The Waters by Carl Nixon

Author:Carl Nixon [Nixon, Carl]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781761047138
Publisher: Penguin Random House New Zealand
Published: 2013-04-08T00:00:00+00:00

Sam first met Scribbler at the start of the summer holidays. She’d been at the beach with her friend Donna. Sam had only had her driver’s licence for six weeks and driving all the way to New Brighton felt like an adventure. Donna had insisted that they find a spot close to the surf club because apparently that was where all the cool people hung out. They’d staked out a prime spot on the sand where they took turns rubbing coconut cream into each other’s backs to make them tan faster.

‘I wonder what that guy’s doing?’ said Sam.

‘Which one?’

‘In the black T-shirt. It looks like he’s drawing.’

Donna raised her head and peered through her Bollé sunglasses towards the nearby dunes. ‘He looks like a geek. He’s not even dressed for the beach.’

Most of the boys around them were surfers or surf lifesavers, but this guy was obviously neither. He was sitting just up from them with a large artist’s pad perched on his knees. As well as the T-shirt he was wearing black jeans and tatty-looking sneakers.

‘What a loser,’ said Donna and rolled onto her front.

Sam kept watching the guy from the filtered safety of her own much-cheaper sunglasses. He would study the waves and the surfers and then look down at the pad as his hand danced over the paper.

‘Stop looking at him,’ said Donna. She sounded irritated.

‘I’m not.’

‘Yeah, right.’

Donna’s bikini was white and smaller than Sam would ever dare to wear, and she’d obviously been tanning at home next to her pool. Earlier, Sam had noticed several of the boys who were sitting in a group just down from them watching as Donna slowly pulled off her shorts and T-shirt, making far more of a show of it than she needed to.

‘I think he’s drawing us,’ said Sam a few minutes later.

‘You’re kidding?’

‘He keeps on looking over here.’

‘What a perv! He’s probably drawing us naked so he can wank over it later.’

Sam didn’t bother replying. She didn’t see why he had to be a perv. He was probably just a guy who liked doing art. Closing her eyes, she rested her head on her forearms and felt the sun so hot that it seemed to press on her skin like water. She was almost asleep when a voice said, ‘Sorry, excuse me.’

She looked up and there was the same guy standing with his shadow over them, his black clothes like a hole in the bright day.

‘Sorry. I drew a picture and I thought you might like it.’

He held out a large sheet of paper and she automatically reached up and took it from him. The drawing was clearly her and Donna. But mostly it was her. He’d drawn her resting on her elbows looking out towards the edge of the page with a thoughtful expression.

‘Wow, thanks.’

‘That’s okay.’ She thought he’d use the drawing as an excuse to, if not exactly chat her up, at least start a conversation, but instead he just turned and walked back over the sand to where he’d been sitting.

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