Crumbs

They both looked over to the ring of trees guarding the path where it fell away towards the beach below. A gull scooted out of the shadows, it’s head twitching side to side as it scurried and stopped and eyed the food. Andy took out a short-bread and broke it into pieces, tossing them towards the trees. The gull watched them drop in amongst the grass, clucking in anticipation and then squawking in disgust as tiny sparrows flitted out to grab the crumbs and raced away back into the branches. The gull stalked about with his wings half raised in protest and the men laughed at the bravado of the tiny birds.

“You had a daughter”, Andy said after a time, “she was still in Melbourne. I think you were about to go back and visit for the first time.”

“I did. And I did. Soon after we met I visited and it was hard. But not impossible, and I kept visiting. She lives back here now, not too far away.”

“That’s great”, Andy said. It was wearing at you back then. I could see it. If you don’t mind me saying.”

“Don’t mind at all. If you don’t mind me saying, I think you look a bit like that yourself, now. Things were a bit up in the air last time I think, you were working things out with your little girl.”

“I thought I was”, Andy said, looking away to the glimpse of sea through the trees. I guess I just didn’t do things right, as you have.”

“I think you’ve probably done a lot of things right. I don’t know how you guys do that work you do”, the man said. “Maybe that’s what this breather is about, it’s just time you did things right in other ways, for yourself first.”

They sat for a while and the cicadas seemed to sense the silence and their drone rose and wavered and rose again. The still heat lay across them and the clouds peeked over the canopy of the trees, dark colours playing at their edges.

“I think it’s about time I set out”, the man said quietly.

“You don’t fancy one last wave, you’re welcome to come back down with me?”

“No. Thanks. This place is about having it for ourselves. Seems a crazy thing to say when we’ve been sitting here together for an hour. But I got what I needed down there, some peace and a few mussels. Now you need to get some waves.”

They stood up and hobbled about a little, old knees taking time to work properly after all that sitting. Seed pods stuck about the man’s cords and he brushed them off and picked up his bag. They shook hands and he looked up into Andy’s face, his eyes piercing and still.

“I reckon you’ve fixed a lot of things, terrible things, for other people”, the man said. “You can fix whatever it is you need to now.”

“Thanks. I feel like you’ve given me a lot more than just time.”

“I haven’t given you anything. And you don’t need anything. Not now. My name is Wayne, by the way.”

The man moved away and slowly climbed the stairs of the stile until he reached the top rail and looked out to the sea over the top of the trees.

“Say hi to your daughter for me, when you see her”, Andy called.

The man threw his head back and beamed down at Andy, the sun poured in and filled his face, his eyes huge and depthless, full of his smile. “I will, I will, and one day I’ll get to say hi to yours too, I know it.”

He looked out to the sea once more.

“They want to listen. In the end they’ll hear you, and answer, if you’re honest. Don’t ever be scared of their anger. Until that’s gone, they’re still there.”

The men looked at each other for a long time, the wind worrying at the long grass beneath the stile so that the seed heads brushed the timbers back and forth in a rattlesnake hum.

The man stepped down over the stile and looked back to him, running his hands through the grass, clumping it together in his broad hands. “Just make sure you take care of yourself first.”

He smiled beneath his hat, his eyes lost in the shadow of the broad brim once more and set out. When he reached the point where the path disappeared in the shadows of the languid bush he slowed and half turned one last time, raising an arm, and in a moment was swallowed by the darkness of the path.

At the top of the steep track down to the bay Andy stood and watched the spot where the man had disappeared. The darkness seemed to throb as the call of the cicadas rose again and filled the space. He had a vague feeling that if joggers were to come through the gap and pound down towards him, and if he was to ask after the man they would look at him wonderingly, shaking their heads.