My first official day on Kildare Island was absolutely nothing to be excited about - well, at least not at first. I found myself wandering through the neighbourhood on the edge of which 'my' house stood. I passed several tired-looking civilians who barely glanced my way - understandable, and a few well-dressed teens holding beer cans skulking on the edge of the establishment. They gave me the equivalent of death glares as I passed. I eyed them in my peripheral vision, wondering what I had done to peeve them off. Was walking such a crime in North Carolina? I quickly skirted a group of young men trying to heave a large tree trunk off a pathway. I turned a corner and stopped dead, my eyes widening. In front of me lay a beautiful, perfect, white beach. Smooth sand stretched away for what seemed like miles, and waves glinted in the sunlight as they lapped the shimmering sand like tendrils of pure light touching off a glowing plain of wonder. I gawked, unable to believe my eyes. It was incredible. The view from the airplane could in no way compare to seeing it up close. I took a hesitant step forward, half expecting the whole thing to evaporate if I got too close. My eyes positively drank in the whole scene.
Suddenly, a silhouette broke the sleek shiny perfection that was the sea. I could only stare as a young guy emerged from the sea, his light brown hair wild and soaking wet. His drenched shorts and t-shirt matched his dark complexion, and he wore a scruffy bandanna tied around his neck. He tucked a surfboard under his arm and turned, his eyes widening when they settled on me. He blinked.
"Oh. Hi." I glanced at him and then down at the sand, feeling my face flush.
"Hi." The awkward pause that followed made me wish I could disappear into the ground. Finally, I looked up to see the guy eyeing me, his eyes alight with curiosity. My heart sank as I realised exactly what he was going to say next.
"Never seen you around here before." I winced.
"Yeah, I… I'm only here since yesterday." He studied me, intrigue clear in his expression as he nodded.
"You touron? How long you staying?"
"Not really sure. Forever?" He leaned forward, my statement catching his interest.
"You mean…"
"Yeah. I'm living here." To my surprise, the guy smiled.
"Lucky you." I raised my eyebrows.
"Lucky?" He shrugged.
"Don't you think so?"
"I don't think island life's for me, to be honest." His smile only widened.
"Outer Banks life's for everyone." I felt taken aback. Why was this guy being so friendly? Everyone else around me seemed to wish I had never come into existence. I gave him a hesitant grin. The guy tossed his surfboard aside and moved towards me.
"So, have you seen much of the island yet?" I shook my head.
"Haven't had a chance to go site-seeing." He paused a metre or two in front of me, and spread his arms out wide.
"Lemme show you round." I stared at him, my overwhelming curiosity about this place quelled by a jolt of uncertainty. But then the feeling was overtaken by happiness, and it took all of the self-control I had in me to stop a huge grin breaking across my face. Because somehow, despite how unlikely it sounded, I sensed I had just made a friend. Well, maybe that was too strong a word. I had made an acquaintance.
The guy was about to step passed me, when he turned again.
"By the way, I didn't catch your name." I gave him my best Instagram model smile.
"Karlie." He shared my grin.
"I'm John B."
A breeze of a day quickly turned into a whirlwind that was so unexpected I was almost blown clean off my feet. And it started with John B leading me through one of the best tours I'd ever been on… which actually isn't saying much, considering I'd never actually been on a tour. Oh well.
We re-entered the huge neighbourhood I had just left.
"This is The Cut, also known as the best and most fun part of the island. There's a load of good restaurants and hangout spots around here. Do you live near here?" I appreciated the detail he was already diving into; he didn't just walk through silently and point to stuff as if I didn't know what a house looked like, and the information he gave was genuinely helpful. I caught John B staring at me expectantly and snapped out of my revelry.
"Oh, um, yeah. It's pretty cool." He gave me a mischievous grin.
"You have no idea." We continued passed several small houses with boarded up windows, and I tried my best to reel in my spinning thoughts as we approached a spray-painted road sign. My eyebrows raised slightly, and John B noticed my eyes linger on the sign. He paused his tangent on fishing and gave me a knowing smile that told me that sign was more than just two words. Much more. I squinted at the lettering.
"Pogue zone?" I questioned slowly. He nodded vigorously.
"You bet." His next words implied he was ready for the confusion that was probably clear on my face. "Pogues are the… sort of working class citizens of OBX." This surprisingly didn't make the words any more comprehensible to me.
"Why have a specific word for that?" In answer, John B stopped walking. I faltered beside him, and then my eyes landed on the bridge at our feet. I followed it across to another island I had not seen before, and my eyes widened.
"Yep. That's Figure 8." I gazed in awe and envy at the row upon row of gleaming modern-looking mansions, each house separated by what seemed like miles of open space.
"That's… wow. Those people are rich."
"Call them the Kooks." I nodded, my attention still on the sprawling acres of land only separated from us by the few feet of wooden bridge, though in truth, the gap between our world and theirs was a hurdle that was almost impossible to jump.
My wonder was shattered when five smartly-clad teens stepped into view and then walked directly parallel to me and John B. At first they didn't seem to notice us, but then one of them glanced our way, and his expression immediately soured, like he had just spotted two rotten tomatoes rather than people.
"Clear off, Pogues!" I felt a frown of my own fall over my face, but John B just waved casually at the group.
"Relax, we're on our side of the island."
"And you'd better stay there," a girl called out, before all five of them melted back into their surroundings like they had never been there. I turned slightly and stared at John B. He didn't seem perturbed by the obvious hostility and the threatening undertone projected by the teens' words, he just brushed his damp hair off of his forehead and passed his eyes over the bridge.
"What did you do to them?" I asked wryly. He shrugged.
"Trust me, that's a mutual thing. You'll get used to it." This answer did not satisfy my burning curiosity. These guys had to have some history to hold that much loathing towards each other. What had he called them? Kooks? I glanced back across the bridge at the huge houses I'd have to sell three times as much stuff as I owned to buy, and my eyes slowly fell to the water stretching under the bridge.