Category: Before the Rain

Romance binds irreversibly to certain transports
some for name -The Trans-Siberian
some luxury – The Orient Express
others for adventure
or redefinition
changing understanding of unsafe, or squalid –
And some just are.

It was known as the night ferry,
the only one of seven per day with a name –
maritime shuttles linking the Islands of a lanky country.
Docking at 2 a.m.
passengers permitted to remain onboard until 5:30am –
other sailings had to disembark immediately.
Anecdote said much happened on the night ferry,
that there was a nautical equivalent of the mile high club,
hopeful ears heard getting laid was easy.
I didn’t.
No big deal. I’m in the South now.

Rural compression :
people didn’t get married or fall in love
–  “they got together.”
Couples never separated, divorced or were estranged
–  “his Missus shot through.”
Incomes didn’t quadruple with a bonanza season
–  “payout wasn’t bad this year.”
And when the mortgage maze had no apparent exit
and
the rifle became the final solution
–  “things got on top of him.”

“This Friday is it? Hope I find someone like ya,”
my severance and valedictory.
On the last day he was distant – distracted
at 3 p.m. he said that was it for the day,
said he had to get moving –
“so you might as well bugger off too.”

Two hands emerge from the pickup window
one offering a handshake
the other an envelope. And then he was gone.

Envelope contents

1. Final fortnight’s wages
2. Holiday pay
3. Tax certificate
4. And.

A smaller envelope: ‘ for good work  ’
– inside $50.
I never saw him again.

Part II
It wasn’t the most satisfying job I ever had,
or the highest paying,
or the one where time went the fastest,
or where I learned the most about myself,
or when I was proudest.
But, it was the best. So long Bill.

Mum saw it
she and Dad were keen – very keen.
My dissertation supervisor said it was a great opportunity,
thought I had a good chance.
I asked Bill
he performed that phantom movement – hand to mouth,
his thinking pose he called it –
had quit 10 years ago,
“but not a day goes by I don’t want one.”

And then he spoke.
He told me he’d been married at 21.
Two children by 28,
a third at 30.
Said he was 42 now –
I might think that old … “but it wasn’t – just wait ”
and life was good.
BUT
for 20 years he share milked,
working 6 days a week,
“14 hours a day … making other bastards rich. ”
And then an obituary –
without rancour or regret
“I’m not old – but I never had a youth.”

At that moment
with his granite physique and beard
he seemed like Moses : a second thoughts Moses,
one who knew sin essential to redemption
–    “go down south son …. fuck anything that moves.”
I took his advice,
it changed my life.