Waters of Jade
This is the unfinished, work-in-progress, still-being-written sequel to Awatangi. I'm not sure yet whether it will end up being a short story or a novel or what. I'll only be updating this infrequently, and it's a bit tricky to say when, but if it's useful there's a twitter account @awatangi, and I'll announce there.
The first time they kissed was in the car, sitting outside the bach. It had become dark, and the moon was out, and Keri tasted of salt and cold and strawberry lip balm. They kissed again just inside the front door, leaning against it, and then on the sofa in the lounge.
Jess kissed, but was oddly reluctant to do more. This was too important, and she had been waiting too long for it to happen. And she, of anyone, should know how dangerous it was to expect more of someone than they could give. She sat and looked at Keri and said, “I’m scared.” “It’s okay.” “No, I’m really scared. This is important, and I don’t want to…” “It’ll be okay.” “I hope.” “It will.” Jess looked at her for a while, and decided it would be. And that was enough. Then they got into bed, and hadn’t got back out for most of a week. * Afterwards, Jess couldn’t believe how perfect it had been. They had said goodbye to Keri’s friends, and Keri said she was taking off with Jess, and then they had walked back to Jess’s car carrying their surfboards. It was a long walk, all the way down the beach, side by side, but not touching. Jess had been very aware of the not touching. They had climbed into Jess’s car, and driven back up from the beach, up the wheel-rut track to the road, and across the highway to the bach’s access track. They had hardly spoken, except when Keri said, “I haven’t been up here before,” and Jess had nodded, because she wasn’t sure what to say, and then had decided nothing was needed. Jess hadn’t been able to think. She wasn’t certain what was going on, and if this was too soon to be with Keri, and whether she should warn Keri what she had just been doing on her board, out at sea. She wasn’t certain of anything much, except that she wanted to be here, and that she was feeling a building, impossible, tension and desperately hoping it wasn’t just her. She stayed quiet, and felt unsure. They had kissed quickly, in the car, but it hadn’t been that much of anything. It hadn’t been what Jess expected, and she didn’t quite know why. They got out of the car in silence, and went up into the bach’s porch, and Jess opened the front door. She went inside, and then stopped, just inside the door. She wanted to say something about Kate, to explain to Keri, to warn her, but she didn’t know how. She stayed quiet, and Keri walked in behind Jess and looked around. Jess was still wearing Keri’s jersey. Keri had given it to her on the beach because she’d been shivering, had been out in the water for an hour or more at dusk, in autumn, with a storm on the way. Jess peeled the jersey over her head and held it out and stood there, suddenly cool. She was still damp, her hair salt-thickened and wind-twisted, strands of silver-blonde all over her face, blocking her view. Keri reached past the jersey, and touched one loose strand of Jess’s hair, twisted it around her finger, and kept twisting and looping until the whole strand was trapped and her hand was against Jess’s shoulder. Jess was breathing shallowly, irregularly, and knew it was perfectly obvious that she was, given what she was wearing. Somehow she didn’t mind. Keri leaned forward. Her necklaces clattered as she moved. She leaned, and stroked Jess’s skin, with her finger still twisted into Jess’s hair. She touched Jess’s neck, and then her cheek, and then her lips. She touched Jess slowly, and then kissed her again, and this time kissed her more slowly. Kissing Keri was like nothing Jess had felt before. It was some need brought on by wanting her, some desperation by expecting to die. They kissed, and suddenly Jess couldn’t stand any more waiting. She felt urgent. She felt anxious something would prevent this finally happening, and what she was feeling must have been contagious, because Keri suddenly seemed to feel it too, and started kissing more passionately. “Come to bed,” Jess whispered into Keri’s mouth, and then she remembered Kate, “No wait, shit, I need to change the sheets.” “I don’t mind.” “Yeah, you do.” Jess stopped kissing, and leaned back, and looked at Keri. Their necklaces had twisted together, and one of Keri’s had caught in the shark tooth around Jess’s neck, the shark tooth Keri had given her. It took a moment to untangle. “Shit,” Jess said, because of the necklaces, and then, “Shit,” again because of the bed. Keri waited, and looked at her, and seemed a little confused. “I mean, shit, I should tell you.” Jess suddenly felt quite stupid. “The girl who’s gone. She went an hour ago. Maybe less. My bed isn’t even cold yet, just in case that bothers you.” “I’d guessed.” “But the sheets…” Jess said, and then stopped, embarrassed. “We were on the sheets.” “Ah, right. Somewhere else then.” Jess pointed. “The spare room?” she said, and Keri nodded, so their first time together was on a creaking, lumpy, single bed with threadbare sheets that pulled loose from beneath the mattress as they moved. Jess couldn’t get enough of Keri. She wanted for this never to stop. There had been something between them for months, something halfway real and there. They hadn’t been able to act on that something, because Jess had been with someone else, and had never really expected to be free of her. And then she was, but had paddled off into the ocean expecting not to come back. That hadn’t happened either, and now there was Keri, and Jess couldn’t believe how lucky she was. Jess had once imagined everyone had a given amount of happiness that was to be spread over their whole lifetime. A little all the time, or a moment of greater intensity. Jess had spent thirteen years waiting for someone she couldn’t have, and was used to being unhappy. Now it seemed like all her happiness had caught up with her at once. * Later, much later, Jess looked around and realised the room was dark. She was certain that earlier it had been bright with sunlight, and was confused, seriously wondering if she’d imagined the daylight earlier, when they had started. “Was it light before?” she said. “Dusk.” “Oh. It’s night now.” “Yep.” Jess went outside for a cigarette. Keri followed her. “What?” Keri said. “It’s like five whole minutes I could be talking to you.” Jess looked at her and almost cried. “I should quit,” Jess said. “If you like.” “I should.” “There’s no hurry.” “No,” Jess said, thinking. “I suppose not.” After a minute, she asked, “Do you want dinner? I can go pick something up.” She asked, but she actually couldn’t. The nearest real takeaways were about a hundred k away, and anything nearer was the pub where Jess worked, and where she was probably already meant to be, so she didn’t want to go there. In the end she heated a tin of soup because Keri said she wasn’t hungry and didn’t mind and would rather Jess stayed put, and naked, which Jess found tremendously sweet. Keri was everything. Everything she had ever wanted, everything she had never known was possible, everything she could imagine she needed. * In the morning, they sat on the porch and Keri drank coffee while Jess smoked. “Fuck,” Keri said, “I think we stayed in bed too long. I’m getting a rush off this, like I’d missed a day.” “Yeah,” Jess said, “Ah, I think we did.” “Nah.” They looked at each other. “I think we might have,” Jess said. Keri got her phone, and looked at the screen. She looked confused, and then surprised, and then seemed to be counting. “Shit,” she said. “It’s Thursday. What day did I see you on the beach?” “Tuesday. I think.” They looked at each other. Jess wanted to laugh. “Wednesday,” she said. “Not funny. You scared me for a moment there.” Jess sat there grinning. It was still romantic to even suspect they had. “I should go and tell Sam I need a day off,” Jess said, after a while. “Yesterday? Last night?” “Yep.” Keri said, “I should probably go too. Go home and shower and stuff.” “I have a shower.” “No way, I’ve heard about these places.” “What places?” “The baches. Do you even have hot water?” “If I light a fire.” “Well then,” Keri reached for her clothes. “I can light a fire.” Keri lifted her clothes, sniffed. “I should change anyway.” “Borrow something,” Jess said, for some reason not wanting her to go. “Or go if you want. But I want you to stay.” “I do too.” “So stay then.” Keri looked at her, kissed her, then said, “All right.” * |