Piece of heaven

4. Lake Samsonvale, old memories of childhood summers

Summerholidays meant going to Lake Samsonvale.
Due to Eddy's poverty his family couldn't afford going on vacations, so then a couple, Jon and Carrie, working under the social services, had agreed to let him come with them every year since he was 13. He always made Brett join him on these trips, afraid to be alone, amongst all the other poor kids on the campsite, afraid of the bullying. Brett was functioning as a big brother that would protect him against all shit there was.
Eddy loved these trips, having Brett to himself, as the years went by and they grew older, the adult couple would let them pretty much mingle around the camp by themselves. They made a couple of new friendships as well, friends they'd only be able to see those 3 weeks in January.
While as other kids were excited about new years eve in general, Brett and Eddy were more excited about what was about to come:
3 weeks of summer, Lake Samsonvale.

They all lived in a cabin so small and so in need of renovation, it was more like a shed, really. No running water, no toilet, they'd have to use the bathroom located in the middle of the field, for every one to use.
The shed was only a kitchentable and two bedrooms, barely fit for 3 beds, nothing more.
But somehow they liked it anyway, renting the same one every year. That little, red cabin, (not that much red left on the walls anymore), only two windows, matching red curtains with tiny white squares on them, vintage, which Eddy loved, just by the simple reason they'd always been there.

Brett wondered if those adults really actually liked these trips, their work load being massive, having to cook dinner on a gas stove, having to clean their clothes in buckets outside, before hanging them to dry on ropes streched from the cabin wall to one of the closest trees. Carrie would wash the dishes in another bucket.
It was almost like living in another time period. Brett believed the grown ups hated it.
But every year they went, and every year Carrie and Jon would be all smiles, singing in the car driving the 30 minutes- one hour long trip, depending on how heavy the traffic was at that time of day.
Carrie would wear wide dresses which fluttered in the breeze, and Jon would be flexing his bulging forearms as he would always be working on something, carrying wood, steel, stones, from one place to another, helping neighbours build everything there was. And Carrie's eyes would be following him, beaming with love and devotion, and she would stroke his cheek nearly every time he passed on his way to finish off a new project.

Evenings would be spent sitting by the gas stove, Jon gulping down his Solo, letting out a huge burp, punching his bare, muscular chest with one fist, looking quite pleased with himself, and Carrie would laugh out loud.
Dinner was mostly salads, mint-burgers, tartlets, barbecued tomatoes... aussies know how to barbecue everything, you just don't want anything to mess up the summer roast, that's just the way it is.

Allthough they both lived with this, everything was so different from all they knew from home.
And even though Brett doubted this couple really enjoyed it, he had to admit, Jon and Carrie looked like the happiest adults he'd ever met. (He never knew how they acted in their day to day life, though.)
Jon would say something, Carrie would smack his thigh and he would bark out a weird loud laugh that always made Brett and Eddy giggle along.

Brett got smitten by Jon and Carrie's light behavior, he caught himself chasing and treating Eddy the same way.
Even long before they opened up about their inappropriate feelings, Brett would hysterically chase Eddy down towards the bank, Eddy would pretend as if he was going for the boat, but he would stop, abruptly, under a tree, and they would clash together, standing there, way too close, panting, gigglish, just staring at each other. And Brett would reach out a hand, and slightly touch Eddy's cheek the way he'd seen Jon touch Carrie, but only slightly so, and Eddy would turn around, run and hide in the toilet. Later they would act as if nothing happened.

The best thing Brett could think of, was lying there on the floor in their little yellow boat, feeling the ropes coiled underneath him chewing his back, but he couldn't care less, staring up at the blue blue sky, listening to the oars rhythmically hitting the side of the boat and then quietly braking the water, droplets dripping and running along the blade every time Eddy paused for a couple of minutes, to take a breather or simply because he heard or saw something interesting.
Brett would close his eyes and just enjoy the light rocking from the tiny waves being made from Eddy's shifting.
They would row over to the kiosk, (it was possible to walk there too, by all means, but the lake offered some silence and time alone), where they would buy sweets, pockets filled with coins they had either found, stolen or been given by someone from doing anyone a favour or something.
The kiosk was hidden between small wooden jetties and pink water lillies and the woods of grass straws.

They would spend their days playing with the other kids from the other cabins, play soccer on the field behind the toilets, they would go swimming, fishing, and whenever there was time for it, row around the lake in the burning sun. They would eat cold hotdog leftovers from yesterday's barbecue sitting barefoot (always barefoot) in the grass, and they would fall asleep under the big tree, the one that had a crown big enough to shelter them both from the sun, just when they wanted to.

Brett would come running after having taking a shower, only to see Eddy lying there in the dark green shadow, hands under his head, slowly, lazily chewing on a straw and looking up at the neverending blue sky. And his heart would stop for a moment.

There never was anything about Eddy that made Brett think about him or get him stuck up on him otherwise, when he was lying inside on his single bed and was bored, because it was raining outside and nobody could be bothered to play yatzy or uno anymore, Eddy was hanging out somewhere with one of the other kids, alone for once, and you know, those kind of moments you try to fill with everything, you don't even need to do it yourself, your brain will do it for you. -Here you go, your brain says, and picks out a random photo of something behind your closed eyes, and you're pleasing yourself with it, enjoying it, maybe it's the swimming dude, that guy staying at the cabin closer to the field, he's 3 years older than you and the way his hair dances around his head every time he breaks the watersurface after a jump and shakes his head to get rid of the water in his ears. Or maybe it's something that annoys you, like the father staying in the cabin next to you, or maybe a teacher that you're really not looking forward to see again later that month. Or it could be something that didn't matter at all, like for instance the price on something you never buy in the kiosk, something you don't even want or need, but still you remember it somehow, just because you've seen the price tag so many times when you're standing there in the way too long line, bored out of your mind, as you're waiting to buy something else, but never, NEVER did Brett ever think about Eddy, until THAT SUMMER.

Carrie giggled and picked some butter cups growing alongside their cabin wall, (even though that wasn't actually allowed to do in Australia at that time), because she wanted them to brighten up the rather sad, dark kitchentable which was filled with dents and scratches from years of wear and tear. And when she hunched over some dandelions and blew their seeds away, while she, still giggling, asked them to wish for something, Brett knew exactly what one thing he wanted most of all. But he couldn't tell anyone. If he did, it would never come true.