The Gate

The Gate

'Bored. That's a triple word-score and precisely how I feel.' Shaun turned from the small, Formica table and Scrabble board to look out of the window. The light of the stars in the clear, night sky was blurred by condensation. He groaned, feeling the damp patch on his left shoulder where he'd leant against the glass.
Up the hill, at the festival site, there was probably singing, dancing, and a bonfire of wild flames reaching into the darkness, aspiring to the heavens with ripples of rising heat. Down at the dusty roadside lay-by, in the cramped caravan at the entrance to the site, there was nothing but long silences occasionally interrupted by passing cars, headlights starkly illuminating the drab interior.
'Don't you want to play anymore?' asked Sarah, toying with the letters she had left, trying to form a word.
'I didn't want to play in the first place, let alone anymore,' he replied miserably.
'Fine, I'll pack it away then.' Agitation crept into Sarah's tone. Shaun had been in a foul mood all day, one that had been coming and going since they'd first arrived a week ago. In fact, he hadn't been himself for a while now and his continuing depression and unwillingness to discuss it were creating distance between them. She could feel it widening, sense it becoming greater with every word left unsaid, the silence sometimes deafening.
'Do you feel like helping me set up the bed?' she asked, brushing a few strands of long, black hair from her face.
Shaun sighed and turned to look into her hazel eyes. 'Why did we volunteer for the gate? We're missing most of the events.' He paused and glanced at the Scrabble board. 'And most of the fun.'
Sarah stared at him sadly. 'I thought it would be nice for us to spend some time together, and I seem to remember that you agreed. This is supposed to be a chance for us to recharge our batteries.' She picked up the Scrabble board, bent it at the centre and tipped it. The letters slid into the box, words tumbling, mixing, coming apart, the board left empty. 'We could always request a transfer to a different duty. After all, there's no real reason why we have to stay on the gate the whole time.'
Shaun frowned, but said nothing in response to her suggestion.
'What if I look after the gate tomorrow, then you can go up to the hill?' Sarah tried to smile as she put the lid on the Scrabble box. 'Maybe you could join in with some of the arts and crafts classes. You might get some inspiration and start painting again,' she suggested hopefully, knowing it had been months since Shaun had last picked up a brush.
'Great,' he responded without enthusiasm as he looked down at the frayed rip in the left knee of his blue jeans.
'Well, what the hell do you want then?' asked Sarah angrily, surprising herself with the outburst, having been unaware of the heated feelings she was harbouring within.
'I don't know,' replied Shaun without looking up at her, shrugging his shoulders and sighing.
Sarah stood and noisily tucked the box into the store cupboard above her head, slamming the door shut in annoyance. The force ripped the inadequate hinge from the wood and the chipboard clattered loudly to the floor, coming to rest on the muddied, orange carpet.
They both looked down at it for a few moments and then turned to each other. The laughter began softly at first and then became more raucous. They both saw the funny side of what had happened and indulged in the mirth, glad of the respite from more weighty thoughts and feelings. The tension that had been building found its grateful release, melting away into the night.
As the laughter died away, Sarah sat down on the cushioned seat opposite Shaun. 'Sorry,' she said quietly.
'I'm the one who should be apologising,' replied Shaun.
'I'm not going to argue about that.' She smiled and took hold of his hands, squeezing them affectionately.
Together they removed the table and unfolded the bed sheets. Sarah put down the thick, grey blanket on which they slept to ease the hardness of the floor, while Shaun got the two, joined sleeping bags out of a cupboard. Soon their bed was arranged, sky blue pillows being the final touch.
Sarah turned off the battery powered lights and, after a few moments of adjustment, they saw that the interior of the caravan was coated in mercury light slanting in through the windows as the moon rose into the night sky. Their skin touched with silver, they undressed in silence and climbed into the bed. They held each other in the gloom and felt the comforting warmth of their closeness.
'I love you,' whispered Sarah as they lay on their sides looking into each other's shadowy eyes. Shaun didn't answer, remained silent as she leant forward and kissed him.
Sarah was soon fast asleep. Leaning over her momentarily, Shaun could just make out the fluttering of her eyelashes as she dreamt. He lay back and leant on his left hand. Her back faced him and he played his fingertips lightly over Sarah's smooth skin, followed her spine down to the top of her small, firm buttocks.
Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply her soft scent. Then he looked out of the windows on the opposite side of the caravan to see the world shrouded in pale skinned darkness. Shaun couldn't sleep, didn't feel any hint of tiredness. There was a strange restlessness building within him, stirring deep within his being, originating from a place he could neither name nor identify.
Slowly and carefully, Shaun got out of bed and felt the cool air upon his skin. He stood for a while in his navy boxers staring at the slow rise and fall of Sarah's breathing beneath the deep blue of the sleeping bags.
Making as little noise as possible, he fumbled in the darkness in search of his clothes. Eventually he managed to get dressed, socks proving elusive, but finally discovered in a corner of deep shadow.
Going to the other end of the small caravan, Shaun put on his boots and fawn jacket. Opening the door, he took a few deep breaths of fresh air and then stepped outside.
He walked to the five bar, wooden gate. Two paths began at its mouth. On the left was a rough track leading up the hill to the camping and entertainments fields. To the right a lane wound round the side of the hill to a farm. Shaun strained to hear any sounds of activity from the festival site, but there were none. The only noises he could hear were crickets chirruping in the hedgerows and roadside verges, along with the distant sound of the sea stroking the shore in a calming rhythm carried on the breeze.
Shaun climbed up on the gate, turning his back on the two paths, facing the road and the rolling darkness of the hills beyond. He could see hedges criss-crossing the moonlit landscape and the occasional black bulk of a farmhouse.
A sense of tranquillity filled him as he sat listening to the ocean. It had been a long time since he'd felt this way, not since before moving to the city over six months ago. He was glad of this brief break from the concrete drudgery, though his mood had yet to respond to the wide open spaces of the Cornish countryside.
Shaun saw the moon reflected in one of the darkened upstairs window of a farmhouse. He looked up to find The Plough and Orion in the arc of the heavens alongside the white maiden of the sky. The irritation and mood swings of the past week, along with the trapped and frustrated feelings of living in the city, began to drift away on the breeze.
He knew he should have talked about his feelings with Sarah, that she feared his recent moroseness had something to do with their relationship. But he found himself tongue-tied, unable to tell her what he felt, fully aware that she loved the city. It had been Sarah's idea to move there in the first place and he could plainly see how happy she was. It was this happiness that stopped him voicing his own discontent.
A delicate wash of soft light eventually appeared on the eastern horizon and the sky began to change from black to deep blue. As time passed the stars winked out one by one and the dawn brightened, the moon sinking from sight.
An urgent feeling spread through Shaun suddenly. It was as if a floodgate had been opened, his whole body tingling with excitement and anticipation. He jumped down from the gate and quickly went back to the caravan with a new sense of purpose.
Inside, without any lighting and with as little sound as possible, he hunted through their things. Eventually he found what he was looking for, his heart now beating fast and fingers trembling slightly.
Shaun rushed back out into the early morning of waking birds, put the items he'd retrieved on the roof of the caravan and then clambered up after them, using the door handle as a foothold. He sat on the roof and got as comfortable as possible, feeling the morning moisture penetrating the seat of his old jeans as he readied the equipment.
Unrolling the sheet of canvas, he taped its corners onto the makeshift backing board, the broken cupboard door finding a new use. Then he opened the box of paints and smiled at the crumpled and curled tubes of oils and the colour-spattered brushes.
The light steadily increased as he began to paint the landscape. His strokes came quickly and easily, the trembling in his hands stopping the instant he picked up a brush. The painting flowed through him, became part of his experience in the moment. Shaun seemed to transcend any individuality, his self and ego vanishing as the brush caressed the canvas.
The sun rose and he felt a touch of warmth like a soft breath upon his skin as it lifted above the horizon with bold majesty. He sat atop the caravan at the gate and witnessed the birth of a glorious new day, the night passing in silence.
With the last passes of the brush, the last licks of paint to complete the depiction, the caravan door opened. Shaun looked down to his right and found Sarah staring up at him, her smile brighter than the rising sun.
'You're painting again.' Her eyes sparkled with happiness despite being hooded and sleepy.
'I've just finished,' replied Shaun, his face glowing golden in the sunlight.
Making sure Sarah couldn't see the painting, Shaun climbed down to her side. He looked into her brown eyes and turned the board round so that she could see his new creation. 'This is for you.'
Sarah stared at the painting, tears welling in her eyes as she turned back to Shaun. 'It's beautiful,' she whispered, his actions telling her all she needed to know without need of words, his eyes filled with a depth of emotion she'd thought all but lost.
He leant forward and kissed her tenderly, their eyes closing briefly.
'Fancy a game of Scrabble?' he asked with a smile as they parted, knowing their paths had become one once more.