Port Elliot

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Chapter 1

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"Welcome to Adelaide, Australia, where the local time is ten-forty-six AM. The current temperature is twenty-three degrees. We've enjoyed having you fly with us and hope you choose us again for whatever your travel needs." The announcement ended with a pair of high-pitched bells sounding through the cabin.

Aaron Cuthbert sat staring out the window. It had been twenty-three degrees when he had left Minneapolis the day before, yet this was a different twenty-three. Celsius instead of Fahrenheit. Outside the small oval window, he could see the bustling commotion of the airport. A plane sat on the ground opposite his view. Two men dressed in shorts and an orange safety vest were loading the jet with the luggage of other travellers flying to parts unknown. It was a far different view from the one he'd had the day before, where the same windows showed mountains of snow pushed to the side where it would take months to finally melt.

The plane rocked a bit and a moment later another tone chimed through the cabin. The captain made an announcement about getting the doors to the plane ready to open. Aaron was more than ready to start his new life, the adventure that would begin once the passengers started their leisurely escape from the pressurised tube he'd spent the last nineteen hours growing to hate. It was not the plane's fault. At that moment, Aaron was full of hate.

His thumb caressed his finger, where until a month ago there had been a wedding ring. It had taken Aaron nearly a month to get used to that ring after he said, "I do." How long would it take to grow accustomed to that ring being absent now that I do has become "I do no longer?" The divorce wasn't exactly final; his lawyer would have to stand before the judge and finalise the proceedings, but his part had ended. The details had been hammered home, the property divided, and the checks written, to the lawyers, the realtors, and to each other.

Minneapolis had been bleak. A divorce during the coldest, darkest, most dreary month had somehow made the city where he'd grown up, fell in love, felt heartbreak and fell in love again before learning that the romance glorified in Hollywood movies didn't always have a happy ending, feel more than depressing. It had felt cloying, claustrophobic and miserable, like that of a mourner standing in front of a coffin for the very first time. And wasn't divorce just the death of a marriage? His divorce had come slowly, like a long, lingering illness. Maybe if Kasey had cheated on him, he would not have felt so lost.

The thought of staying in Minneapolis, the only place he had ever lived, had lost any appeal. How many times could he listen to his coworkers offer their condolences or call his wife a bitch that didn't deserve him? How many times could he listen to Kasey tell him that it wasn't his fault, that she just didn't love him anymore? What if he ran into her? What if he ran into her friends? Maybe he was running away. Hell, he was running away. Flying half-way around the world to put the cold Minnesota winter behind him. To put Kasey behind him.

It was time to start again.

He had felt silly, searching the internet for places as far from Minneapolis as he could find. Perth was the farthest, but it was a little larger than he wanted. He settled on Port Elliot, a small coastal city on the southern coast of Australia, a short drive south from where he had just landed. With the proceeds in his account from selling their homes, he had more than enough money to start over. To begin again in a place where no one knew him or how his heart was aching for the marriage that he knew was ending a year before it died. He would find a place to live while looking for work. Soon enough he would settle into a place where twenty-three degrees meant wearing shorts and t-shirts instead of heavy pants, wool jackets, scarves, hats and gloves. He would watch Christmas movies taking place at the beach instead of freezing cities where the breath of the actors would hang in place like cartoon bubbles. And maybe he would find someone new.

Something new.

The passengers began deplaning, slowly shuffling up the aisle. Soon enough it was time for Aaron to take his place in line. He grabbed his jacket, giving a lopsided grin at the thought of carrying such a heavy coat on such a fine day. He fished his tablet and cell phone from the pocket in front of him, then popped up, joining the procession in the aisle.

An hour later, Aaron Cuthbert was driving a rented SUV, at first flummoxed by driving on the opposite side than he was used to before finding it a distracting challenge. It kept his mind off his divorce and on the road. By the time he had left the city and was cruising south on the A-13, he was feeling quite confident. He would make it to town long before the sun set, find a hotel, and then begin his search for a job when the sun rose on a brand-new day. And isn't that precisely what he was looking for?

The drive south was pleasant enough. He motored through a few small towns, stopping for a bottle of water in the hamlet of Mount Compass. There were rolling hills all around him but nothing that he would call a mountain. Still, it was a pleasant enough drive.

He kept moving south with most of his focus on learning to drive on what he would call "wrong side" every time he got behind the wheel of his rented SUV. The rest of his attention was on the surrounding landscape. Aaron stared beyond the windshield, looking for kangaroos, and finding only disappointment when he spotted horses or cows or flocks of sheep. Where were the kangaroos? Each time a field was swallowed by the surrounding forest he would quietly pout until the forest opened up on another field, only to find that disappointment again.

On the radio, he heard an advertisement for a product he had never heard of being sold in a city that he did not know existed. It was there, with trees on either side of him and the sun shining down from directly overhead that Aaron finally felt like he had left Minnesota behind. He was truly on his own. A stranger in a strange land, as Heinlein once wrote.

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Chapter 2

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After a ninety minute or so drive from the heart of the capital city of South Australia, Adelaide, Aaron entered Port Elliot. The GPS gave him directions to his hotel but as the day was young and the overhead sun quite bright, Aaron opted for some sightseeing, just to pass the time and isn't that all he had now? Time? Time to do what he wanted without having to think about everything he had left behind or the fact that he was a coward running away from everything he had known all because what? His heart was broken?

He drove east down the main street of Port Elliot, North Terrace. Open fields on his left and squat single store homes to his right reminded him of the suburbs where he had grown up. If it wasn't for "wrong side," he could just as easily been driving in Minnesota instead of Port Elliot, Australia.

Further along, while driving down the street, he first saw a pharmacy and a doctor's office on his right sharing a building. Next, Aaron saw the Port Elliot bakery on his left, the name of the business painted on its grey metal roof. He didn't know it at the time, but this was the place that everyone talked about. He would learn very quickly that this place sold the best pies, donuts, cakes, and the like, not just in Port Elliot but the state of South Australia itself. Over to Aaron's right, he saw the local drive-through bottle shop, which Aaron found unusual. It was like a McDonald's drive-through, but instead of serving hamburgers and french fries, a driver could purchase his alcohol without even leaving his car! He smiled at that, wondering if this encouraged drinking and driving, while knowing that it did not.

Next along the road, still on the right, was one of the two pubs in the town. Through the windows, Aaron saw a few patrons at the bar drinking. As Aaron continued to drive along the road, he saw the local supermarket. However, it wasn't your typical supermarket. It was quite small, more a corner store than anything else. Aaron made a mental note of its location, as it was one of the first places he needed to go.

Further along the street, Aaron saw a restaurant, a hairdresser, a chicken store -Chicken Run- which reminded him of the claymation movie that had come out many years before. He kept driving, taking in the sites. He wouldn't commit them all to memory, that would come later, but he made a mental note of all the places he might one day visit. He passed a church, and a few other small retail stores. It seemed to Aaron that the town had all the basics, except a gas station, but nothing more. For gas, Aaron would discover that he would have to travel to Victor Harbour to fuel up, which was a short 10-minute drive.

Aaron made a left-hand turn off the main street to a side street that led to his Hotel. It was a small hotel, only two stories high. There was plenty of parking available outside the hotel, though he wasn't sure if it was because of the time of day or was he visiting out of season. It wasn't something he considered when he made his escape from the States.

Aaron drove into a free spot, got out, and retrieved his luggage from the car's "boot", as the Aussies tend to say, rather than the trunk. How many other strange words would he learn and how long until they became part of his vocabulary? The thought of him formed a genuine smile. The first in far too long. For the first time in a week, he thought that maybe he was doing the right thing after all.

With his luggage in hand, Aaron made his way up the steps of the hotel. After greeting the receptionist, a charming middle-aged woman with jet black hair and glasses that were far too big for her face, and filling out some paperwork, Aaron had his key to his room. It was an actual key, not the access key that looked like a credit card that was so commonplace these days. He liked the quaintness of the key.

Aaron took his luggage up to the 2nd floor, and made his way to room number thirteen. It wasn't his favourite number, that was number four, but thirteen came in a very close second. Taking it as a good sign, Aaron opened the door to find a fairly basic room. Aaron wasn't planning on staying here long, so he didn't mind that it wasn't the best hotel room in the world. It had a bed opposite a small flat screen TV. There was a chair sitting in front of a small desk outfitted with a notepad, an ink pen, and a small pamphlet holding a map indicating the nearby sites that tourists found interesting. Still, it was quaint and quiet and clean, so to Aaron it was perfect. He sat on the bed, flipping through the channels on the television, marvelling at how foreign it all was.

Hours later, as it was now almost seven, Aaron's grumbling stomach decided it was time to have dinner. Feeling jet-lagged and tired, Aaron just wanted to order something and eat in his room, so he downloaded an Australian app called "menulog" to see what food he could find. There would be a lot of that in the beginning, getting set up with the apps and hours and oddities that were only odd to him.

None of the local Port Elliot businesses were listed in the app. He had settled on a small town, so he would have to get used to small town ways. It was not an unhappy thought. All he saw was one pizza store that offered delivery from Victor Harbour, a town 15 minutes away, and the ETA on delivery was an hour. Unwilling to wait that long, Aaron decided he would after all eat out. So, he went to the Port Elliot Hotel, which was located next to a train track. The train track was no longer used for commercial purposes. However, each Saturday a few trains would use the track, called the cockle train, which was a train that would take tourists along parts of the South Australian coast.

Aaron walked through the front door of the hotel, where he was greeted and offered a table. After enjoying his meal by himself, Aaron decided to go up to the bar and to talk to some of the locals. The first person Aaron talked to was a fit woman named Jennifer. Jennifer was a woman in her mid-30s. She explained that she was a lifeguard at the Surf Life Saving Club. At this point, Aaron asked if the club was looking to hire some extra lifeguards. Aaron was an excellent swimmer. Minnesota was the land of ten thousand lakes and growing up he had practically taken a dip in all of them. Every summer he would spend hours swimming or water skiing or sailing those countless lakes, and each winter he would ice skate and play hockey on those same bodies of water. He was confident that he could perform the duties. And besides, Aaron was looking for an exciting job. He didn't travel halfway around the world for a retail job.

Jennifer was a bit hesitant at first. "Maybe we can take you on. At the moment, there aren't many people that swim at the beach. However, it's still early December -the very beginning of Summer - and we haven't had any hot days yet. However, in a couple of weeks, the temperatures will start to rise and the folks in Adelaide will come down here to escape the heat. At this point, the beach will be crowded, and we'll need an extra lifeguard or two. So, why don't you give me a call on Monday?" Jennifer asked.

"Certainly, I will. Thank you", Aaron replied, smiling at the thought that December is the beginning of Summer instead of the frozen hellscape of winter back home. Over the next hour, the two of them talked about their different lives. It was where Aaron learned about the train and how it ferried tourists along the coast, and it was the second time he learned about the bakery. The woman that gave him room thirteen had been the first. At eleven, long past his normal bedtime, Aaron returned to his hotel and went to bed.

With the weekend ahead of him and his interview with Jennifer not until Monday, Aaron decided to explore his new home a little more. To start the day, Aaron decided to go for a walk along the main beach of Port Elliot, which is called Horseshoe Bay. Upon getting to the beach, it becomes immediate to Aaron why the beach is called Horseshoe Bay. Sometimes things earn a name because there is nothing else that would fit. Horseshoe Bay earned its name honestly, being shaped exactly like its namesake.

On the right side of the beach, overlooking the harbour, is the local lawn bowls club. Aaron sees a group of 20 gentlemen, all above retirement age, rolling bowls on artificial grass. Further right, Aaron sees a restaurant and an ice cream place, and even further along Aaron sees the Port Elliot Surf Life Saving Club, where he will meet up with Jennifer on Monday.

On the beach itself, Aaron sees a handful of people swimming, a trio of young boys floating atop paddle boards hoping for a wave that doesn't look likely in the barely-there surf, and two lifeguards watching from the beach. On the sand, Aaron sees about two dozen people plus a few dogs walking along the beach. It's surprisingly calm and peaceful. He dips his toes in the water marvelling at how warm the water is, once again thinking about how the water back home is in a much colder and harder state.

After Aaron finishes his walk along the beach, it's lunchtime, so Aaron decides it's time to see this "great bakery" he has been told about. After finding a parking spot out front, Aaron exits his vehicle and walks into the bakery. It's busy inside, which is perfect. It allows Aaron the opportunity to fully explore the menu. The bakery has all sorts of pastries, donuts, sickly sweet honey buns, pies, whole and by the slice, and Quiches. Perusing the menu, Aaron decides to order a creamy chicken and potato pie and a custard Berliner from the young girl behind the counter, whatever those are. When in Rome, after all. After paying, Aaron takes his food and sits at one of the outside tables. It only takes Aaron a few bites to realise that the food is as good as everyone has been raving about. He enjoys his lunch, a far cry from his normal fare back home. But is it home any longer? He would have to give that some thought.

As Aaron is about to leave, another customer, Harry, starts talking to him. After a lengthy discussion, Aaron learns that Harry is a twenty-nine year-old Australian with a similar story to his own. Similarly, Harry is recently divorced and has just moved to this little coastal town to gain a fresh start. "I've got to run," Harry said. "You free for a game of tennis tomorrow?"

"Don't have the gear for it," Aaron admitted with a shrug.

"I've got you covered, mate," Harry said with a little laugh.

Aaron gave a nod. "Then I'd love to." They parted with a firm handshake.

With plans made, Aaron made his way towards his quaint hotel room. On the way home, he stopped at the local mini-supermarket on the main street. Walking down the narrow aisles, Aaron was disappointed by the small range of products and the overly high prices. He chalked it up as one of the disadvantages of living in a semi isolated place. Once Aaron had his basket of groceries - bread and peanut butter, cookies and two bottles of water - Aaron walked up to the shopkeeper, who was casually dressed in torn jeans that had once been blue but were now bleached almost white and a faded tie-dye T-shirt. After paying, Aaron took his groceries back to his hotel.

The next day, Aaron met Harry at the supermarket. Harry explained how the mini supermarket actually doubles as a town centre where you can rent bikes and tennis rackets and courts. There were many things Aaron would have to learn as he settled into his new life and this was one of them. It was quaint and he liked it. Quite a bit. The pair rented a court for four hours, with Harry providing a trio of unopened tins of tennis balls and a nice Head racket for Aaron to use.

Harry led the way to the tennis court, a short five-minute walk from the supermarket. With the court key, Harry unlocked the gate to the tennis court. Over the next few hours, Aaron learned more about his new friend, including the fact that Harry works at the Port Elliot Hotel and that he was a damned fine tennis player. Aaron talked about his divorce and how he was looking for a new start in a new place with new people. "Well, you'll find that here, for sure."

"And kangaroos?"

Harry laughed at that and soon enough Aaron was laughing as well, his question about kangaroos going unanswered.

Hours later, hot and sweaty and a little humbled, Aaron returned to his hotel room while Harry returned the court key to the supermarket. "Good on ya, mate," Harry said as they parted. "That was fun."

"It was. Thank you."

They exchanged numbers with a promise to do it again.

Back in his room, Aaron took a long shower. It had been a good start to his starting over. He had revved his engines and jumped off the line just as the light turned green. Maybe he was onto something. Maybe a fresh start was exactly what he needed. It was only running away if you looked backwards. Lying in bed after his shower, Aaron decided that he was going to look at what was before him instead of what was lurking in the past.

He fell asleep with the TV on and a smile on his lips.

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Chapter 3

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The weekend was less a blur and more a blank screen. Flying from Minnesota left Aaron feeling more than tired. He felt like he was both hungover after downing one too many ale's watching the Vikings lose another playoff game and heavily sedated following a root canal. The time difference was brutal and after playing tennis with Harry his body was just as tired. For most of the weekend, Aaron slept.

He awoke Monday morning with less than an hour to get to the beach. He and Jennifer had talked the night before, setting up plans for an interview in person at the shoreline. "I'll have to see you swim," she had said, which was as obvious as it was reasonable.