Draft 1 27.2.17

Draft 2 28.2.17

“Want to walk into Surfers for a paper?” asked James

“OK, I need ciggies as well,” replied Anne

It was a hot, humid Gold Coast summer day. The walk to the supermarket took ten minutes, and it was lovely and cool in the building.

“Do you want a coffee before we go home?” James pointedly asked Anne.

Taking her cue from his tone of voice, and from the light weight of her purse, Anne replied, “No, let’s have a coffee at home, yours are better anyway, and we can be cooler sitting beside the fan.”

There was a breeze behind them, off the ocean, as they reached the park on the river which provided an attractive, alternate route home.

Why don’t we have a quick smoke, let’s sit here by the river and enjoy the view, in the shade,” James suggested.

As they sat in the shade, the two men they had seen just before, wandered up. The younger one went to a further seat, sucking on a can of beer, quietly sitting looking at them and the river. The older man came and sat next to James. Anne felt a certain unease.

The older man, already mildly drunk at 11 in the morning offered James a spirit mixer, moisture beaded/beading on the sides of the can. James accepted graciously, and put the unopened can quietly on the seat between himself and the older man.

Anne sat silently on the other side of James, out of the conversation.

“Got any eckies?” the older man said in a hoarse whisper, meant to be discrete.

“No, I wouldn’t know how to get any,” James replied.

“Not to worry, it’s me fucking mate wants some. His girlfriend wrapped herself around a fucking tree coupla weeks ago, he needs somethin’ more than a fucking beer.” The older man explained.

“Where ya from?” continued the older man, and without pause said, “I come from fucking Redcliff this mornin’, come by Uber, cost 200 fucking bucks, no worries, me mate wants an eckie, he’s got $1000, but the stupid fucking bastard wasted most of it, but he can pay.”

James repeated that he didn’t have any, didn’t use them and didn’t know where to get them.

Anne sat silently on the other side of James, listening to the conversation.

James refused the cigarette offered to him by the older man, making conversation in passing about the high price of ciggies, alcohol and life in general, and commiserating with the older man about how little money each of them had.

Quietly, whilst James was staring at the river as he was talking, the older man took out his wallet, shook out all the money he had, about $2.80 in change, and handed it to James, pressed it into James’ hand.

Anne, sitting silently next to James felt tears prickle her eyes behind her sunglasses, and trickle down her cheek.

The older man, dressed neatly and cleanly, but in clothes that had seen better days, shared with another person all that he had, a can of spirit mixer and his money, based on nothing more that a passing comment about the difficulties of getting by.

James quietly put the money at the back of the seat next to the unopened can, and rose to say goodbye, and safe journey.

The older man stood, gave him a manly shoulder hug, and Anne turned to this older man, and said “You are a real gentleman, a real gentleman.”, and gave him a hug.

The younger man was white, thin, clean but sad. The older man was fit, happy, and a Muri, who brought kindness and generosity to a stranger. What a gentleman!