside, of life back in the city, the one we couldn’t pretend to escape.

Thankfully we couldn’t: we were mobbed by Zebedee almost as soon as we got home, worn out from two burning bus rides, the apartment a mess of cans and pizza boxes. There behind Zebedee was Caroline and her friend Nomi—Caroline—but Zebedee spoke first, his eyes full of what he knew, and his face twisted into this mockery of a smile, some sort of cruel joke playing over his lips, one he had yet to tell us, yet before we even swapped a ‘hello’ he said,

“Have a good time, you two?”

“Sure,” Richard replied, making a moment’s eye contact with me.

“Well that’s nice,” Zebedee said, his voice thick with sarcasm. For a moment I hoped, and I’m sure Richard hoped, that that was the end of it, but then Zebedee added, “It’s probably not nice for your girlfriend though, is it?” As he said it he thrust his finger at me, making these violent jabbing motions at the air, his face shifting a tinge of red.

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