Cash laughs and then flips the paper over. “The town hall is in need of a ‘spruce up.’ There are damaged chairs and peeling paint. We’re looking for volunteers. Mr. Williams is going to be adding more timeline art to the walls once the repairs have been completed, though he voices his concern that Luke’s Hardwareacross the road hasn’t been spruced up in years, and the owner refuses to do any updates, preferring rustic. It’s bringing down the entire island.Someone needs to speak to Luke and make him see reason.”
I grin. “Luke is a trip. If he wants to live rustic, then let him. It’s not like we have market value that we need to worry about. Houses don’t last long on the market.”
“Which brings us to the next article,” Cash says, nudging his shoulder into mine so I read it.
“The housing issues on Kala grow. There’s talk of discontinuing rentals of the small bungalows on the western side of Bane and the southern beach of Keone Reef to allow for more residential living. The two islands have run out of real estate to expand as the growth of the resort continues. The island chain expansion is still in the earliest stages and will not see completion for many years. In the meantime, the team is looking for some creative solution ideas for housing. We want to allow our young people to stay on Kala or return home after school, but if there aren’t any places for them except their childhood bedrooms, we’re quickly going to lose an entire generation.
“Do not misunderstand. We’re not in a housing crisis. We’re trying to stay ahead of that eventuality. Let’s begin planning now. Any ideas, please submit them to the Guardian Archives for consideration, and we’ll discuss them at the next Resident Meeting on the eighth.”
“I need to mark my calendar for the eighth,” Cash says as he pulls his phone out to do so. “Want me to share?”
“Yes, please.” A minute later, my phone dings that he’s added me to his calendar event. “I agree with this. I’d love to move out. I feel like I’m still a kid.”
“Tell me about it. I’d love to get away from Ben and let him be a dick to someone else for a change.”
“We could totally be roommates,” I say, grinning.
“Obviously. That’s always been the plan.”
“At least you have the extra space the garage offers. He’s not inside making all that noise where you can’t get away from him.”
Cash hums in acknowledgement.
There are a total of eight houses between Bane and Keone Reef that have garages. I think it spoke to a time when they thought automobiles would fill the islands like they have the rest of the world. Thankfully, they’ve never been needed outside of isolated situations. I’m not sad about it.
Those houses are aggressively sought after for the extra space. Some have been turned into studio apartments. Others remain gathering or storage areas like Cash’s.
Speaking of the garage. Through the window, we hear the garage door lift. That means Ben’s home, likely with his bandmates, and they will be practicing.
I’ll hand it to them. They practice a lot. It shows, too. They’re very talented, in sync, and play highly varied songs, though the style remains the same.
Anyone who has ever heard Benson open his mouth when he’s not singing knows that Whiskey Horizons is hoping for a big breakthrough with a record company somewhere in the world to take them away from Kala, never to return. He’s determined to get away from the gay island and leave it behind for good.
As far as I’m concerned, bye bitch. He has a lot of aggressive borderline bigotry for being raised on Kala by gay parents and surrounded by thousands of queer people every single day of his life.
Part of me wonders if something happened to him as a kid. Maybe he was rejected. Maybe someone hurt him. There are bad people everywhere and within every community. There’s a distinct possibility that something happened to trigger Benson to turn into the asshole he is.
His target is always Cash. He doesn’t seem to care about anyone else specifically. He’s disgusted by the world around him, and while the world around him is queer, I don’t actually think his hostility is toward queer people. I think he wants to escape something here.
I’ve been in the world outside, though. They’re going to eat him whole. Part of me can’t wait to see it because of the way he treats his brother.
“Okay, save the rest for tomorrow,” I tell Cash. “I’m going to head home. Maybe I can sneak in before Mom gets home, so I don’t have to listen to her disappointment at me for quitting another job.”
He snorts as I roll off the bed. “Good luck with that.”
“I mean, you and I both know the quickest way to send me off the edge is to snap your fingers at me like I’m a damn dog. I’m going to lose my shit. Which I did. I quit before I could be fired.”
Cash shakes his head without comment. He’s sitting now as he folds the newsletter. “See you tomorrow.”
I wave. I rarely wear shoes, but when I have to cross the paved roads, I do. The ground isn’t always glass- and rock-free like our grassy backyards.
It’s still early enough in the year that the sun is almost set. The island, with its glass dome lights on tall, carved poles, makes the entire neighborhood look enchanted. I cross the road and then jog along the side, so I’m almost always in the grass. I cut through Miss Florence’s yard and across Jim and Tim Thompson’s yard until I’m on my street.
I pass Laiken’s house, refusing to look at his windows to see if there are lights on and if he’s home. Don’t care. Don’t care.
However, I cut up the side of his house so I can come in through the glass doors in the kitchen. Most of the time, that’s the safest set of doors to avoid my mother. Today I’m wrong, though. Not only is my mother in the kitchen, but so are Laikenand my father. I can’t even sneak around the front of the house since Dad and Laiken see me.
My shoulders fall. Fuck.
