The elderly man, well-dressed and with his hand luggage by his side, found a seat in the airport lounge and plonked himself down, seemingly oblivious of the younger man in the seat beside him.
He glanced up at the ‘Arrivals and Departures’ board and felt a small surge of irritation. His aircraft was delayed an hour. His gaze wandered around the lounge. It was half full of people in various poses of boredom: some reading, some on their mobiles, some staring vacantly at the opposite wall. The paperback he pulled from his pocket was a brief distraction. He began to read half-heartedly but soon gave up. He thought of sleep and closed his eyes, but it was useless. Too many things were going on in his mind. Too much had happened. So much lay ahead … He felt eyes watching him and a quick glance revealed the younger man beside him, looking at him sympathetically.
‘You look done in, mate. Are you OK?’ the genuine concern in the voice removed any suggestion that the man was a busybody.
The older man smiled. ‘Yes – thanks – I’m OK. It’s – it’s just that a lot’s been happening in my life of late which I’m having to deal with.’
The young man extended his hand. ‘Stan, from Queensland.’
The older man took it. ‘Jack, from nowhere in particular.’
‘Seems like you’ve been around the traps a bit.’
Jack smiled. It’s true, but I’m hoping the end’s in sight.’
Some desultory conversation followed. Jack learned that his companion was a minister of a country parish, returning home after a church conference.
He felt himself strangely drawn to the younger man. Something about him engendered trust. Their conversation revealed a warmth born of compassion; someone who probably held many secrets entrusted to him. Jack knew he had a need to unload himself – express verbally the events of the past few months; release some of the grief and emotional hurt. He decided to take a chance when an opportunity presented itself.
During a lull in the conversation he suddenly said, ‘Stan – you’re a man of the cloth, as they say. Does that mean I can talk to you and whatever I tell you will stay with you? Can I trust you never to repeat anything I might tell you?’
‘Of course,’ Stan replied, looking surprised; ‘just so long as it’s not illegal.’
To finish this story, you will need to make the modest contribution of $1.99 to help ward off the Granny Dumpers. Just click on the old chap to purchase the PDF.
