Kulture Kaiwa

There’s a peaceful lull as the headlights pass from left to right. He’s concentrating for a moment, waiting for a break in the traffic to make a left turn toward their destination. It’s their second visit to Floreat Beach, a few months since their last. His foot shifts to the accelerator and instantaneously the conversation starts up again. There never seems to be a struggle for words between them, though they really barely know each other.

April is excited to be returning to this particular spot. She knows that no matter what they decide to do there, they’ll inevitably end up side by side on the net swing, telling each other stories and looking up at the stars. It’s the closest she gets to be with him and her face is beginning to feel warm thinking about it.

They pull into the empty carpark overlooking the barely lit grassed area beside the playground. The evening breeze graces their cheeks as they walk along the narrow path leading them to the ocean. Pausing where the path meets the sand, the two of them admire the strong swell below – dark and mysterious against the night sky. They’re still giggling at one of Martin’s work stories when Ava decides to brave the unstable sands, ungraciously sliding her way down the hill to get nearer to the waves. She’s always been drawn to water, but tonight especially she feels a desire to be close to it. And to be close with him.

“Really? You’re doing it? Goddduhh, okay.” Martin chuckles as he stumbles down after her. She walks confidently ahead, getting as close to the water as she can before ruining her shoes, and stops, almost breathless at the beauty of the untamed mistress in front of her. For a moment she’s alone there, imagining what it’s like to be pinned under those dark, rhythmic waves. Somehow she’s always felt it would be peaceful. “Gonna jump in?” Suddenly he’s by her side again. “Shall we?” She jokes, part of her hoping he might be crazy enough to say yes. “… maybe if it wasn’t freezing cold.. and we had extra clothes.” Of course, she thought, he’d never get undressed with me. But it was fun to consider. “C’mon, let’s go back up” says Martin, already starting the journey up the hill.

She’s a little disheartened at the friendly rejection but her spirits lift again when she sees he’s headed towards the swing. She picks up pace, silently thanking the mastermind behind the design of the two-man swing. He props himself up onto the net, holding the contraption steady so she can take her place beside him. The bow of the netting nudges them in towards each other, giving her an excuse to be close enough to have their arms touching without it crossing a line.

They spend an hour or so talking about anything and everything, gently kicking against the wooden posts to keep the swing rocking steadily as they gaze up at the stars. He answers her never ending questions of would you rather’s and have you ever’s, and she laughs uncontrollably at his rendition of ‘Buffalo Soldier’ that he has managed to unintentionally fuse with a Crowded House song, after which a comfortable pause follows as they both ponder the last time they laughed so loud for so long.

Desperate for some relief from the outer ring digging into the back of her head, Ava slides her beanie down under her hair. She wonders what it would be like to have Martin’s arm cushioning her head instead, the rest of her pressed up against his side for warmth. “It’s getting pretty late” Martin says, noticing her shifting in discomfort. He’s always the first to get up. Ava stumbles off after him, both of them shaking off the ill-effect the horizontal swaying has had on their bodies.

They wander back towards the car, a lighter spring in their step than when they had arrived. He breathes a slight hesitation before proposing an offer. “I’m staying at Kate’s tonight, so I can drop you straight home”. Another brief silence, this time though it’s not a welcome one. She prefers the dizzying queasiness of the swing over the empty drop she feels in her stomach now. “Sounds good.” She’s become quite talented at painting her face with a cheerful smile so as to not disturb the mood, and it works almost every time. It makes her happy to see him smile back – success.

The radio plays softly as they cruise along the dark roads, peering inside the warmly lit windows of those fortunate enough to live so close to the ocean. The loneliness of her reality grows bigger the closer they get to her street of townhouses and internally she’s wishing him to take the long route back. But Martin’s too efficient for that. Releasing a gentle sigh, she smiles to herself at the all-too-logical side of him, a trait she’s inevitably grown fond of. It’s a strange joy to rinse off the stubborn grains of sand clinging to her skin, a reminder that the evening was more than a dream as she relives every moment spent beside him, on their swing by the sea.