Gradient Waves Crashing

Love finds you when you least expect it.

We were classmates in Year 8; a time when having crushes on older boys had been a thing for me.
It was funny how we all liked people outside of class " as if we were bored by the people in our own,
like we were sick of seeing the same faces five days a week. It might’ve been true.
One might think that the bonds we created during those adolescent years would last, but it had
been 11 years since the last time I had seen him. I suppose our friendship hadn’t been as powerful as
others that we’d still seek each other out.
No, that hadn’t been the way with Walker and I.
Our mutual friend returning back home had given us the opportunity to meet again; home to a place
that was 5 hours flight away from the city, and then some more on a bus.
I had sincerely enjoyed meeting that old classmate of ours, and was sad to see Tim off at the airport.
There were several to watch him go. It was even sadder because he was dying.
Tim’s sister had picked me up with Tim in the front and Walker in the back, on a secondhand
metallic‐cream Volkswagen Golf, with no promises of returning me home.
I couldn’t remember her name, so I had greeted her with a casual ‘Hi, how are you’ but I wish I
hadn’t asked her. I really shouldn’t have.
Her face was unforgettable at that moment. It made a scratch, a dent, in my memory.
Tim was dying from metastasised lung cancer, and it was his last wish to be back in the old days.
Well, we certainly were a lot older although our hearts remained young. Some of the other guys
were behaving like they were still in their teenage years, making strange jokes and faces.
But I think we were just trying to look happy for Tim’s sake.
I hope he already had a chance for a chat and a drink with the others in our home town.
I waved hard, as hard as I could, so Tim would see me.
His sister was gritting her teeth, but everyone saw she was in pain. Walker had a gentle arm around
her shoulders. I was not family, but I pretended for this moment, that I was.
What were the sights a man ticking the rest of his days off of a calendar would like to see?
What were the words he wanted to hear?
“I’ll call you soon!” I shouted. I desperately prayed that I would be able to reach him.
Tim grinned back and made a thumbs‐up sign, while others yelled other things, making him laugh.
His hair was downy and so fine when he took off his baseball cap and bowed at us, all gentlemanly.
A final farewell before he disappeared into the pit of the aeroplane.
Several of us left then, but I was the sentimental few and remained until it took flight.
Right at that moment, Tim’s sister crumpled into Walker’s arms and started sobbing.
She looked delirious and unbelieving of his fate, of the entwinement with hers, near collapsing.
Walker’s eyes were fierce as they stared past; the frame of his arms a mere support.
The two of us were practically strangers to her, and for her to cry with such heartbreak, for her to
show such vulnerability to us… I couldn’t find the words to say to her, or touch her.
I stood silently there, looking at Walker for cues.
We stayed that way until she let go.
 
***
“Wasn’t there a nice café around here?” I asked Walker as we strolled along, my fingers tugging on
the straps of a small leather backpack my aunt had given me a month ago.
I adored it, and used it everywhere I went. I loved the tangerine tone of it, and the wornness.
Walker was quiet today, although I couldn’t recall him being this way 11 years ago.
Perhaps it was the occasion.
Tim’s sister had dropped us midway to the city centre, and then said she couldn’t drive anymore.
She just wanted to go home.
“I’m not that sure actually,” He finally replied.
I watched him; the way his strides were long and steady, the way his arms swung almost
nonchalantly, his steps, and his face.
I think he was taking Tim’s departure pretty hard because they were very close.
The private high school we went too wasn’t that big, which is why I was talking about tight bonds.
Walker had a long scar on his cheek, and if I remember correctly, he had gotten it when we were
around Year 9. Everyone kept asking him how he’d got the scar; even I was one of them.
He had grown his hair long then, covering it up all the time, you could barely see his right eye!
If I remember correctly " he had done some stunt on the skateboard rink near school, sending him
flying and crashing into a ragged fence. People teased him, constantly telling each other that they
had witnessed him screaming, “I can fly!” Of course, he hadn’t; but nobody seemed to care.
I giggled. Walker glanced over at me, smiling a little, making tiny dimples appear.
Seeing him now, I guess he had gotten over it. His hair was a slightly grown‐out undercut, but it
suited him the way the soft‐black strands fell haphazardly.
***
It was getting dark just as we were crossing the road to get to the café.
We had passed by a bus stand a while back, and just as Walker was about to get on it, I had let out a
tiny shriek and practically pulled him straight off.
“Why? What’s wrong?” He’d asked me as I clung onto the sleeves of his rolled‐up chambray shirt.
“I can’t,” I whispered, conscious of people staring.
“Can’t what?” Walker turned to face me.
I smiled nervously. He patiently waited.
How had I never known that he was this kind of man?
I breathed in a cloud of smoke as the bus left. Just when I had managed to…
“Ugh,” I started, clutching my throat.
“Actually, I have a fear of buses,” I said. I tried to shrug, but it came out looking really awkward.
A bit twisted, like a zombie’s dance.
He raised a brow at me. Well, it wasn’t your typical fear of spiders, snakes, and the like.
“I have an uncommon fear of buses,” I told him firmly. Walker sniggered.
“I can see that,” He replied, probably taking in the way I was attempting to look all defiant,
“But you do realise that the nearest ‘nice café’ is not so near on foot?”
I nodded. I wanted to explain why I was afraid of them, but I held back.
Yes, we were classmates when we were thirteen, but that was so long ago!
It was such a silly, silly reason. I wasn’t so willing to open up yet.
Not everyone knew that; my colleagues thought I just loved to walk everywhere.
They thought it was like a work‐out routine. That wasn’t true at all.
It had something to do with trusting the strangers that drove and rode in such a tight enclosure.

“It’s uncommon!” I repeated while he just laughed, and kept on laughing as he walked ahead.
I caught up with him, but his smile was too infectious and soon, I felt myself smile too.
To laugh at myself was something that I was slow to learn, but with Walker, it had come naturally.
I was glad that Tim had a friend like Walker.
It was well and truly dark when we got to a place called Aurora’s Deli.
Not really the time for going to a café, although it made me happy imagining extended time with
Walker. Perhaps I could invite him for a light coffee or tea after our dinner.
I had just finished ordering a crumbed chicken and avocado wrap, and was waiting for Walker to pick
his. I peered at the fridge while lazily leaning against the counter, and heard him say,
“One large Buffalo chicken sub, one medium fries and one coke zero, please.”
I opened my mouth to quickly say, “Oh, a coke zero for me too!” when I saw someone walk in.
S**t, I thought. S**t, it can’t be him.
Walker must’ve felt me stiffen up next to him because he glanced down at me.
“S**t,” I mumbled, turning my body around to face the cashier when the man walked past.
B*****d broke my damn heart, and now he’s going around parading with a girl he met online.
I was barely ready to face it; the few months when we had broken up felt like a few days ago.
“Do you want to… wait for me outside?” Walker’s voice trailed.
I nodded and tried to hurry off, but too late.
B*****d had noticed me. “May?” He called out.
I wasn’t going to turn around then, no, not at all " I rushed outside and hid myself under the awning
of the deli around the bend.
After 10 minutes of nervous anticipation, Walker came out with a paper bag that smelled fantastic.
Of course B*****d didn’t follow me " why was I even expecting that?
“Ex?” Walker asked me as he handed me a chilled coke zero can.
“Yep,” I muttered as I popped it open, and helped him with his,
“Worst ex I’ve ever had.”
He smiled a dimpling one again. “I’ve heard that being said about me,” He chuckled.
“You?” I stared at him disbelievingly, “But " you’re wonderful!”
The two of us walked in unison towards an empty bench, away from the entrance of Aurora’s Deli.
“Maybe if you dated me for a day, you’d have the same opinion,” He joked as we sat down.
“Okay,” I heard myself say, making the submarine pause midway to his mouth.
He nibbled it cautiously, and then shifted his head a little towards me.
“…But I still think my opinion won’t change,” I blushed. His tawny eyes were on me for far too long.
I fidgeted with my chicken wrap’s foil; he wasn’t letting it go so easily.
Why was he able to joke like that, but when it was my turn…?
“I hope you’re not kidding,” Walker said.
People walked by us, and I felt goosebumps along my arms when he slid closer.
***
 
“Doesn’t it feel like a first kiss?” Walker asked, saying it almost to himself.
It had been the 10th time our hands had brushed against each other " I had unconsciously started
counting. I pretended that my long side‐braid was coming undone and loosened it.
I lifted my arms up to pull out the knots, just so I could start all over again.
I didn’t know where to put my hands; he had my heart beating fast.
After the not‐quite‐joke, I had blurted out that I wanted to go somewhere but that I didn’t know
where it was. So, we had ended up just wandering around for a bit.
“You look beautiful,” Walker told me suddenly. He was serious this time, I could tell.
It was his voice; it reminded me of my favourite song for this month " Cut Me Open by Eli Mardock.
Walker’s voice was of the same quality " a bit smoky and husky, kind of whispery too.
I heard the lyrics play in my head.
Don’t ever contain what you feel… A child at heart, you taught me that.
“Thank you,” I smiled.
What do you see inside? I’ve nothing left to hide.
“You should keep your hair that way,” He said; he hesitantly reached out his fingertips, and touched
a single long ombre‐brown lock waved by the kinks of the braid.
Cut me open… I’ll gush emotion. Put your fingers in and rip my heart out.
“You won’t know where we’re going,” Walker said to me as I walked close.
I really needed to change my glasses. The lenses were from six months ago, and the dusky sheer
glow from the vintage street lamps weren’t helping much.
“I unexpectedly discovered the spot myself.”
He stopped suddenly, making me collide into him. He pressed the button for the traffic crossing.
I found myself painfully aware of the hollow his shoulder and neck made; the perfect height that was
level with my chin. The cloth of his chambray shirt was a butterfly’s wing against my skin.
He slowly turned his head to me. He caught me captivated.
I felt the rustle of his shirt, before I heard it. I felt his fingers weave with mine, a gentle grasp.
He parted his lips as if to say something, but I spoke first.
“Don’t say anything,” I whispered as our eyes met,
“No, not yet.”
We just watched each other until the crossing beeped.
It was somewhat uphill, wherever it was we were going.
The broken pebbles were noisy and annoying under my battered red Chucks.
He pulled me along as we kept walking up, pushing slim branches out of the way.
“I haven’t been here for a while,” He said.
“I can’t really see where my next step is,” I mumbled in reply.
He looked over his shoulder. “Are your eyes tired?” Walker seemed to be quite perceptive.
I nodded.
“We can swap places then,” He decided, letting my hand go for a moment,
“I’ll stay in the shadows, and you can have the moonlight.”
I felt my lips tremble, and quickly covered it with a hand so I wouldn’t laugh.
“What is it?” Walker wanted to know.
“It’s just that…,” I felt a bubble rising up my chest, my lips cracked into a smile,
“Well, it’s just that… you sounded like some… I don’t know… Dracula proclaiming his love!”
 
He grinned too; enough to have the dimples reappear as well as crinkle the outsides of his eyes.
“I didn’t realise.” He raised the palms of his large hands as he moved into the dark.
His voice was low and it would’ve been romantic if he hadn’t said it in a stereotypical accent,
“Come, my love " let the moonlight wash over you.”
***
“Is it me, or do I hear the sea?” I stopped. Walker was ahead of me on the moonlit steps.
It behaved more like a bridge in that it seemed to connect elsewhere.
He was on a much higher ground than me, so I picked up my pace and followed.
Yes, the crashing sounds were unmistakeable.
“The sea! Gosh, this is…”My voice hushed as the salty wind tossed my hair around.
It was beautiful. I was glad he had brought me here, especially on this night.
I could see better now, from where I stood.
The white spray casting droplets into the air, it caught on my glasses, on my cheeks, my nose.
The whooshing wind that rushed against my ear.
The slow crawl along the sand, and then the unexpected rise that would crash close.
The foam of the waters that was thick like hot chocolate.
The gradients of blue and waves rendered by the moon.
“Oh, it’s so beautiful,” I drew my breath in.
Walker nodded at me. He put his elbows on the salt‐burned wood of the bridge.
“You know what you make me think of?” He tilted his head a little as he said it.
I glanced at him as he continued,
“Do you know that song by Eli Mardock?”
I felt my breath stop for a few seconds.
“Cut me open?” I whispered. I saw his smile, and I knew.
I knew it all.


The End.