Edwin

by Jellie N Wyckelsma
(First prize winner in our 2011 Short SHORT story competition)

Edwin spotted them the moment he stepped off the train; the last couple left standing on the deserted platform. He immediately recognised the tall, slightly stooped figure of his father, his mother standing close by his side, a little plumper than he remembered. They weren’t looking in his direction. He watched how his mother took his father’s hand as they slowly began to make their way back to the exit. Even if he had stepped onto the platform earlier, the first passenger to rush off this train, would they have recognised him? He had lost a lot of weight and had grown a bushy beard.

Twenty-five years had passed. He had been so excited, clutching his first passport, his air ticket and boarding-pass to Bangkok when his parents had farewelled him at Melbourne International Airport, an adventurous twenty-one year old who needed a break from his studies, wanted to experience Asia. Didn’t everyone?

‘Listen, Son, enjoy yourself, but take care. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!’ were the last words of advice his father had given him and these words had repeated themselves a million times as he had spent twenty hours of each day in solitary confinement during the last twenty-five years in that Asian hellhole. Life he was given! Life!

‘Come on, try this one, it’s great.’

Well, the party might have been great too. He didn’t really remember much of it at all. Even waking up in a cell in a police station he barely recalled, but the trial was a nightmare that seemed to go on for days and days and then into twenty five years. His lawyer had spoken broken English and hopefully had tried his hardest. Perhaps if the family back home had paid more the sentence might have been reduced after the appeal. The Australian government hadn’t come to the party either. Nobody had believed that he wasn’t a drugs dealer. Yes, he had taken some drug at that party but the drugs that were found in his backpack were not his at all. Someone had planted them. Oh, sure! Pull the other leg, Mate!

Nobody had greeted him at Tullamarine. The Air-porter bus had taken him to Southern Cross station and from there he had boarded the train for Lilydale. He had stayed on the train until all passengers had disembarked; just him left on the empty train. Silence, like in that cell. Was this real? Was he a free man? Yes, he remembered. Finally someone had admitted that the drugs were planted. No apology from anyone. The next day only a free taxi-ride to the Australian Embassy. At the debriefing and counselling sessions at the Embassy he had been warned that there would be times that he would lose touch with reality. The impact of the trauma was far from over.

For a few seconds he watched his parents walking away. Then a tsunami of sound burst out of his chest and caught up with them.

‘MUM!!! DAD!!!’



ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I was born in The Netherlands on the 25th of November 1935. I matriculated and finished the Librarian’s course before migrating to Australia in 1958, where six months after my arrival I began working in libraries – special, public and after a teacher training course at Hawthorn Teacher’s College (Victoria) in school libraries.

I am married with two children, three grandchildren and one great-grandchild.

I consider myself a “hobby” writer. I am also co-founder of the Bass Coast Writers Inc., a writers’ support group which has been successfully operating in Inverloch, South Gippsland, Victoria, since 2003.

I am co-author of two volumes of poetry: She’s Apples and She ate a Bowl of Poetry. In August this year I self-published my first novel Crossing the Bridge at San Remo ; based on my migrant experiences.

However I do find to write a short, short story a real challenge. Like in a poem every word counts. A few words set the scene; no padding, no waffling.

I chose the drug theme as I am concerned about the demons of drugs young people face. To use or not to use, the ultimate question.

Recalling Maurice Chevalier’s song: I’m glad I’m not young anymore, I must admit: Me too!