The Silver Compass By: Sean Roberts
Author's Note: I would appreciate any feedback on the story so far. Please send to seanr_13@yahoo.ca
Departure
He was in the shower when the bathroom door swung open. He did not hear it; he looked only when he saw the curtains around the bathtub pull quickly open. He felt two hands pull him out.
"What the..."
"Shut up," Matthew said angrily, pulling him towards the mirror. Michael was dripping wet. He saw himself and his brother in the mirror. Matthew was also naked. Michael rubbed the water out of his eyes and stared. Their wavy, blonde hair stood out the most, even though Matthew was dry. The colour and shape and length were identical. And below it, two pairs of bright, blue eyes were staring into the mirror. Their skin and height and weight were the same. Michael stared, trying to tell them apart, looking for any distinguishing feature.
"Look Michael. There isn't a single, fucking difference. If we counted hair, there would be the exact same amount. So what does that tell you?"
"Why are you calling me Michael?" He could not remember ever being called that. Even when his parents were angry with him they called him Mike. He heard the name Michael only when he was speaking with somebody he had just met. His brother using his full name jolted his stare away from the mirror and into Matthew's eyes. But Matthew grabbed his arms and turned him back. Michael did not resist.
"I'm not gay Michael, which means that you aren't either. There's nothing different about us except that I know it and you don't." Matthew let go of his brother's arm and left the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Michael fell forwards, holding himself up with his hands on the rim of the sink. He heard Matthew's voice again. "And hurry up," he called. "I have to shower too and we've got to meet mom and dad in fifteen minutes." Michael looked into the mirror again. He was breathing heavily and watching beads of water drip down from his hair onto his chest.
"He's wrong," Matthew whispered to himself.
"Good evening Mike. How are you?" The voice was familiar. What was he doing there? Michael took his time to put down his fork and knife silently, and then turned around. It was Cameron, dressed for dinner, standing behind him.
"I-I'm fine," Michael said. He glanced nervously at his parents, and even more anxiously at his brother. "Umm, this is my mom and dad, this is Cameron. And, Matthew, who you've met." Michael expected a quick hello, but Cameron walked around the table, shaking hands with each of them.
"Sorry to interrupt your dinner," he said. "We're all meeting in my room later, then we're going to go to the disco. Number two thirty two." He was looking directly at Michael, waiting for him to say something.
"Yeah," he said suddenly, after a few moments silence. "I'll see you later then." A quick smile, from both of them, before Cameron returned to his own table and his own food.
"I see you two have been making friends. Good," said Michael's mother. Michael nodded and forked up some steamed carrots from his plate. It was still hot, and ignoring his mothers' teachings, he blew on them before putting them into his mouth.
He had already met Julia - Cameron's sister - and it was just the two of them in room two hundred and thirty two. Michael tried to kiss him when he entered, but Cameron dodged it. He did not want to do it in front of his sister.
"How are you Mike?" she asked.
"I'd be better if my brother were here."
"It's too bad. Well, don't worry, we can all try to drink this one away." She winked. Michael realized he had not yet seen their parents. Cameron had seen his that day for the first time. Michael was curious about why Cameron had black hair while Julia's was brown. Her hair was cut short and it suited her round face. Michael would never have guessed they were related. "So let's go before the bar closes."
Cameron chose tequila. He ordered three of them and Michael drank it quickly before asking for another.
"You'd better take it easy," Matthew said, walking up to them. "We have a flight tomorrow."
"Hi Matthew," Cameron said, extending his hand. Matthew ignored it and Cameron withdrew it. "This is my sister, Julia. This is Mike's brother." Matthew turned to look at Cameron.
"Don't let him get too fucked up. I don't want him throwing up all over me on the plane tomorrow."
"Matt," Michael said sharply. "Is there any way at all I could ask you to stop being such a dick?" "Better than sucking one," he said, walking away. Michael apologized. Cameron and Julia shrugged it off and ordered more drinks.
The alcohol took Michael's mind off what his brother had done earlier. In the disco they played the same music they did every night. It was a mixture of rap and reggae; Spanish and dance. Michael and Cameron had both fallen in love with a Spanish song. Matthew told him later it was called "Obsesión". It was their last night there. Michael, dropping his previous reservations, threw himself into Cameron, holding him tightly around the waist, periodically kissing his lips and his neck while they danced.
They were all drunk when they walked Julia back to her hotel room.
"'Night Jules," Cameron said. "We're just going to take a walk." Julia smiled and Cameron reassured her that it was just a walk. She rolled her eyes and wished them a good night.
They were on the beach again. They took off their shoes and rolled up their pants. Cameron wanted to walk along the edge of the water. At night the tide came in further, giving them less dry sand on which to tread. It was a chilly night for the island, but the alcohol was keeping them warm. They were not talking or laughing. They were not looking at each other. They were both savouring the walk.
They reached the edge of the beach, the boundary between the hotel's and God's land. They turned towards each other, neither of them wanting to make the first move. Michael thought Cameron was upset and Cameron thought Michael was; would a kiss be appropriate in such a situation? Cameron's hand lightly touched Michael's back. He took Cameron into his arms and kissed him, hard. He did not let Cameron's lips escape until Matthew was out of his mind.
He was pressing his lips harder against Cameron's until they were lying in the mud. The water surrounded them while they kissed and while they stripped. Michael had one hand on Cameron's chest and the other inside the mud when he had Cameron in his mouth. It would be the last time Cameron would taste like the ocean; the last time he would smell like the sand.
Michael remembered this when Cameron did the same to him. But he put it quickly out of his mind. He was determined to let nothing ruin the night. When they were finished they lay beside each other, ignoring the cold they were feeling from the water. They were holding hands and watching the stars. Michael moved and kissed Cameron's wet stomach. He remembered the salty taste, and he wished he could keep it with him forever.
"So this is it," he said.
"No, Mike, it isn't. I'm meeting you at Yorkdale day after tomorrow, remember?" Michael nodded. "This isn't it. I love you."
"I love you too." A kiss and a goodbye ended their evening.
Matthew was lying awake when the door opened. He turned onto his side and shut his eyes, pretending to sleep like his brother had done so long ago. He listened as Michael undressed and climbed into bed. He heard the rhythm of Michael's breathing settle; his brother was asleep. Matthew quietly climbed out of bed, fully dressed. Without waking his brother he left the room.
"Cameron! Cameron I have to talk to you!" Matthew yelled through the door of room two hundred and thirty two, hoping he was not sounding too desperate. The door opened. Cameron, in checked pyjama bottoms and a white t-shirt, was standing sleepily behind it.
"Mike? What's wrong?" Matthew swallowed.
"I-I need to talk to you." Cameron nodded.
"Okay. Just give me a second to dress. Come in." Matthew stepped inside, where he saw a figure sit up in bed. He recognized her from the shape of her hair silhouetted against the light from the corridor.
"What's going on?" she said.
"Mike and I are going for a walk," Cameron said.
"That's disgusting," she said. "Haven't you walked enough today?" Her tone showed her laughter. Matthew felt sick.
"I really don't need to hear you saying things like that, Jules."
"Sorry to wake you," said Matthew.
"It's okay," she said. Cameron and Matthew left the room.
"Beach?" Cameron asked.
"Sure," said Matthew.
"What's the matter?"
"N-nothing's the matter. I-I'll tell you when we're outside." He did not know what he wanted to say; only what he wanted to find out. They got to the beach and Cameron kicked off his sandals.
"It's gotten a bit chilly," he said.
"I think it's because I got you out of bed," Matthew replied.
"Maybe. So what's up? It isn't what Jules thought is it? Because if it is, I wouldn't say no." Cameron gently caressed the back of Matthew's arm with two of his fingers, moving them downwards until they were holding hands. Matthew was uncomfortable, but something about Cameron's touch made him want to keep holding on. "No," Matthew said after a few moments, pulling his hand away. "I needed to talk to you, about you. I need to know how you feel about me."
"How I feel about you? But I just told you. I love you Mike. Relax okay? Just because we're going back tomorrow doesn't mean we won't see each other."
"But maybe it should." The guilt of the statement kept Matthew looking past Cameron. They were walking the length of the beach. Cameron was closest to the ocean.
"What?"
"Look, Cameron, things are different here. I mean, we don't have to do anything here except have fun. But at home, I've got school, and my family, and friends, and I'm not sure that it would work out."
"Mike where is this coming from?"
"Look I just don't think it would work out!" Matthew said, pulling his arm away.
"Right," said Cameron, a false calm in his voice. "You just wanted to fuck me. But vacation's over so back to your boyfriend right?"
"No! That isn't...I don't have a..."
"I don't want to hear the rest of that sentence. I don't care Mike. I have to get to bed." Cameron walked hurriedly away, leaving Matthew by the edge of the ocean. Matthew lit a cigarette and told himself that it was for the best.
The plane took off. Michael stared nostalgically at the town he was leaving. At least it's still summer, he thought, in Toronto. The buildings and the palm trees were becoming smaller and smaller. He had gotten used to seeing Cameron every night. Tonight would be the first night away from him. He glanced at Matthew, who smiled nervously. "What?" asked Michael. "Are you trying to be nice to me now for some reason?"
"Yes," Matthew said.
"Well it's too late. So stop looking at me."