NOWHERE BOYS: Special training (Andy Lau x Jake Riles)

Special Spot

Nowhere Boys: Special Training

In the perspective of Andy Lau

To go swimming is a favourite pastime. Floating in the water in solitude, kicking yourself to the bottom of the lake and grabbing a handful of mud only to let it disperse as you come back up for air. You had learnt from many Bear Grylls documentaries that mud was nature's moisturiser. You had a spot that was a bit more secluded, away from the bustle of the usual watering hole where kids kicked and splashed one another, their squeals digging into the folds of your brain like so many darts.

No, your spot is mostly just for you. You've caught a few people there once or twice, turning tail and hiking home so as not to have to interact with them, but for the frequency of how often you came here a handful of missed days is not exactly a deal breaker. Though a bit further out in the woods, the quiet calm away from Bremin is well worth the walk. It is not unusual to bathe naked anywhere in or around the small town, and it isn't the nudity what sends you away from being around others, but more the grating voices of friends chiming at one-another to do flips or simply to gossip. You have truly no interest.

The sincerity of your desire to be alone was not something to which you came naturally but was a cultivation due to many years of disappointment in other people. You have to expect the most from yourself and nothing from others. In doing so you have become self-sufficient, well-kempt, respectful, quiet, and dutiful. To add 'lonely' to that list wouldn't be inaccurate, but you have long ago convinced yourself that this is a feeling for which you have no reason to keep. Loneliness, for you, could be easily kept at bay with visits to bars, reading books, cooking meals with your Nai Nai, writing journals, and feeding local stray dogs, all in one's own company.

You yawn in the Australian heat, a bag slung over your shoulder and a towel perched on the top of your head as you go traipsing through the wood. Enormous trees created a cooling canopy, and you know you are getting close as you notice an easily missed break in the underbrush, a small dirt path guiding you as it goes winding through the brambles. You hum and huff and "ouch" your way out to the spot where you like to lay. The warm sun shines upon the sweeping grasses, dappling through branches of the willows where you nestle away your clothes and other personal effects. You strip, fold the thin shirt and underclothes into which you also bundle your socks and shoes, take one last look around, and wade into the cool water with a sigh of relief.

The air is still, and birds chirp peacefully above you, singing to one another as they flutter from tree to tree. You lean back and close your eyes, water filling your ears as the calm meditative lap of the water kisses the side of your cheeks and sweeps your hair into a mass of medusa-like tangles around your head. You sigh. Alone at last.

...

Suddenly, a huge breath of air breaks the silence, and you squeal like a girl, inhaling a small droplet of water which sends you into a fit of coughs and gasps. You turn and see a head in the water, crowned with a slick mass of shiny, dirty blonde hair. You struggle to catch your breath as it keeps you from immediately swimming away to high tail it out of there.