1.
It was the dying time.
Col didn't want to shiver, didn't even like the way that stupid thought had wormed its way into his thoughts. Around three in the morning, and everything strangely quiet - not really dark, because it was never completely dark on the ward. Never completely quiet either, but just for that moment there was a stillness, somehow a silence, where there was so rarely a silence. Almost a gap in time. Sebby looked at Col with those big eyes, and the pair of them so still and scared in that moment, both of them weirdly unreal in the faint, green light from the monitors.
'I feel like a fish in a tank. Just swimming around and not knowing I'm in a tank and going nowhere. Maybe it's better to be a fish and then you never know you're going nowhere; and it won't hurt anymore.'
Sebby had said that not long ago, on an early morning such as this, when it was too quiet. And maybe there was something aquarium-strange about the light that had triggered that thought, and maybe it was just the simple helplessness of a kid trapped and scared and dying. It wasn't like Sebby, though. Sebby was one of the real fighters, one of the stoics; he just kept going, taking anything and everything without complaint, because Sebby just never gave up. He wouldn't. He'd claw his way through pain and fear every day, and do it because he would not give up a single day of his life without a fight. But now, maybe Sebby had just got to the point where the fight was going out of him, to a place where there was acceptance that he couldn't fight any longer. Not a happy acceptance, but knowing he'd almost reached the end.
People always asked Col how he could bear nursing children with cancer. Or else they thought Col was some kind of saint for doing it. What could he say? There was such... bravery about these kids. They dealt with pain, agony, fear, and the possibility of death and they were just so damn brave, and accepting. And so many of them seemed like old souls. A strange thought for a man who wasn't sure he believed in God, but somehow still believed in souls.
'I want you to kiss me.'
Col had ignored the words, pretended he didn't hear them. Sebby was just a kid, a baby, a patient, and Col was his nurse, his caregiver. Kissing most certainly did not come into it, not in any shape or form.
Sebby kept talking, quietly, slowly. 'I'm not going to grow up. I'm never going to own a car, or even drive one, legally. I'm not going to get smashed and dance like a maniac at my eighteenth birthday party. I'm never going to have a boyfriend. I'll probably never tell my parents I'm gay. This is it, Col. And I want you to kiss me.'
Col looked anywhere but at Sebby. Instead, Col found himself drawn to one of the photos on the bedside table. There was a Sebby, with a wild fall of untidy blond hair, and the sweetest grin in the world. His arm was looped around a dark-haired boy, who turned shyly from the camera, looking almost as if he was going to bury his head against Sebby's shoulder. On the other side, Sebby's little sister had her head thrown back, laughing. In the background was the Marwillbah Pub, with a dishevelled Santa leaning against the doorway, his beard pulled down, his red coat loosened, and raising a beer to the camera in a toast.
Happier times. Col could almost feel the suffocating heat of that Christmas Day, smell the beer and breathe the dust, even if he'd never been to Marwillbah, or would be hard-pressed to find it on a map.
Sebby was still talking, in that quiet, strained tone. His eyes shadowed and haunted. 'I won't even get beaten up by the guys at high school, or thrown off the football team by people who are supposed to be my mates. This is it, all I'm going to get, and I want my first kiss, because I'll never get another one. And I want you to be the one to kiss me. Please.'
Such an old soul, Sebby, at fifteen, but he was still just a baby. Col did do the one thing he could - he touched Sebby's head, just cupped it for a moment. That sad, almost bald old head on such frail, tired, young shoulders.
'A first kiss. Please.' Those big eyes boring into Col, pleading.
There were organisations that granted sick and dying children their last wishes. Col could not think of a single one that would be able to grant this particular wish. He certainly couldn't grant it.
'I can't. You will definitely get your first kiss, but it won't be from an old man like me.' At twenty six Col felt ancient looking at Sebby. And Col shouldn't say stuff like this, couldn't say stuff like this, he could not promise a dying child he was going to live. Yet, it was weird. It felt the same as when Col's grandmother said odd things, such as "don't take the car today, take the train", and you heard later on the news about that massive pile-up you would have been caught up in. Except Gran didn't always get it right, and this was a dying boy in an oncology ward, and Col was his nurse. Yet the words kept spilling out, as if Col could not contain them.
'You're an amazing person, Sebby Andersson. And you're going to grow up, and you're going to be even more amazing. And you'll do amazing things. You're going to have an amazing life, I know it. And you will have mad, crazy crushes, and you will have a first kiss. And maybe that first kiss will be fireworks, or maybe it'll slobbery and kind of disgusting, but you'll always remember it and it will still be great however it goes. It will be the best kiss and the one you always remember.'
What the hell was Col saying? And how could he say these things to a dying child? Yet somehow the words were squeezing past reason and sense.
'You'll fall in love and out of it. You'll break hearts, and you'll get your heart broken. And yeah, you probably will get thrown off the football team if you tell them you're gay, but it's a pretty lame-arse football team, isn't it? I mean the Marwillbah Wombats aren't exactly great, are they? Not from what you've said. And that name is just shit. I mean - Wombats? But yes, that rejection by your mates will hurt, a lot, but you'll get over it. And you'll walk away from those idiots with dignity and with pride. And with strength, because you're an incredibly strong person. I know that. And you know that.' Col drew a ragged breath - just shut up, Col - and yet he couldn't. No matter that he could almost taste death in that room.
'And you won't stay in Marwillbah. You won't go to Agricultural College like your best mate. You won't run a pub like your parents. You'll move to a city and you'll go to university and you'll do something great in the world. I don't know what. I can't tell you that. But whatever it is, and even if it seems unimportant in the grander scheme of things, it will be something great. I know it.'
It was even quieter for a few moments.
'That's just about the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard,' Seb said finally, softly, in his gruff country-kid drawl, but there was a tiny edge of a smile now on his face. 'I just wished you'd kissed me.'
'It's what I think your life will be.' What I hope, what I desperately want for you, what I'd pray for if I could believe enough to pray. 'And if you want me to kiss you?' Col picked up Sebby's chart and scanned it for the one piece of information he wanted, date of birth. 'Your birthday's the third of November, right? Well, there's a pub in Newtown, it's called the Rose and Thorn. You turn up there, when you're twenty one, on your twenty first birthday, and I'll be waiting. You can buy an old man a drink, and who knows - maybe you'll get a birthday kiss. Now, enough. Get some rest. I've got other miscreants and trouble makers apart from you to deal with on this ward.' Col wanted to leave, had to leave - what the fuck was he doing?
'Col, you'll only be thirty two when I'm twenty one. That's not an old man.'
Ah, hell, he even knew how old Col was, the poor little kid. A bit of a crush there. That made it worse. So much worse. 'Matey, when you're twenty one, it'll seem ancient. I'll seem ancient. You're going to think "who is that old geezer? Who'd want to kiss him?"'
God, please help me here, because he's not even going to see sixteen, he may not even see most of next week, and I'm being a fuckwit and telling him thirty two will seem ancient? And that he will have an amazing life? Oh, yeah, just fantastic, Colin O'Ryan, you've handled this one perfectly. Except what do you say to a dying fifteen year old boy (a baby), who tells you he's gay and wants you to give him his first, and probably only, kiss? You babble a lot of rot and you hope you're not going to burst into tears right then, because you're supposed to be so much stronger than that, and it's not about you. It's about him, and you just want to hold him and keep every bad and ugly and dreadful and agonising and scary thing at bay, and you know you can't. And that knowledge tears your heart to bloody confetti.
'You could have made it my eighteenth birthday, old man. Okay. So, I'll definitely see you in six years, Colin O'Ryan?' Sebby's dark, shadowed eyes were staring up at Col, almost boring into his soul. 'It's a date and don't you dare forget to turn up. I'll be there. Whatever happens, I'll be there. You remember that, I'll be there. I don't want to be stood up for my first kiss.'
Colin reached out and gently squeezed a hand that was hardly more than skin and bird bones, so very fragile. Looked into eyes that were shining with a strange hope and purpose. 'I won't forget. I'll be there.'
'And I'll be there, Col. And bloody right I'm going to tell you all about my amazing life. I promise.'
2.
Third of November that year Colin had a quiet drink in memory of Sebby at the Rose and Thorn Pub in Newtown. He noted it was looking tired and shabby, or maybe he was just feeling older and sadder, and a lot of things were looking tired and shabby. It was still gay-friendly, in a laidback sort of way. No guys dancing or anything; the years when they used to have drag shows and there was a dance floor were long gone. But it was a quiet, civilised place still to have a drink, and maybe pick up company if you wanted to. And of course there was the star attraction, dark-haired, green-eyed Jason behind the bar. That was the night Colin got the nod from gorgeous, green-eyed Jason, and hell, that was like winning Lotto twice and picking the winner of the Melbourne Cup every year and everything else lucky and unlikely in the world. So yeah, Colin had waited until Jason closed the bar, and went home with him. And that was good because it meant Col wasn't alone that night. And for a while he fell in love.
The next year, the third of November actually was Melbourne Cup, always the first Tuesday in November, the race that stops a nation. The Rose and Thorn was crowded with a different clientele, and people had been drinking too long through the day and into the night, and a few ugly fights had broken out. So Colin had had a quick drink, his usual grieving, birthday toasts to Sebby, and avoided getting into a fight with a couple of mean, middle-aged drunks who thought Col looked queer. Or so they told him. Except they weren't so drunk that they didn't also notice that Col was a big guy, and mild though he usually was, he was getting pissed off. And that year there was no gorgeous, green-eyed Jason behind the bar. That particular ship had sailed, breaking Col's heart in the process. The Rose and Thorn was under new management, and the bar staff were surly bastards. Col was just glad to get out of there.
Colin O'Ryan was probably the only person in New South Wales, or the world for that matter, who actually subscribed to the Marwillbah Herald. It came out once a week, thin and sort of sad, celebrating and lamenting the sort of things small Australian country towns and their inhabitants lamented and celebrated. Reported things only a few people probably cared about: for example the abysmal performance of the Marwillbah Wombats (in all grades and age groups) in their last few games, and the success of a fundraiser for the local nursing home, a record price paid at auction for a some kind of cow, fashions at the Marwillbah Picnic Races, and the Marwillbah Pony Club had won some kind of state title. Yeah, fascinating stuff, really. Colin had sent a donation for the nursing home fundraiser. He wasn't sure why, just seemed like a good thing to do. Or maybe it gave him a tenuous connection to a place he'd never known and would never visit. A place where Sebby Andersson had grinned at the camera one Christmas Day, looking like the happiest kid in the world, with his baby sister and his best mate.
After a while the nice people at the Marwillbah Herald emailed and suggested it might be easier for Col to simply check their website, rather than paying to get the paper delivered all the way to Sydney. Yeah, all the way to Sydney, as if it was a dangerous voyage to the New World and not just posting a thin little newspaper from one part of the state to another part of the state once a week.
He had no idea why he thought reading that stupid country town paper was important anyway, or so he told himself. He would hate to think he was trying to find in the reporting of life in a boring little rural town some sign of Sebby. But Col was looking for something, he knew he was. Not a living Sebby of course, because that would be madness, but some sign that Sebby Andersson had some sort of legacy that he'd left behind. Something. Anything. So yes, maybe Cal was looking for mention of some building called the Sebastian Andersson Memorial something or other, a scholarship named after Sebby, even a bloody sporting award. Something. Anything.
Eventually Col gave up subscribing to the paper. Funnily enough he kind of missed it, and the website wasn't the same. It was shared among a lot of regional papers, and a lot of the little stuff about Marwillbah got lost. Over time Colin got out of the habit of checking it, except a couple of times a year, when he was very tired and depressed, or wondering what the hell he was doing with his life, or those strange times when he found himself suddenly thinking about Sebby.
It wasn't as if Col had never lost a patient, not as if some of those kids, all of those kids, couldn't break you into tiny pieces. And sure, a lot of them would never get a first kiss, or go to a school formal or fall in love... So, why did Sebby Andersson stay with Col? It wasn't as if Col could have done anything differently, except, of course, kept his big mouth shut that night. Kept it cool and professional and not uttered such absolute rubbish to a dying boy about the amazing life he was going to live. And even Sebby knew it was bullshit, his very words in fact. But for just a few moments there had been some kind of light in Sebby's eyes, something there like hope. Sebby wanted to believe; maybe somewhere in his mind and heart he did believe Col, if only for a few moments, and only a tiny bit. And that was the problem, the thing Col could never forgive himself for doing: he had just for the briefest time given hope where he had no right to give it. Given hope where hope was impossible and so very cruel. And that was what haunted Col - he'd made a dying child a promise Col could never keep, shown Sebby a life he would never, ever live.
No matter how in those few minutes it was as if Col could almost see Sebby growing up and being alive and healthy and strong in the world. No, damn it, for those few moments he had seen it, and he truly wanted to believe in some kind of miracle, some gift of a future where Sebby did get to live. As if by speaking the words Col could make it happen for Sebby. And Col had a hard time forgiving himself for that stupidity, that hope, that lunacy, that cruelty, that weakness... whatever it had been.
So Sebby Andersson stayed with Col, almost as a physical presence. The look in Sebby's eyes, that hope and steadfast purpose he could never fulfil. Sebby was the ghost that followed Col. Though that wasn't quite right. Not a ghost, a more solid presence than any ghost. No, it was more as if Sebby was someone Col had said goodbye to, but only because they were leaving the state or leaving the country. Someone who was out in the world somewhere still, alive and well. And those were thoughts even Col's strange, fey grandmother would have looked worried about if he'd shared them.
The third of November when Sebby Andersson should have turned eighteen, and gotten smashed, and danced like a maniac at the Marwillbah Pub, Col said his usual toasts to Sebby half a world away. In a forsaken little village in Ethiopia, near the Sudanese border, Col tipped back a bottle of water. He was bone tired, off the end of another gut wrenching shift as a volunteer with a medical mission. Yet he smiled just a little, watching a ragged bunch of kids kick a ball around in the dust in front of the tents. And he knew Sebby wouldn't begrudge the smile, because Sebby too, once, had kicked a football around with his mates, in a different land, covered in dust and laughing just like that, in sheer innocent joy.
Col was back in Sydney the next year, and found the Rose and Thorn no longer existed. There had been a fire and the building had been torn down. So on a drizzly spring evening, Colin O'Ryan had loitered near a building site and he had, for the first time in his life, stood on a public street and drank out of a bottle, still in a brown paper bag. It was fine Irish whiskey, the stuff his grandfather swore by, but the police still weren't impressed. Even so they'd let him go without too much hassle. Maybe there was something so terrible and lost and forlorn showing on his face that convinced even hardened city cops to just let him be for a few moments. So he drank his toast to Sebby's first kiss and to Sebby's amazing life that had never happened, and then Col went away quietly. Just as he'd promised the police he would.
The year Sebby would have turned twenty, Col was in East Timor. Another volunteer nursing stint. Col drank his toasts to Sebby with honest to goodness real Aussie beer, and still felt so far from home, wherever that might be, and so very lonely and alone.
Colin knew the third of November that Sebby turned twenty one would be the fucking hardest one ever. Though maybe it would be the last one. No, it would be the last one, and Colin wasn't sure why he was still doing this anyway. The Rose and Thorn was gone. There was a tapas bar now in its place, as part of the ritzy boutique development that had replaced the Rose and Thorn. It would do, he could get a beer or some wine there. It wasn't particularly busy, mostly empty in fact, and Col could just sit there in peace. Or not in peace. That particular night was a vigil, even if it was in the most unlikely of places. And it was a final apology to Sebby, and maybe it was about accepting the pain, and moving on, at least a little. Trying to let go of anger and grief and regret and all the things that had gotten twisted up in his life. It would be a final farewell to Sebby. Sebby who never got a first kiss or to live an amazing life. Who never even got to see sixteen.
'Sorry if I'm late. I couldn't find the pub. But someone said this is where it used to be. This is the right place, isn't it? I guess it must be, since you're here. So, hi Col, I've come to keep our date.'
Shock came first at the voice and the impossible words. Shock as if Col was being drowned in arctic seas, icy cold and breathless and numb. Then anger came like a tsunami for whatever fucking stupid joke this was, for whatever evil fucking prank someone had thought to play on him. Col's fists bunched on the table, hands that had held and soothed sick and dying children for years were moved to violence, mindless, horrible violence. And then other hands covered his fists, albeit a little shakily.
'I promised I'd do this, okay? I promised Sebby. I said, mate he's not going to be there, but Sebby said you would be, and here you are. So for tonight I'm Sebby okay, and I've got a lot of stuff to tell you. So don't hit me, okay? Shit - You're scaring me.' The young man drew a quick sharp breath, looking worried. 'I thought you were a big guy because I was just a kid, but you are a big guy, and you'll kill me if you throw a punch. So please don't? Please? I need to do this. Tonight I'm Seb Andersson, and I'm here to tell you about my first kiss and my amazing life.'
3.
Col had no idea what the hell to say, for a moment he could only stare at the stranger in front of him. He shook off the young man's hands and said, as calmly as he could, 'I'm not going to hit you, but I'd like you to leave. Now. This isn't funny.'
'Oh. Hell, I didn't even think, maybe you're on a date and waiting for someone, and maybe you don't even remember Sebby. Sorry, this is crazy. Sebby thought... And you don't even know who I'm talking about.'
That stabbed Col, the ridiculous idea that he'd forgotten Seb, and maybe Col looked even angrier. 'I know exactly who you're talking about. But this is cruel. Very cruel. And I don't know who the fuck you are but - '
The young man stared straight back at Col, stubbornly, and then sat down opposite, with a look that said he wasn't going anywhere. 'Well, I'm supposed to be Sebby, just for tonight. And I'm supposed to tell you stuff. Okay, I'm going to do it quickly, in case you do hit me.' He drew another quick breath, and scrubbed a hand through his messy dark brown hair. Then he focused on Col, with eyes the colour of whiskey, and his expression pained but resolute.
'So, here goes. I did get my first kiss. It was four days before, well, what happened, happened. And it was with my best friend. And yeah, it was pretty awful, even though he said he knew how to kiss, he'd only kissed girls, well, two anyway, and so it was weird, at least at first. But you know something? It was also the best first kiss I could have ever hoped for. Just the way you said it would be, Col, and it was the kiss I was always going to remember. The kiss I was never, ever going to forget.' A pained smile crossed the young man's features.
What the hell? Col could only stare. This was not, of course, Sebby Andersson. Sebby had died and had haunted Col for years, and now someone was - what? 'Stop this - whatever it is, stop it now.'
Dark amber eyes lit with defiance. 'No, damn you, I came all this way to tell you. And to keep a promise, and I'm keeping that promise, and you are going to listen. So listen.
'I did fall in love. Of course I did get my heart broken, well, at least once. And yeah maybe I did break someone's heart, even if I didn't mean to. As for wild crazy crushes, well, it was kind of a tie between you - I was so fucking crazy about you, and yeah, I wanted you to be my first kiss - and my mate Hal. I mean he was my other mad crush. Or maybe I really was in love with him. I do know he was my best mate.' The young man finally looked away, his hands knotted on the table, his knuckles white, but he hadn't finished.
'Okay. I'm sorry I couldn't wait till I was twenty-one for my first kiss, but you know why I couldn't wait, Col. So I made Hal kiss me. Kind of blackmailed him into it, but he really wanted to; he'd just never have had the guts to admit it.' A harsh bark of almost laughter, and almost a sob. And Col could only sit there, stunned.
Hal? Oh, God, now Colin knew who this was, and knew too he deserved this, with all its raw pain and memories of a dying boy.
Hal was continuing, words tumbling over words. 'And I did tell my parents I was gay, and well, not great. I mean my father hit the roof, and then just pretended I'd never said anything, though he didn't talk to me much for a few months. My mother wanted to pray for me, and she told our minister. And then she had a fight with him, and told him - well, let's say she told him to get stuffed. That's my mum.' Hal sighed and half-shrugged. 'And then I told my mates in the football team. Well, you know how I said they'd throw me off the team? Didn't happen, Col.
'It was such shitty luck, but the Wombats were doing so badly, and I was the only one kicking any goals that season. As long as I kept kicking goals there wasn't much crap over being gay. And I still had to play for the Marwillbah Wombats, and it was freaking embarrassing, because they were just so useless. Boy, were they useless.' Hal shook his head in disgust for a moment. Then he lifted those whisky-bright eyes to Col's, and smiled. 'All the ball handling skills of an armless eunuch, as my dad would have said.
'And no, you were right, I didn't go to Ag College, and my dad really blew a gasket about that. But I ended up at the Australian National University, doing a four year degree in advanced computer science. And that's a big deal, because it's almost impossible to get the marks to get accepted for that course. But I did it. Because that's what I really wanted to do. I worked like a dog to get in, and I still work like a dog. But it's worth it. I've got one more year until I finish my degree, and then I'll work out where I go and what I do. But you know what, Col? My life has been fucking amazing.'
'I'm sorry.' It came belatedly, whisper soft, almost scared from Col. 'You don't know how sorry I am.'
'You're… sorry?' Hal looked confused. 'Right, maybe I messed it up. Or got things wrong. Believe me, it's not easy doing this. It hurts a lot, as it happens. Let me start again. I'm Daniel Halstead. My mates call me Hal, maybe because of my surname, maybe because A Space Odyssey is my favourite movie of all time. I was always into science fiction and computing. Still am. Anyway, forget that.
'Six years ago my best friend, Seb Andersson, died of cancer. And you knew Sebby, and Seb was just crazy about you. I mean, I know it was kind of a kid's crush, but besides that he thought you were a wonderful man in every way possible. He thought you were the best nurse in that place. And the kindest. And he admired you, hell did he admire you. You were the first person he ever told he was gay. Because he knew, Col, I mean Mr O'Ryan, that his time was almost up. And he trusted you so much.'
'Col.' Col corrected automatically. 'Not, Mr O'Ryan. Col. And Hal? You're Hal? Oh, hell.' The dark haired kid who wouldn't leave Sebby's bedside in those last days. The kid in the photo who'd stood outside the Marwillbah Pub, head turned shyly from the camera - or had he just been looking at Sebby? This was it then, what Col had perhaps been dreading, his confession of the terrible thing he had done, even if Hal apparently seemed to know what Colin had done. 'Yeah, he trusted me, and I abused that trust. Terribly. I did something unforgiveable, as you obviously know. I told Seb-your friend some terrible lies. And I know it doesn't make any difference, but I have spent six years regretting ever-'
'Col - Shit. No! It wasn't like that. You saved my life - well, maybe you didn't exactly save my life, but Sebby did. Because of you. Please, just listen, I promise you, you never did a bad thing. You did a great thing. And that's what I'm supposed to tell you.'
'No, I'm sorry. Whatever you say, whatever you think, doesn't make it right. Can't ever make it right. Because I did something unforgiveable six years ago. Certainly unethical and unprofessional. Something very cruel. I lied to a patient. To a dying child, no less. I told your friend, who I knew was dying, that he was going to-' Col couldn't continue, and he just couldn't look at this intense young man. 'I was a fucking bastard. I admit it. Because I was weak, and I couldn't face-'
'No, you weren't. Not a bastard, and not weak. You told Sebby he was strong and that he was amazing,' Hal said softly and very gently, 'and that he was going to have an amazing life, and he'd do something great in the world. I pretty much know what you told him word for word. Because it meant so damn much to him that you thought he was amazing, and he told me all about it. Because it mattered to him. But more than that, he made me promise I would be here, on his twenty first birthday, to meet you and keep the date, as he put it. And I had six years to do all the things Sebby would have done.
'And you know what, Colin O'Ryan, Sebby did do amazing things as far as I'm concerned. Not big things maybe, to anyone else. But he made me live every bloody day, and yeah, sometimes I fucked up badly. But I guess we all do that sometimes.
'But I loved Sebby, like a mate, like... I don't know. Let's just say I loved him. And I still love him. I always will.
'If Sebby hadn't died, you know we probably wouldn't even still be friends today. Seb and I. Crazy isn't it? Even though I loved him so bloody much. Because he would have told people he was gay, and I wouldn't have ever admitted I was gay. And he would have been ashamed of me being a coward, because he was never, ever that. Or maybe he wouldn't have been ashamed of me, but I would have been ashamed. I'd probably still have girlfriends, and I would have hated myself, and I never would have said a thing to my parents, and sure as hell would never have told the Marwillbah Wombats I was gay. But I figure Seb would have definitely done that.' Hal suddenly gave a grin, and it lit up his face with a fierce, wicked light. 'Hell, yeah, he would have done that. Oh, he would have loved the look on their faces. He would have stared every single one of them down too, because you didn't know him before he got sick, but Seb was always a damn tough kid.
'And I wasn't. I wasn't any sort of tough or strong. I was just a stupid fish in an aquarium, swimming along and going nowhere, and wishing I was a fish because then I wouldn't know I was going nowhere, and it wouldn't hurt so much....'
Oh, Sebby, Col thought, those strange, un-Sebby like thoughts he had uttered about being a fish in an aquarium, all that despair and helplessness. That had never been about Sebby. That was about leaving someone he loved, trapped and helpless and unable to break out.
'Sebby rescued me before he died. He told me I wasn't a stupid fucking fish. That I needed to smash those walls, and I would survive. Because I could breathe outside those walls. He knew it, and he believed in me.'
And Col had thought Sebby was giving up? He should have known better. Sebby was a fighter to the last, he'd just changed battles. He couldn't fight for his life any more, but he knew there was another life worth fighting for and he did all he could to prove it to Hal in those last few days.
Hal was going on, softer-voiced, but no less intense. 'I would have done exactly as my dad wanted, and worked at something to do with cattle. Because that was the family business, raising prize-winning Black Angus cattle, and I was going into the family business, no arguments allowed. I would have gone to Ag College, even though I didn't give a shit about going to Ag College.
'The thing is, Sebby made me promise to live his life, in a way. I couldn't exactly live his life. But I could live the life I wanted, if I was strong enough and brave enough to do it. If I had the guts. And yeah, he also made me give him his first kiss. That bit is totally true. And it was my first real kiss too, the one that really mattered,' Hal blinked rapidly, his voice going hoarse. 'And the one I'll always remember. And if it hadn't been for Sebby, no, hell, I never would have had the guts to kiss another guy. Ever. That was the first step, for me, and Sebby wouldn't let me go back after that. He knew and I knew I wasn't just doing it to humour him, or out of the goodness of my heart, or fuck, because he was dying. He knew he was dying, and he had to leave me.' Hal struggled for composure for a moment, and swiped away the sudden glint of tears, and truth be told, Col struggled against his own tears, desperately. Oh, dear God Sebby, fighting, always fighting, never giving up. Fighting for his best friend, his love… the love of his desperately short life.
'Yeah, Col, Sebby knew he was dying. Of course he did. And you knew, too. You didn't lie to him. You just played pretend for a few minutes. Or not even that, because I think you really did believe if he had lived, he would be an amazing person, and do amazing things. He certainly thought you believed that. And he was amazing, and he did do something amazing with his life. He just didn't have a lot of time to do it. But what you said gave him this crazy idea that he was going to make me have a better life, if he could. He made me promise to do the stuff that he'd never get to do. So that I'd face up to who I really was supposed to be, and not have a life I didn't want.' Hal went quiet for a moment; something Colin was beginning to think wasn't possible. Hal scrubbed at his face wearily, and then turned to Colin with a sad smile. 'It wasn't fucking easy being Seb sometimes, or even just being the person I was supposed to be, believe me. But I did my best.
'And maybe I didn't have Sebby's amazing life. Because that's impossible, to have his life. But I have mine, because of Seb, and because you put the crazy idea somehow into his head that he would do something amazing and great. That he could do something that mattered, even with just the few days he had left. And he did. He really did.
'Sebby was so tired at the end, he was fucking exhausted, you know he was. He was ready, he'd fought every step of the way, but he knew it was over for him. He was just too damn tired, and it was time for him. But it wasn't over for me, he knew that, not if I could fight and keep on fighting, and stop acting as if I'd already given up. So while you were saying all those things to Seb, you know what? He was thinking of me, and the kind of life I could have, if I tried. And that's why I'm here. Stupid as it may seem. Because this was part of what I promised Sebby. I'd celebrate his twenty first birthday with you, at the Rose and Thorn Pub in Newtown. If Sebby had lived, he would have been here, hell or high water. And I'm telling you, he would have wanted that birthday kiss too. But here I am, well, as close as I could get.
'And here you are. Because you cared so much you still kept the date. You remembered. Sebby thought you would. In fact he said you would. And I'm so glad you did, because I wanted to thank you. I wanted to say thank you, from both of us. From Sebby, and from me.'
'I didn't do anything, Hal. It was Sebby. It was all Sebby. I just said a lot of stupid stuff I shouldn't -'
'Oh, hell, yeah you did do something.' Hal leaned forward, smiling and almost laughing, though his eyes were still glittering with unshed tears. 'You did something amazing, Col O'Ryan. You really believed in Sebby, in what he could do and be, if he had the time, and he may have had only a few days left, but he didn't waste them. Or that belief. He made something great happen. At least I think so. He made me happen. Tired as he was, dying, it didn't matter, he kept fighting for me to have an amazing life.
'You know, Sebby would have died, and I would have gone back to Marwillbah, and I would have been grieving and devastated and broken without him. And it would have passed, I would have grieved, but I wouldn't have done anything special, or even honest, with my life. Instead I went home with a responsibility, I had a fucking vision - and promises to keep. And I tried my best, so I could sit here six years later, and tell you and myself, yeah, Sebby Andersson had his first kiss. And hell, I was the guy lucky enough to share it with him. And Sebby Andersson did do a great thing in the world, even if no one would ever know, and yeah, Sebby Andersson had a bloody amazing life and did amazing things. I am his - I don't know, legacy, his memorial - and I've got to live up to that. And I've tried and I'm going to keep on trying.'
This was Sebby's memorial, not a building, not a scholarship, not a sporting award. This was Sebby's living, breathing memorial, right there in front of Col.
'And I'm glad you're here, and I could tell you. Because you're the only person in the world who will understand all the stuff I've just said. And what part you played in making sure Sebby Andersson got his first kiss, and for a few days maybe, he got to fall in love, and yeah, he broke my heart... but...' Hal clearly just couldn't go on for a moment. 'But, fuck it was worth it. It will always be worth it to have loved my Sebby, and to let him know exactly how I felt.'
The tapas bar was eerily silent. Hal had probably been a little loud, and certainly very intense, and the few people there and the waiters couldn't help but stop and listen, at least without trying to make it obvious. Hell, for a moment you could have heard a pin drop. It was just silence. Who knew if they approved of some of what Hal said? Maybe a few were shocked by some of it, none of them probably understood the import of any of it. But Col did, and it was the strangest feeling, as if he suddenly looked at the world and all the pieces subtly rearranged themselves. Made a pattern he had never seen before.
So, I'll definitely see you in six years, Colin O'Ryan? It's a date and don't you dare forget to turn up. I'll be there. Whatever happens, I'll be there. You remember that. I don't want to be stood up for my first kiss.
Whatever happens... And yeah, Sebby was there, right there, where the old Rose and Thorn Pub used to be, and he was keeping their date, just as he said he would. He'd always been there, Col just hadn't known. Colin had scanned that stupid country newspaper for years and never seen Sebby's memorial. Col's gaze had probably passed over a few pictures of Daniel Halstead in that time, because everyone in Marwillbah got their photo in the local paper sooner or later. Hal had probably been some kid in a checked shirt and dirty jeans, helping out at a cattle auction, or at the local agricultural show, or in a photo celebrating who knew what at the local high school. Or the kid who'd almost come first in the state with his marks in the HSC. Small events, small and big battles, and every day Hal must have gotten up and fought some tough battles. And won some too. Fought them alone, because they were his battles to fight, just as Sebby had fought alone for that agonising last year of his life. And Sebby had never given up, of course he hadn't, he'd just changed what he was fighting for, who he was fighting for.
Col had toasted Sebby Andersson with fine Irish whiskey and with good beer, bottled water and some pretty ordinary wine over the years. He'd drank to the memory of a brave boy, who'd always fought, never realising exactly how bloody amazing Sebby Andersson had been, and all he'd done. It didn't matter, what mattered was that Sebby Andersson did get his first kiss and he did do amazing things in the world.
'Thank you.' Col wasn't sure he could talk for a moment, and he had to clear his throat before going on. 'It can't have been easy sharing all of that with a stranger. But you have no idea what it means to me. Because for years I've been convinced I did something terrible, and maybe I did. But maybe some good came out of it. Though I suspect Sebby would have got there anyway, without a word from me. But it's kind of you to let me think that maybe I had a hand in this, that maybe I didn't really fuck up. Or maybe I did, but it worked out.'
'You had more than a hand in it, Col, otherwise why would I be sitting here tonight? I mean, the pub isn't even here. I almost didn't come in here, because that's crazy, right? But I had to be sure, so I came in. And here you are, so not so crazy after all. Tonight was about Sebby telling you it did matter, to tell you what he thought you needed to know. That you deserved to know what a great thing you did for him. For both of us.
'And I wanted to thank you, for both of us. For Sebby, and for me…'
What could Col say? Even if he could find his voice, what could he say to that?
'Here.' Hal was holding out a handkerchief. 'It's clean. I made sure I brought a few spare. Just in case.'
'No, that's fine. Really.' Because what Col felt right then wasn't the need for tears, what he really felt was the need for laughter, wild ridiculous laughter. He wanted to laugh out loud. Talk about a love story, because that was what it was, Hal and Sebby, a hell of a love story, and it deserved to be celebrated.
Col wanted to dance. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to celebrate Sebby Andersson, and his first kiss and his bloody amazing life. And he wanted to celebrate Hal, too, and his amazing life.
And for a moment, Col looked into a pair of whiskey-coloured eyes, under untidy brown hair, and just for a moment Sebby looked back, grinning.
Hal obviously found Col's silence and expression a bit unnerving. 'Okay, that's what I needed to say. Thank you for listening. Oh, before I go… I'm sorry in advance, but Sebby would never forgive me if he didn't get his birthday kiss.' Hal launched himself forward across the table, and there was that fierce wicked grin, which was all Hal and none of Sebby, and right then and there, Col O'Ryan got his first kiss. Not a first kiss in the sense that he'd never been kissed before, but the first kiss in his life that really mattered, and the kiss he was never, ever going to forget.
'Well…' Hal looked flustered as he sat back down, blinking at Col, as if puzzled. 'Right, well, I really should get going. It was good to see you again. I mean to really meet… if you know what I mean.'
'And you. It was good to see you again, Hal. And thank you again for keeping…the date.' Col felt so odd, so strangely removed from the situation. Of course he was being stupid, it had been a kiss between near strangers, nothing more, on top of a highly charged emotional situation. Of course it had seemed to be something more than it actually was. Back to fucking imagining things already, Col? Would he never learn?
Hal nodded, and stood up, then looked at Col, head tilted, still looking puzzled and uncertain. 'Col - do you want to get out of here? Maybe, I don't know - go out dancing?'
Col looked at that suddenly shy smile, which was at odds with the wild, hot light in Hal's eyes, feeling displaced and just as flustered. 'I…'
'Right. Sorry. Stupid idea. I'll just go.' Hal walked away a few paces, and then he swung around and came back, standing there, leaning over Col, almost pressing against him, staring him down. 'Just say yes, Col. Please? Or I'm going to stay right here, in the middle of this bloody tapas bar and I'll kiss you again. With everyone staring. And I don't bloody care.'
There was the weirdest prickling all over Col's skin, as if... as if what? His Gran would have said somebody had walked over his grave, which was a morbid thought, especially on this night. But no, it wasn't like that, it was as if someone had thrown their arms around him tightly for a moment, and just gently pressed a kiss on his cheek and laughed softly in his ear.
'In that case, I-I'd, yes, I'd really like to go out dancing, Hal.' And Col suddenly felt a curious, fragile hope bloom, looking at Hal, the hope that in an amazing life, there might just be room for one more love story.