****
There was no time to bother locking the doors behind him when Doug swung into the car park of Murwillumbah station. Despite making the trip from the border to the northern New South Wales town in a little over 20 minutes, the train was already there. Judging by the sight of passengers swarming off the train and onto the platform, the train must have been running late. It looked as though it had only just arrived. He checked his watch as he hurried across the bitumen car park in front of the station, still clutching Sally’s hand as she struggled to keep pace with him. It was 8.58pm.
In front of the station was an impressive lineup of buses, waiting to take the scores of passengers that were disembarking the train over the border to the Gold Coast. Threading their way through the crowd of people and suitcases that cluttered the front of the station, they finally reached the base of the stairs that led up to the platform. Doug held Sally’s arm to help her keep balance, and she carefully scaled the small flight of concrete stairs on the tips of her high heeled shoes against the flow of people hurrying towards them.
The platform itself was even busier as a seemingly endless parade of people trudged along the narrow three metre wide concrete strip towards the exit. To the left and right of them the platform curved away in both directions making it impossible to see either end of the train. In the confusion that had followed the message Peter had left on the answering machine, Doug hadn’t had the time to think of a plan other than getting to the station as fast as he could. He’d been lucky not to have passed any police cars along the way, getting a speeding fine on his first night of being a Christian would have been hard to live down.
“It’s impossible to see him Doug.” Sally moved him to the side of the exit, out of the way from the crowd that was trying to step around him.
Doug looked frantically from the left to the right of the platform, attracting a few puzzled looks from weary travelers. There was no sign of Simon anywhere.
“He has to be here.” Doug said defiantly. “Everything that has happened over the last few weeks has led me to this moment, I’m sure of it.”
“Do you think we could have passed him already on the way in?” Sally asked. “Should we look out the front of the station in case he’s there? He might not even be expecting to find us here waiting.”
“Good idea.” Doug said as he grabbed Sally’s hand and led her back down the small flight of stairs.
The crowd of passengers had now swelled in size while waiting to board the connecting road coaches. They both scanned the crowd, looking for anyone that resembled the height of a young teenage boy amid the crowd of passengers squeezed into the small concourse of the station. With so many people moving about it was impossible to spot anyone fitting Simon’s description, and they simply didn’t stand still for long enough.
“It’s no use.” Doug admitted after only a few seconds of searching. “We were better off on the platform Sally, if he is looking for us then that is going to be the first place he tries.”
Doug led Sally slowly back up the concrete stairs. The crowded platform had almost cleared as the last few passengers made their way off the train. They reached the platform and stood underneath the large black and white sign that read ‘way out’.
“Dad!” A young boy’s shout echoed the full length of the platform.
Doug spun around to be met by the sight of Simon as he stepped out from one of the railway carriages only a short distance away. There was no mistaking his son, dressed in a pair of black tracksuit pants and the same Manly Sea Eagles jersey he had remembered him wearing all the time before he and Sally had moved away.
“Simon!” Doug cried in delight as he ran towards his son with open arms.
Simon was already on the platform, running as fast as he could toward his father. Everything had turned out exactly as Peter had described. Only there was no way he could have explained the feeling that was waiting for him the second he saw his Dad and Sally. The emotion hit him as he closed in on his Dad. Tears were already streaming down his cheeks before finally he fell into his father’s arms. The two embraced on bended knees, paused between the end of one journey and the beginning of another. To entertain Angels is divine, to live and love, now that is something else.
Epilogue
September 1990
Simon paddled over the last wave as it slowly rolled toward shore, listening as it broke behind him. His surfboard had easily handled the one metre swell that had rounded the rocky point all afternoon before breaking along the shoreline. Over the past six months he had gradually come to master the skill of getting to his feet and dropping down the face of the wave on the old, patched up surfboard his father had bought him for his fourteenth birthday. While most beachgoers had shied away from the cool of the ocean during the winter months, Simon had taken the opportunity to learn to surf on the relatively uncrowded southern Gold Coast beaches. Slowly, as the winter chill had faded into a string of warm spring days, he found himself feeling confident enough to paddle out into the lineup of locals who frequented Snapper Rocks to surf the clean point breaks.
He sat up on his board, feet dangling in the cool water beneath him while the warm September sun lapped against his face. He looked over his shoulder as a set of waves began to form, slowly rising higher as they rolled towards him. There were only six or so other locals around him, all eyeing the same set of waves. Realising that he was in the best spot out of all of them, Simon dropped his chest down onto his board and paddled like mad as the wave began to pick him up. He got to his feet and began to drop sharply down the face, looking to the left over his shoulder as another surfer pulled back hard on his board, leaving Simon to take the wave for himself.
Simon reached the bottom and leant hard into the wave, carving a huge spray of water in his wake as he turned back up the face and prepared to whack the lip of the wave. It was a beautiful move, but sadly mistimed he realised as he felt the bottom of the wave suck out from under him as it broke, dumping him in its wake.
Coughing and spluttering, Simon pulled himself back onto his board and managed to paddle back out to the relative calm behind the whitewater before the next wave had time to break.
“Hey!” One of the other young surfers shouted at him as he rejoined the lineup waiting for the next set to roll in. “Next time you drop in on my wave, at least make sure you catch it instead of wasting it on a wipeout.”
“Sorry,” Simon replied above the laughter of the kid’s friends. “I thought I had it, I was just a bit off.”
Off to the left of the group a large set of waves rolled in, surprising everyone. They all turned in time to watch an older surfer, possibly in his thirties or forties, tuck into a tube ride with the wave funneling behind him as it broke. They all managed to paddle clear of the approaching wave as it passed by, still watching as the man launched into a massive aerial snap, appearing upside down to the group who now sat on their boards behind the wave. They watched in awe as he landed the difficult move before dropping off the rear of the wave and paddling in their direction.
“Hey, having some problems are we?” The stranger said as he joined the group and sat up on his board.
“Who me?” Simon asked in disbelief as the eyes of the others now turned to stare at him.
“Of course I meant you.” He replied in a friendly manner. “I couldn’t help notice you are taking too long to turn when you’re at the bottom of the wave. It could be that you’re taking off too late, but I think it might have more to do with your board not being the right shape.”
“I know it’s only an old one.” Simon replied embarrassed. “My Dad said if I learnt on this one first, then he’d trade it in on a better one for me this Christmas.”
“He sounds like a fair Dad.” The stranger replied. “But here, try my board and see if it makes a difference.”
Simon was stunned as the stranger slid off his board and undid his leg rope before passing the board to him. Undoing his own leg rope, he swapped with the man and slid
up onto what looked like a brand new surfboard. It was white with an awesome design sprayed across the tip, a sleek, curved, triple finned surfboard almost two feet longer than his.
Leaving the stranger to sit on his own single fin, dinged-up, squatty board with its array of fibreglass patches, Simon turned and paddled for a wave that slowly rose from behind the group. The rest of the group sat in silence and watched as he dropped out of sight before launching back up the face of the wave and grabbing the board by its side while performing a huge rail slide that showered the sky in a spray of white foam. Still on his feet and surprising even himself, Simon raced back down the wave a second time before turning and launching himself at the lip of the wave one more time. This time he pulled off the same move he had seen the stranger perform only moments earlier, getting massive air before landing smoothly and letting himself drop off the back of the wave to the amazement of both him and the group of locals who sat watching in stunned silence.
“See, that was much better.” The stranger smiled as Simon paddled back over towards him. “I’d say it wasn’t you after all. You just needed the right board.”
“Yeah thanks, that was the most awesome wave I’ve ever caught.” Simon thanked him. “Here, I’ll let you have your board back.”
“Say, I’ve got to get going anyhow. Why don’t you keep it and see where it takes you in life?” He refused when Simon began to take the leg rope off.
“Are you nuts?” One of the other young surfers in the group asked in disbelief. “You’re going to swap that awesome board for his beat-up old one?”
“Sure, why not?” He smiled as he reached forward and patted Simon on the shoulder. “After all, it’s not the board but rather what he will do with it in life that is most important.”
“What do you mean? What do you want me to do?” Simon asked, still dumbfounded by his generous offer.
“Use it to live life massively Simon.” Was all he said.
Simon stared carefully at him. His wet, short black hair clung to his forehead, above a pair of thick, heavy eyebrows. Beads of water dripped from the dark, unshaven stubble of his face. The man smiled one last time at him before turning towards the shore, the brilliant sunshine reflecting off his perfectly tanned, olive skin.
A soft voice filled Simon’s head, recalling the words a friend had spoken to him not that long ago. ‘Over time we’ll meet again in life, but most likely you won’t realise until afterwards. An Angel only reveals themselves when God requires us to intervene on his behalf.’
From his vantage point where he now sat bobbing up and down in the ocean, Simon realised he had been here a long time ago. At a time when his friends and family had kept a bedside vigil, praying that he would come out of the coma, he had stood on the rocks to his left looking down on the beach below. His vision was now fully revealed to him. His family and friends who had stood on the beach calling to him during the dream were all those who he had helped find God’s eternal salvation. The crowd beyond them was the thousands of others still needing God’s grace, and he was going to find a way to reach them all.
The group watched silently as the man paddled into a patch of afternoon sunlight that was dancing on the surface of the ocean and a small wave caught up to him. He stood to his feet and they watched as he rode towards the shoreline, directly into the path of the sun’s glare until their eyes couldn’t stand to look anymore in that direction. When they looked again he was gone, there was no sign of him anywhere.
THE END
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