The Long Way Home by Phillip Overton
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The trip to Newcastle took almost two hours. There were stops along the way at Wyong and Broadmeadows before the train followed the branch line to the terminus in the heart of Newcastle. After catching his breath, William had settled back in his seat and enjoyed the trip north. For him it was a trip back in time to the days when he was young and travel out of the city was always in brown, wooden carriages such as these pulled slowly behind an ageing black steam train. That was unless you were lucky enough to catch one of the expresses, like the Newcastle Flyer.
As the two exited Newcastle station, there was time to pause beside the locomotive. The sleek, green lines of the engine begged to be noticed, even by a younger generation that had not grown up surrounded by the sights and smells of steam. There was a chance for Simon to climb up on the footplate inside the cabin and see the glow of the firebox, feeling its heat warm the cheeks on his face. He watched as the fireman demonstrated how he shoveled coal from the dirty, black coal pile of the locomotive tender, hearing the roar of the furnace each time the firebox door opened. Finally the two watched as the locomotive uncoupled and ran around the length of the train as it prepared to work the second leg of its tour to Maitland and back. For Simon, Poppy and half of the other passengers, that meant a little over three and a half hours of free time to explore Newcastle before the return journey home.
With no need to rush, Simon slowly followed his Grandfather as they wandered to a nearby take away food shop and ordered some fish and chips for lunch. They then walked a short distance to a park and found a bench along the river to sit and eat while watching a large cargo ship leave port and sail out through the heads.
“You know Simon,” his Poppy talked while they finished lunch. “It won’t be long now until you get to move in with your father. The court case is less than six weeks away, and then your nightmare will be over. Just know that once upon a time your mother and father loved each other very much, that’s how they conceived you, in love. Then, I don’t know, life changed or whatever and something went wrong, your mother became unhappy and angry. Whatever it was that changed her, it never went away, and that’s how she’s been most of your life. The point is Simon, you can’t let that ruin who you are. It’s important to keep your good heart in memory of the mother who brought you into the world, because as long as you keep that alive, you keep the memory alive in her.”
“In the meantime, it’s going to be better for the both of you if you lived with your father. The court will see that too, better for you to grow up a healthy, happy young boy, and better for her to have the time and space she needs to sort herself out.” He paused as he drew his breath, satisfied that Simon was following the conversation. “I’m only saying this to you boy because I won’t be around forever to keep an eye out for you. You’re going to need your father to do that for you from now on. You see, your Poppy has cancer, I haven’t got much time left. Doctors say it was from smoking cigarettes years ago, my lungs and heart are having trouble just keeping me alive. In the near future Simon, I’m going to die.”
“No Poppy, don’t say that.” Simon stopped eating and looked up at his Grandfather. “Can’t they do anything to make you better?”
“No Simon, they can’t.” He paused to comfort him by putting his arm around his shoulder. The boy hugged in tightly, and through the small sniffs he made, William could tell he was crying. “It’s alright to be upset Simon, it’s alright. Don’t let it make you angry though. You see, I was upset when your Nanna passed away, but then I let it get me angry. I got angry with God for taking her away from me, when really it was just time that stole her from me Simon. At the end of the day that’s all we’ve got, time. It’s what we do with it that is really important.”
A distant horn blast sounded from the cargo ship as it reached the open sea and sailed out of view past the lighthouse at the entrance to the port, leaving behind only the smell of salt in the air. Overhead, seagulls squawked noisily in the grey, overcast sky.
“It’s alright Simon.” He continued to hug his Grandson. “Just look at it this way, I’m finally going home to be with your Nanna. And I can’t think of anyone more I’d like to thank for leading me back to God than you. You taught me to believe again and put my trust in God once more. Because of you we even got your Uncle Barry to go to church didn’t we? Even though I might not be around long enough to see my boys finally settle down, at least I’ve had the pleasure of meeting the girls they’ll both marry one day, and that in itself is comfort enough. In the end, the faith of a little boy was stronger than the stubbornness of an old man’s heart.”
The words seemed surreal as though the world had drifted off into a separate state of being, leaving the two to embrace the moment in the solitude of the park bench. Behind them the quiet lull of the city on a Sunday afternoon floated gently overhead. The coal loaders and steel mills that lined the dirty river sat silently, their docks motionless for now. Nearby at the station nothing moved. Only later would the reality of that moment sink in, long after the two had boarded the train for the 3.05pm departure from Newcastle.