Page 90 of Sing it, Sam

“It’s not so bad here, though. Probably because the phone reception is shit.”

“Maybe, but country life is different. It’s grass roots. There’s more time spent talking to one another, more community spirit. That’s non-existent in Sydney—at least in my experience.”

“That’s kinda sad,” I say and pout. “I don’t think I could ever live in a big city.”

“No?” he asks, a frown marring his forehead.

I shrug. “When my parents finally get over the travelling bug, they’ll be back. I’d like to think that I’ll be there for them when they grow old.”

“You’re devoted to your family. I get it, but—”

“I just can’t see life taking me to the big smoke.”End of story.

A shiver runs through me, my skin pebbling with bumps. I take a look at my fingertips, not surprised to find them waterlogged. Sam’s lips are a slight tinge of blue.Yeah, it’s time to get out.

“Come on, let’s dry off. I’m all pruny,” I say, and hold out my hands.

I help Sam over to the rug where the afternoon sun continues to beam down. The moment the rays hit my skin, I start to warm up. I drape a fluffy beach towel over Sam’s shoulders and rub either side of his arms.

“You want the shirt back on?” I ask, holding it up.

“Nah, might catch some rays. It’s been a while.”

“Cool.”I get to gawk at you some more. Bonus. I wrap the towel underneath my arms, and tuck the corner of it between my boobs.

Once Sam is comfortable on his side, I take out a jar of salsa and pop open a packet of cheesy corn chips. We dive into the snacks, the crunch in our mouths battling against the chirping of the birds above.

“You say you can’t see yourself in the city,” Sam asks. “So wheredoyou want life to take you?”

Well, isn’t that the question of all questions? Whilst my answer might disappoint him, I can only be honest. “I’m still trying to work it out. Standing on my own two feet has been a challenge.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” he says, and shuffles his legs a little.

“Shit, sorry.” I flash him a soft smile. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do. Just givin’ you a hard time.”

“I’m taking it as it comes, working it out along the way.” I let out a slow breath and take another corn chip from the packet. “What about you? I mean why did you leave the city?”

He sighs. “It got too much.”

“Yeah?”

“I thought I was livin’ the dream, but one morning I crashed hard and ended up in hospital with chest pains.”

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath. Someone of his age with chest pains? That’s serious. “What happened? Was that the start of GBS?”

“Nah, not GBS. I’d just pushed myself too far. The alcohol. Stuff. I’d get caught up sometimes. Everyone wants to drink with the band. You’d drink and laugh, but they’d all be so drunk. For whatever reason, I decided to join them. I’d get on the rum, get into rounds of shouts, but the people I drank with were never true friends. The locals, they loved hearing me sing my new stuff, but the blow-ins, the tourists, they just wanted their favourite songs. They wanted a jukebox who they could boss around and treat like shit.”

“That’s unfair.” I can’t imagine anyone around here being like that towards a musician. Yes, karaoke night at the Commercial Hotel on Main Street can get out of control sometimes, but that’s mainly because it only comes to town every couple of months. People get a little overexcited, but they’d never do anything to upset Sarah, the karaoke lady.

“Yeah, but I let them. When I hit a low, I did shit I’m not proud of. I forgot who I was and turned into that guy who just lived for the moment—never thinking so much about tomorrow, or about the future. Until one morning, I took a good, hard look at myself in the mirror. After one big night too many, I looked like I’d been hit by a Mack truck. My eyes were yellowed, my skin was breaking out from eating junk food, and I hadn’t exercised for months, which was something that was such a big part of my life. My voice was starting to suffer, and then the chest pains … it was the sign I needed to get out.”

I take a good look at Sam, wondering what that version of him might’ve looked like. The Sam before me—his skin is smooth, his eyes clear, and although I know he doesn’t get the exercise he might have once had, he looks trim, healthy.Hot.

“I had to leave before the darkness of the city swallowed me. I didn’t want to be that pub singer who didn’t go anywhere. I wanted more than that. I wanted to be all that my mother said I could be, what she harped on about all those years—going all the way with the talent that God gave me. So that’s how I ended up here. I couldn’t go back to Logan, but I’d heard about Willow Creek. Coming to this town was the change I needed to focus on my music. It’s just a shame I only got to enjoy the fresh air and solitude for a few weeks before everything turned to shit.”

“Yeah, but look at you now,” I say with a shrug. I wave my hand at our surroundings. “Back with the fresh air and all.”

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