About Kereru Rising
by Kate Roman
46 pages / 12300 words
ISBN: 978-1-61040-224-8
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The happiest time of Jay Bridgeman's life was the year he spent as an exchange student in West Auckland, New Zealand. Newly-divorced, he can't wait to escape frozen Michigan to attend his high-school reunion on the other side of the world--and hopefully catch up with the best friend he ever had, Eru Kauri. But their worlds seem farther apart than ever. Jay can't seem to find a way back -- until Eru shows him the way forward.
Sample
Jay came back to himself with a start and looked around
the motel room.
The wallpaper, bedspread, and carpet were in shades of beige, and the wide
king-sized bed dominated the room. Above the bed hung a framed print of the
birds that gave the motel its name: four of the huge, green-and-white native
woodpigeons flew against a background of distinctively New Zealand bush. Jay
got up for a closer look.
Kereru in Flight. The name was printed across the bottom of the picture, and
Jay lifted a finger to the glass covering the nearest bird. He'd loved
walking in the woods with Eru, listening while the Māori boy talked about
the trees and the birds, playing hide and seek amid the alien trees and
ferns, and dunking each other in the ice-cold springs.
Restlessly, he turned away. On the nightstand, the clock glowed green:
five-forty-eight. It took Jay a minute to figure out whether that meant a.m.
or p.m. He was too tired to figure out what time it would be in Detroit.
Flopping back on the bed, Jay covered his face with his hands, unable to
keep his emotions in check any longer. Eru. Eru.
Memories of the year he'd spent as Eru's shadow, friend, and constant
companion were so precious, Jay rarely let himself indulge in remembrance.
Now, the images flooded his tired brain: he and Eru going for long runs
through the woods that covered the Waitakere Ranges; he and Eru cracking up
over their textbooks in the Kauri kitchen, Eru's mom shaking her head
indulgently at them both while she cooked dinner, the smell of broiled pork
and roasted kumara filling the air; the sound of Eru, late at night in the
room they shared, gasping his way to completion in the opposite bed while
Jay’s own hand worked frantically under the blankets. Ostensibly, they were
both staring up at a poster of Claudia Schiffer in a skimpy white swimsuit,
but for Jay the image of Eru, naked, sweaty and sleepy, had always been far
more compelling.
Jay sighed, giving in to his exhaustion.
He hadn't heard from Eru in fifteen long years. Hell, he had no idea if the
guy was still in the country. But sitting in the empty, desolate Tudor house
in snow-covered Victoria Park, Michigan, reading over his divorce papers one
more time, Jay only knew the heavy cardstock of the reunion invitation had
felt like a golden ticket in his hands, a visa to someplace that, if not as
perfect as Jay's memories allowed, would at least get him out of Detroit.
Five-fifty-three.
Jay glanced at the bedside clock once again, then gave in to the
overwhelming whirl of exhaustion and lost himself in memories of Eru's
broad, dark chest and the look in his eyes when he smiled.