Page 3 of The Long Way Home


  ****

  Doug Small sat alone opposite the glass viewing window of the infant nursery. It was 12.45 in the morning. He was the last of the expectant fathers that had spent the evening pacing the floors of the maternity ward. All evening he had spent congratulating other men on becoming fathers, looking at their newborn sons and daughters and smoking their cigars they passed around. By 11pm he had smoked a quiet cigar outside the doorway of the hospital wing with the only other man left.

  “Don’t worry mate, I’m sure your missus will have a beautiful baby boy or girl to show you any minute now,” he had said before leaving Doug to return to the waiting area alone. That was nearly two hours ago. Now Doug sat alone listening to the clock on the wall tick slowly by and lamely holding a small box of Henri Winterman’s cigars.

  “Mr Small?” A voice broke the silence causing him to get to his feet immediately as a midwife approached him. “Your wife has had a beautiful baby boy.”

  “It’s a boy!” He turned and shouted to the empty chairs. She gently grabbed his arm and led him over towards the viewing window, motioning to the nurse inside before leaving him alone to view the baby.

  Inside the nursery, a younger nurse with blonde hair tied up in a bun wheeled a small baby crib up to the window, reached in and picked up baby Simon for Doug to see better. It was everything Doug could have hoped for. He stood in awe at the sight of his son, soaking in the quiet ambience of the now deserted viewing area until finally the young nurse tired of this and placing Simon back in the crib wheeled him over beside the other babies, dimming the lights behind her as she left. Even then, Doug still stood silently watching his newborn son sleeping.

  “Congratulations.”

  “Crikey!” Doug jumped clean out of his skin, turning to see a man in a cream corduroy jacket suddenly standing right beside him.

  “Sorry if I startled you,” he replied with a soft chuckle.

  “Startled me? You scared the hell out of me!” Where he had come from Doug had no idea, it was as though he had suddenly appeared out of thin air.

  “Well that can also be a good thing. I didn’t intend to, just thought I’d say congratulations.” His voice was smooth and washed easily over the grating silence of the hospital ward. He stood to the side of Doug, staring serenely through the viewing window and keeping his hands in his pockets the whole time. “That’s your son over there on left isn’t it?”

  “That’s right, how’d you guess?” Doug asked, colour now returning to his face.

  “Looks just like his father if you ask me.”

  “Thanks mate,” Doug accepted his compliment, although he still had no idea who this guy was. “I thought I was going to be the only one up late enough to see my son on the night he’s born.”

  “No, far from it. No one is ever born into the world alone. Why, all of heaven is smiling down upon him as we speak. It’s the miracle of new life, reason enough for the Angels to be singing praises until the sun comes up.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Doug pondered his strange comment for a moment. “I never thought of it like that before. I suppose his guardian Angel is probably looking down over him already.”

  “Actually, they normally stop by and see how things are doing for themselves.” He said as he gave a childish wave through the viewing window, strumming his fingertips in the direction of Simon. “You know Doug, you’re going to end up being a good father. Make sure you always remember that.”

  “Thanks mate.” Doug offered a bewildered reply. The stranger obviously knew his name while Doug felt only embarrassment for still not having the foggiest idea who he was. There was something unusual about the whole conversation that he couldn’t put his finger on. The whole time they spoke he never once looked in Doug’s direction, choosing instead to keep his eyes trained firmly on his son. “I don’t by chance know you from somewhere do I?”

  “No, I was just passing through.” The stranger replied. “But that’s not to say we won’t bump into each other again somewhere down the track either. Life’s funny like that, it branches off in so many directions that we’re all bound to cross paths again somewhere in the future.”

  “Who knows?” Doug thought for a moment before looking down at the box of Henri Winterman’s he was holding in his hands. “Say, I don’t think I caught your name, but since we’re just standing here do you want to share a cigar with me?”

  When he looked up again there was no sign of the guy anywhere. In the short moment he had taken to glance down at the box of cigars, the man had simply vanished into thin air. Doug looked quickly to the left and the right of him. In both directions the hallway trailed away into emptiness. The hospital appeared deserted and left Doug wondering if perhaps he had imagined the whole conversation.

 
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