The Simple Gift (6 page)

Old Bill

I guess I shouldn't be surprised

by anything anymore.

The kid must be fifteen,

or sixteen at the most,

and here he is,

living at the Bendarat Hilton

with a bag of clothes

and some smokes

to give away

to a bum like me.

And when he gave me

those smokes

I almost cried,

a kid like that

with nothing

giving stuff away.

But I took them

and I sat in my carriage

smoking

and trying to place

the past five years

and my memory

flickered and grew dim

like the cigarette

and I stopped remembering

because I knew

that I'd end up

thinking of my darling Jessie

and I knew I'd never stop

thinking of Jessie.

And the cigarette

tasted foul

and I flicked

the butt out the window.

It died on the tracks

quickly

in the cold night air

of a bum's

stumbling memory.

Caitlin visiting

I finish work every night at ten.

Dad always waits up for me.

But tonight I tell Dad

I'm going to Petra's to study

and I make Petra promise

to sit by the phone

should my parents ring

and if they ring

she's to tell them

I'm in the bathroom

and I'll call back.

Then she's to ring me

on my mobile and I'll

ring them and no-one

will know where I am.

Sometimes being rich

and having a dad who

spoils you and buys you

completely stupid

expensive crap like

a gold watch

and a mobile phone

has its advantages.

After work

I change into jeans and

a heavy wool jumper

and my long overcoat

and into my schoolbag

I place two apple pies

and I ask the manager

for two cups of coffee,

to go.

My dad always said

that you should take

something, a gift,

when you go visiting.

Billy's cave

I'm well-mannered.

I knocked on the door

of Carriage 1864 and waited.

I knocked again.

Then I heard his voice

behind me.

I almost dropped the coffee

and he apologised for scaring me.

He took the coffee

and we went inside.

There were two long leather seats

facing each other.

On one he'd stacked books

and clothes and bits and pieces

of things he'd found,

like old bottles and a tin drum.

On the other lay his sleeping bag

and his rucksack as a pillow.

It was clean and warm.

He showed me the broom

and the kerosene heater

he'd found.

It was like a little cave,

a warm, safe little cave

for children to hide in

when

they're scared or lonely

and need somewhere safe

to go.

Billy's cave.

Picnic

I heard the knock and jumped.

Cops? Railway Security?

I crawled out the back window,

dropped quietly onto the track

and skirted along the carriage.

Then I realised cops or security

wouldn't knock!

They'd come barging in

looking for a fight.

So I came in from behind

and saw who it was.

I swallowed hard,

now I was nervous.

I said hello

and she jumped.

Great start, I thought.

I invited her into my carriage,

and watched her as she

saw how I lived.

She's cool.

She didn't sneer or

look uncomfortable.

She sat on the seat

and put her feet up

as though she belonged.

I sat opposite

and we drank coffee,

ate apple pie,

and felt like two kids

on a picnic.

Looking

I told Caitlin

about leaving home,

the champagne,

and Ernie,

and my days spent

in the library reading books

and researching the meaning of names

like Caitlin,

and Luckett,

which is Scottish in origin.

I found an ancestor

who was a Duke –

from royalty to unemployment

in a few generations.

Something to be proud of.

I was nervous

but I kept talking.

She listened

and smiled

and her eyes

never strayed from me,

but the more she looked at me

the more relaxed I became

and I looked back

and I saw past

the shiny watch

and the clean hair

and the beautiful woollen overcoat.

I saw Caitlin,

and I liked what I saw.

Happen

I told Petra

about Billy and my visit.

I told her about his cave

and his library days

and how he read more

and knew more

than anybody I'd met

and as I talked

the thought came,

‘What now?'

And Petra read my mind.

‘What now?' she said.

I looked at her,

at the school

with its stone tower

and huge clock

and teachers dressed in suits

and the Indoor Sports Centre

with its heated pool,

and the rose garden

skirting the circular driveway.

The lunch bell sounded.

Petra and I stood

and I said,

‘I'll visit him again,

and again,

until something happens'.

And all next period

I thought of what could happen

and what

I could want to happen.

Going nowhere

I sleep well in my cave,

warm in the railway dark,

the mail train whistle

and the town hall clock

sounding the hours.

This morning I woke

and I knew where I was going

for the next few months –

to the library

to McDonald's

to the river

and home here to the Hilton –

a circuit of plans

with Caitlin at the centre,

and me

a badly dressed satellite

spinning crazily in her orbit.