A Bullet For God

by Eben Le Roux

  Chapter 4

  It was a day that started out nice and warm, with only a small breeze stirring the air. Later, the weather started to change, new clouds had gathered, and it became darker very quickly. For Pastor Simmons and his team, it would be a twenty-minute drive to the stadium, if traffic would be normal.

  Gerhard Knox, the Pastor’s driver, had looked outside and did not like the darkness in the clouds. He knew there was a storm coming.

  ‘Gentlemen, if we want to be on time, we should leave now. We could still be there before the rain starts,’ Gerhard said while gathering the bags from the floor.

  Pastor Simmons knew Gerhard was right as he got the man into the living room. ‘Did anybody hear the latest from the stadium?’ he asked as he put on his jacket.

  ‘Yes sir. Twenty minutes ago, they said it was full to capacity already. Everything is in place, and they are only waiting for us.’

  The pastor smiled upon hearing this. ‘That sounds good, gentlemen, and if all of you are ready, we can go. We will drive in a convoy, so stay as close together as safety will allow. Gerhard, you know the road. The others will follow us.’

  The pastor started giving last instructions, and five minutes later, the three cars were on the road to the stadium. The mood was happy and Gerhard was doing most of the talking. Even when it started to rain, it did not dampen his mood. He looked at the clouds and knew that a thunderstorm was still to follow. As if in confirmation of his thoughts, a flash of lightning slashed a path across the sky, followed by a loud roar of thunder. Within seconds, the rain started to pour as the storm released its fury. Everybody became nervous and silent in the car.

  ‘It is only a thunderstorm gentleman, this city is known for it. It will all be over in ten minutes, maybe even less.’ Gerhard had noticed their fear and was trying to calm them down while he had the car’s wipers working at full speed.

  ‘Yesterday was the same – a storm for twenty minutes and then nice hot weather that followed. I wish we had this kind of weather back home.’

  ‘Oh no, not for me, rain like this scares me, said a voice coming from the back seat. It came from Nick, the youngest in the crew. They all started laughing, and then suddenly the force of the rain slowed down.’

  ‘That should make you feel better, hey, Nick,’ Gerhard said steering the car to the outside lane as their off-ramp was now only four hundred metres away. He looked in the rear-view mirrors, making sure the other two cars were following his actions.

  ‘Watch out!’ The pastor screamed so loud that it gave everybody in the car a fright.

  Gerhard saw it too late. A plastic drum had come loose on the truck in front of them, bounced once on the road, and came straight at their car. He swerved out of desperation but went into the railing. The tearing of metal brought fear and the car bounced back onto the road. Just as Gerhard thought he had brought it under control, they were hit by another car from behind. This time there was no control over the vehicle any more.

  The stadium was packed to capacity, and fearing overcrowding, the gates had to be closed early. The attendance was so good that even the standing areas on the grass had been taken up. As the sky had cleared long ago, the crowd was becoming restless. People could sense something was wrong, as it had been an hour since the rain had stopped and more than twenty minutes since the event should have started. Peter Johnson also became worried as had made sure that he was there early and took up a seat right in the front. That feeling of hope was still inside him until the crowd’s noises awaken some alarm in him. The band and the choir were trying to make up time and had been singing all along. Although the music was good, people had started discussing the situation silently amongst them, and slowly they became louder. At the far end of the stage, the organisers began to fear that the situation could get out of hand at any time. One of them walked towards the front of the stage and took up place behind a microphone. This brought some calm and although they expected bad news, the announcement still came as a big disappointment to them.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen…your attention please.’ he said looking nervously at the crowd. It took a while before he had enough calm to carry on. ‘There has been an accident . . . we are sorry to announce that Pastor Paul Simmons has been in a car accident and we only received word of it now. Although it happened about an hour ago, we still do not have much information on his condition. Unfortunately, we were told that he would not be able to make it here tonight. It was confirmed that he and some of his crew were taken to hospital by ambulance, and I have no words to tell you how sorry we are . . .’

  His voice trembled as he had already received news that Paul Simmons was in intensive care in a very bad condition.

  ‘All we can tell you right now is, if you should want a refund, please return your tickets to where you bought them from, and your monies would be paid back to you.’

  The crowd stood in silence, stunned and not moving, trying to overcome the impact of what they had just heard. Faces were filled with disappointment and disbelief, some even with anger. As people slowly started to move out at the back of the stadium, for Peter Johnson, the announcement came as the biggest shock ever of his life. He looked around, as a lost child would search for his parents. His body felt drained, and his mind could not accept the situation. When more people started to leave, he knew that his disappointment had become a disaster. He looked back at the man who had broken the news to the crowd in extreme disappointment with his mouth hanging open. Their eyes locked, and the man could read the question in his eyes. Why?

  The man just lifted his shoulder as if to say, I don’t know.

  He could feel his last hope going, and he suddenly had a desire to take over the stage himself. He did not need any encouragement; the fear for going back to the streets was enough to make him hurry onto the stage. In one move, he grabbed a microphone from a stand and, without hesitation, shouted into it.

  ‘This ground is holy. Why are you leaving? Is this what Christ should expect from his people to come here in His name and leaving without even saying one word of praise for Him?’ His voice made them stop. Some looked in surprise at the odd-looking man on the stage, but he did not give them a chance to complete their thoughts as his voice rang out again over the powerful speakers.

  ‘When Jesus was led to a cross to die, a lot of people came to attend that event. Just like you here tonight, they were there for a miracle. They thought they would see how Jesus would outmanoeuvre himself from possible death. When that miracle did not happen, I bet you a lot of them left disappointed. Not disappointed because they saw Him die, but because they did not see Him performing that miracle.’

  From amongst the crowd, a voice shouted out loudly, ‘Look, a mad man!’

  Another voice shouted back in reaction to this, ‘Poor guy. Maybe he also came to be healed.’

  They were quickly silenced when Peter started talking again. ‘Now, let me tell you that not even a miracle would bring Paul Simmons here today. For now, this ground is holy. We came here in Jesus’ name, and I ask you to please go back to your seats and stop a holy hour from being wasted.’

  The crowd was amazed by the words of this man, who clearly looked like a hobo. He looked out of place with a jacket that was half a size too big and trousers that were noticeably bleached by too many hours in the sun. His hair was combed, but anybody could see it was not well kept.

  The stage manager was not happy with what was unfolding in front of him. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, he rushed forward towards Peter. ‘What the hell!’ he shouted in his direction. He knew he had to take the man off the stage and take the microphone away from him.

  From where he was standing, the producer of Live Entertainment TV, who had been watching the hobo very closely, saw what the stage manager was about to do. He grabbed him from behind and, before he could say anything, told him in a somewhat aggressive way, ‘We paid in advance for this live event, and you better be sure every single cent is paid back if you stop that man. I d
on’t care if this fool makes a complete arsehole of himself, as long as I have a show to broadcast, is that clear?’ Not taking his eyes off the now red-faced manager, he continued, ‘So if you have half a million rand, go ahead . . . stop him . . . go.’ He gesticulated towards the hobo.

  The stage manager stood motionless with uncertainty on his face as most of the crowd were already seated. Very few were finding their way to the exit, and others were not sure if they should stay or leave. In the meantime, the camera crew made sure they were shooting every movement on stage. All of a sudden, the stage manager shouted instructions to the crew, and in seconds, they were running around, taking up their usual positions. When Peter’s voice started again on the speakers, it brought with it instant silence from the crowd. Only the movement from those who were still unsure of what to do created a little disturbance.

  ‘Just like you, I came here to see and to find a miracle, but we all know that by the will of God, this is not going to happen. Miracles did not stop when Jesus died on that cross. No, a bigger miracle happened three days after. He rose from the dead . . . to become an even stronger power than He was before his death. He became the Holy Ghost, capable of being in millions of places at the same time.’ It was as if Peter’s mindset had changed. He was no longer aware of being a beggar; he was no longer aware of the worn-out clothes he wore. He felt himself standing in front of a classroom. After many years, his teaching brain was in action again. A source of pleasure was taking charge, and he knew he was back where he belong, he was a teacher again. For that moment, he knew what was expected from him – teaching the truth and nothing less.

  ‘Look at you, all disappointed because the pastor did not show up. That does not mean that God or Jesus did not show up here tonight. Who said that God is not planning for you to be the miracle in someone else’s life? Who said that God would not use the person next to you to deliver your miracle to you? Who said that a miracle was denied to you tonight and who said that God did not want to test your commitment to Him before He committed to you? If the latter were the case, we would have definitely failed the test. Maybe we all just need a wake-up call from God to say that He needs us just as much as we need him. You might ask yourself what a powerful God like ours would need from little people like us.’

  He could see on the surprise looks that he had some attention.

  ‘I want you to take a good look around at the world you are living in. This place called Earth is being turned into a land where money and sex are the kings. We see chaos in all areas of life, in all countries of the world. Not even one country, irrespective of its size and power, is excluded from this chaos. Rape, murder, violent crimes, riots, sex amongst children, sex with children, unemployment, war, AIDS, divorces in their millions, famine, homeless people, hate crimes, corruption, and so much more! The sad part about this is that these are all self-inflicted problems created by us. It is almost laughable that we should come here for miracles from God to help with the inconvenience that we ourselves had created.

  In all honesty, we have created the animal that is now biting its masters. Now, we want miracles from God whilst refusing to let go of the same monsters that we so dearly love. We are so interested in our own personal healing that we do not care if this whole world rots around us. Do you think God feels good fixing us, knowing well we will continue to break down every rule that He wished for us to follow? What have you done for your Lord in the last year that makes you think you need to be rewarded with a miracle? People, we are human beings, the most powerful creatures roaming the universe, second only to the powers of nature. We are a species that was capable of sending a man to the moon. We have invented everything that makes our lives so easy that it is almost self-serving. Yet, it is with sadness that we have to admit that we have failed to secure the one thing we need most – peace. A peaceful mind creates a peaceful body, a peaceful environment, and finally a peaceful world. Peace is never going to come while we put ourselves in personal competition with one another. Where there is competition, there is rivalry. Where there is rivalry, there is jealousy, and where there is jealousy, there is war. Unfortunately, we love the competition too much to be worried about consequences.

  He felt good. His classroom was silent, and they were paying attention and he should not stop.

  ‘When we feel we cannot tolerate turmoil any more, we come to places like this for a miracle. You, the most powerful creature on earth, are you not capable of helping yourself. Have you not the faith that God can deal with you directly? If I have to quote the Bible referring to your life today, you cannot live only with expensive cars, electronic gadgets, designer clothes, and the Internet alone, but also with the word of God. Unfortunately, for today’s generation, God’s word is free, not expensive enough, and does not come with their favourite designer label. Nobody wants to be seen with, or be near anything that has ‘God’ written on it. In the end, we have failed to speak out against ungodly behaviour. Countries have now adopted constitutions that protect these ungodly sins. These sins have now become our lifestyle, and by these lifestyles, we have created our own suffering. It is in such abundance that we are no longer capable of dealing with it. Not surprisingly, moral decline is written on the sunrise of every day and we, the world’s most powerful creature, still fail to see it.

  ‘Maybe we do, but giving up the fun that comes with these monsters is a definite no-no. This is exactly what the people of Sodom and Gomorrah were thinking and never had a chance to restore. If I have to give you some good advice tonight,’ he said this very slowly, making sure that they grasped every word he was saying, “It will be not to fear the end of the world. At least God will be in charge over that event. He will make sure the good is not harmed in any way. You should fear the end of morality a thousand times more as no one will be spared by the desires of the evil minds we are creating.’ He moved two steps towards the edge of the stage, his eyes constantly focused on the now very silent crowd. ‘I’ll tell you what we should do. Stop believing that God’s laws are adjustable. Stop trying to practise freedom without God. Stop thinking that God’s principles and morals are pre-historical and old-fashioned. Stand up against a person who wants you to live in a godless world even if those persons are the presidents or kings of your country. Would you have the courage to do that? If you do, then surely you would have the right to demand a miracle from your God. Walking away just because there was no miracle going to happen here tonight should make us feel guilty right down to our bones. Remember God’s words: “Where there are two or more people gathered in My name, I surely would be there.” We were on the brink of letting Him stay here all by Himself, and He would have been very disappointed.’ Then he said, in a very calm voice, ‘Take this information from this fool today; we had killed Jesus thousands of years ago, and now, we have people plotting to rid God from our life. That plot can only be successful with your support and right now, we are all giving our approval to it. You can go home now, but I want to ask you a favour on behalf of God. Every one of us still wants from this same God to save us from misery, whatever it may be. Leave from here today and see how you could save God and Christ from being completely deleted from your daily life. If we cannot keep God and Jesus close enough to us, how can we possibly call on them when we need them? We are destroying everything Jesus died for and remember, we cannot expect to have fish on our plates while we are trying to destroy the sea. Thank you.’

  With a solemn face, he turned and walked past a young man, through the curtains, and disappeared amongst the cars parked behind the stage. The only thought on his mind was to get away from there. He still did not know what had come over him, doing what he just did. Sweat came down his face as he tried to move as fast as his legs could carry him. Was his dream to go back to teaching so strong that he had really made a fool of himself just as the man had said? This question followed him into the quiet streets of the city. The crowd was so overwhelmed by what they have heard that not one of them moved from their seats.
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br />   With the same astonishment, the stage manager, took the microphone, and started addressing them. ‘They say do not judge a book by its cover, and today I have experienced it firsthand. What a strong message, and what a great speaker. I cannot tell you who that man was, but I can honestly say we need speakers with that approach in today’s society. I hope you will leave here as filled by that message as I am. ‘I only hope that his wisdom is not going to be wasted. Now, as you will be leaving, the band will play, “Walking with the Lord, goodnight everybody.”

  Two people in the crowd could not believe what they had seen, and they were on opposite sides of the stadium. Kathy Atkinson could swear that voice belonged to the homeless man for whom she had bought the ticket. Two minutes into his speech, she had even uttered loudly, ‘It’s him.’

  That surprised her husband, who looked at her and asked, ‘Who?’ He asked again, ‘Who are you talking about?’ when she did not answer.

  ‘Never mind,’ she said, remembering how he had warned her about trusting a stranger in the manner she did. She felt blessed for buying a ticket for a man who was going to be the saviour of the event.

  Her disappointment was great at the cancellation of the event for this was her last hope in helping her husband. Since the death of their children, the loveable person she had fallen in love with, had changed and at times, he would turn into a monster. His grief brought forth pains that could sometimes become so unbearable that the strongest medication could only help to ease it for an hour or two. Doctors were no longer of any help as they told them they could not cure something they could not see. This miracle event, this last hope was blown into pieces when suddenly the same beggar appeared on the stage. The more she listened to him speak, the stronger became the compulsion to meet him again. Was this man sent to help me with my husband? She asked herself. Disappointments creep into her as he left the stage. Looking at the crowd already scattered, she knew it would not be possible to catch up with him. She watched him go until he disappeared behind the stage, and disappointment got hold of her. Thinking out loudly, she said, ‘Peter . . . how on earth?’

  Once more, her husband looked at her; this time more baffled, and asked, ‘Kathy, are you seeing a ghost or what?’

  She did not even make an effort to look at him. Her eyes were on Peter until he was completely out of sight.

  Ray Johnson stood on the other side of the stadium, a muddle of everything. Stunned, surprised, excited, and happy, but mostly relieved. He thought his father was dead and had already consoled himself that by looking for him, he was going to be shown a grave. Yet, within the first twenty-four hours of saying he was going to look for him, he had found him, or had he? He asked himself.

  When he saw him turning around, he hurried towards the stage in the hope of catching up with him. His excitement made him almost careless in his efforts to get to his father quickly. When he finally reached the podium, he found the young man talking to the producer.

  ‘Where is he?’ the producer asked.

  ‘I don’t know. He . . . he is gone.’

  Ray interrupted them, and he could see the frustration on the producer’s face.

  ‘Where is that man…the preacher?’ Ray asked.

  ‘What preacher?’ The producer laughed as he spoke to Ray. Without showing further interest in him, he turned his attention back to the young man. ‘Didn’t I tell you to find him? Tell everybody I am offering five thousand if they can bring him to me. I need to have a live interview with that man . . . sober, of course.’

  This angered Ray somewhat, but he controlled himself.

  The young man then finally turned to Ray. ‘That man is not a preacher, sir. We have no clue who or what he is but whoever he is, he sure saved us from a very awkward situation tonight. I think he is a homeless man from nowhere, but I hope I can get to see him again.’

  The word ‘homeless’ made Ray tremble with sadness and was just about to say something when the producer interrupted again, ‘Well, there is an offer of five thousand for any person. . . ’

  He did not get to finish his sentence when Ray grabbed him by the jacket.

  ‘If you put money on my father’s head one more time, I will knock yours right off your body. Do you understand...do you?’

  There was disbelief on the producer’s face. In fact, he was more stunned than annoyed. ‘Your father… did you say that man is your father?’

  Ray ignored the man and turned to the young man. ‘Let’s go find him.’

  The boy objected, ‘I can’t . . . I am sorry, sir. It is my duty to clean up the stage and check that every item is accounted for . . . I’m sorry, sir.’

  ‘I’ll go with you.’

  The man stepping forward was slightly shorter than Ray. He spoke in a husky voice, and he looked to be a very presentable young man in his early thirties.

  ‘Right now, it looks like I am out of a job. I’m working for The Paul Simmons’s Ministry . . . you know, the pastor who is in hospital now, but I like your father. I like the guts he had standing up like that tonight. I cannot think of anybody who would have done what he did this afternoon. This man is a born God’s person. Let’s go find your father.’

  ‘I am sorry. My name is Sean,’ he quickly added. He put his hand out to Ray and gave him a firm grip.

  ‘I’m Ray Johnson . . . pleased to meet you.’

  ‘Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go. Your father is already ten minutes ahead of us,’ he said as he looked at his watch. Without further hesitation, they hurried towards the car park, knowing that it was not going to be an easy task. The producer stood in disbelief as he stared after the two men as they hurried away. He could not believe what has been uncovered today. “Oh my dear lord...’ he said softly. ‘...could that man be Peter Johnson?”

  They were losing confidence in their search. Two long hours, and it seemed all in vain. Needing time to rest, they sat inside a coffee shop with disappointment on both faces. The clock on the wall showed it was already past ten o’clock and Ray wondered if they should not stop the search. After five years of missing his father, he was not going to give up that easily. There should be other ways of finding him, he thought.

  ‘I think we should walk the street during daytime. If he is a beggar, he should be on the streets to make some kind of effort to eat.’ Realising immediately what embarrassment his words could cause to Ray, Sean quickly added, ‘No insult meant by this, Ray, but we have to look at his current circumstances if we need to find him.’

  Ray’s eyes were not on Sean, he had not even heard a word of what he had said. He starred through the window, his eyes fixed on two persons standing at a shop entrance across the road. Sean followed his eyes, and they were both looking at the scene across the street. One of the men started to walk away with a parcel in his hand. The other started closing and locking the doors, then went back inside.

  ‘It’s him. It’s your father. Let’s go.’ Sean shouted excitedly.

  They could not get out of their chairs fast enough. Ray’s chair tumbled over, and he did not bother to pick it up. He was already outside the shop when he turned back to place a note on the counter and scream to the cashier, ‘Table five. Keep the change.’ Recklessly he ran across the street determined not to lose him again.

  They caught up with him just as he was locking the gate at the back of an old redundant building. ‘Dad . . . is that you?’

  Peter stopped immediately and with the key still in his hand, he asked, ‘Who is there?’

  ‘It is me, Dad, your son, Ray. I saw you on that stage tonight, and I am here to take you home with me.’

  There was silence as Peter could feel his body went ice-cold.

  ‘Ray, my boy, what are you doing here . . . ? How did you find me?’

  ‘Dad, you were on national TV tonight, remember? I was there watching you.’

  ‘Then I want you to go back home. I can’t be anybody’s father anymore,’ Peter tried to sound heartless, as he was not prepared for s
uch an encounter.

  ‘Dad, do not say anything like that, you cannot do . . . Let us get a place where we can talk. Please open the gate.’

  ‘I am sorry, but I have to ask you to leave. What happened there tonight was a mistake, a big mistake.’

  ‘No, Dad, what happened tonight is proof that you are still the wise man that you have always been. Please open up. I am not leaving.’ Ray said as he started to push and rattling the locked gate.

  Fearing the noise could bring some trouble; Peter opened the gate and let them through. His heartbeat was fast and he could feel his body shaking. Never did he wanted his son to see him like this. He tried all his life to set a good example for his children and Ray became the one he was most proud of. Although he wanted to hold his boy, he was not going to break down in front of the stranger who was next to him.

  ‘Be quiet. There are other people also sleeping here. All of us have to be out early in the morning. Nobody must know we are here, otherwise I will have to sleep on the streets.’

  ‘Why, Dad...why do you...?’

  ‘Shh . . .’ he whispered, and while fighting against his emotions, he led them into a container standing behind the building.

  ‘This is my home. It is all I have for now. Please do not make trouble for me . . . I still think you should come back in the morning, and then we can talk about . . .’

  ‘Mr Johnson,’ Sean interrupted him with a lot of respect in his voice.

  ‘How do you know my name son?’

  ‘Your son introduced himself to me earlier . . . I took your surnames to be the same, sir.’

  ‘All right, so what is it you have to say?’ Peter sounded impatient, as he wanted the two to leave. Sean noted that in his voice and knew he had to make good sense.

  ‘Bruce Ashton promised anybody who could bring you for an interview five thousand rand. I can do with that money sir, but that is not what I want. If you agree to an interview, I guess you can charge him anything. With respect, sir, that could act as a good bumper between you and this life you are living now. Mr Johnson, with all due respect, I think this is a calling for you. You impressed a whole nation today.’

  ‘You are who?’ Peter asked in a voice with much authority. Ray knew his father was still the same and had not lose one gram of his confidence. Sean also felt the conviction with which this man speaks and that makes him cautious.

  ‘I am Sean Andrews, the tour coordinator for Paul Simmons. I am very pleased to meet you, sir!’

  ‘Oh! I am sorry about the pastor. How is he now? How bad is he?’

  ‘He is still serious but stable. Most doctors reckon he’ll push through.’

  ‘Who is this Bruce Ashton that is so interested in me?’ Peter had his eyes fixed on Sean.

  ‘He is a producer for Live Entertainment TV, and . . . ’

  ‘Oh, is he the man who called me the fool tonight?’

  ‘Sorry to say, sir, but it is him.’

  ‘Well, I am not ready to make an arsehole of myself for the second time to the same man in a space of eight hours, and take his money . . . I won’t even give it a thought.’

  ‘Dad . . .’ Ray interrupted. ‘Dad you cannot live like this. I will not allow this. You have a grandson who last saw you when he was four years old. He has never forgotten you . . . you owe it to him to do something about this . . . this way, this . . .’ He could not find the right words. ‘Damn it, Dad, we need to work something out. We need to get you back home. I got some savings we could use to . . . ’

  ‘Listen, son. I already know I do not have a house anymore. It is sold . . . my own children sold my house. Three years ago, I wanted to come home, but even that was denied to me . . .’

  At that moment, Sean’s cell phone started ringing and it saved Ray the embarrassment.

  ‘Sean Andrews.’ He said speaking into the phone.

  After listening for a while to the person on the other side, they could hear him say, ‘Yes, madam, I am right here with him. I will hear what he has to say and phone you back. This is your number appearing on my phone, is it?’ he asked before he said goodbye and closed the phone. There was a tense silence hanging amongst them.

  ‘Well . . .’ Ray broke the silence.

  Sean, who was still puzzled, said, ‘Mr Johnson, do you know a woman by the name of Kathy Atkinson?’ He looked at Ray. In turn, Ray looked with enormous surprise at his father.

  ‘You have a woman in your life, Dad?’

  ‘Do I look like a person that can support a woman? ‘No, Ray, I don’t even know such a name.’ Peter turned to Sean who had a naughty smile from that statement.

  “Who was that?” Peter demanded from him.

  ‘Well, sir, she said you queued for their tickets,’ Sean answered quickly.

  ‘Then why did you not say so, you say you have her number? Phone her and tell her I will call her tomorrow morning. Just leave the number with me, please.’

  Sean dialled the number, and the two stayed quiet while he gave the message to Kathy.

  The conversation did not last long, and Sean immediately addressed Peter. ‘You better keep your promise to her, sir. She is really excited, knowing you are going to call.’

  Not trying to make an issue out of the call to Kathy, Peter replied, ‘Well, gentlemen, it is late, and I think you should go. I need some sleep. We will talk again tomorrow.’

  ‘Dad, I’m not leaving. You are coming with me.’

  ‘Ray, my son, listen carefully. I am your father, and I made some wrong decisions in the past. The biggest was leaving my children. Some of you did not turn out to be what I thought would have been best for you, but I still love all of you. I prayed everyday for your safekeeping and hoped one day to meet up with all of you. You know, when I lost my job, I became a nothing. I can tell you this. Even before I left home, I was already a beggar in my own house. Three years ago, I put the guts together to go back to my house and family. I do not have to tell you how I felt when I found other people staying there. The kind of pain I felt that day, I would wish upon nobody. Why sell the house that I thought would one day go to my grandchildren. Why?’

  ‘Dad, I . . . In fact, Ross and I only heard about it when it was too late. As much as we fought to get it back, we lost. Life is not over for you, Dad. I have a big house with your grandson in it. You can come home to us anytime . . . right now, if you wish, and Ross, he would also be happy to have you back.’

  ‘It is not that easy, Ray. I am not trying to be a stubborn old man, but without a house that I can call my own at this age, I will just be an obstacle again. I will have needs for the basic things in a man’s life. No, Ray, I am just not ready to be a burden on anybody again. I met some new friends while living on the streets, people my age. For most of them, the word “future” does not exist. Each day, each meal, and any moment of laughter are the most precious things in our lives. Yes, every day I pray for a second chance and as much as they laugh at me for this, I know it is going to come. Hoping on my children was not an option. This generation is far too busy competing with themselves. For them, parents do not exist. Look around you, son. This is not a world any more. This has become Satan’s paradise.’

  Sean could see Ray’s embarrassment and turned to Peter, ‘Mr Johnson, you really touched me this afternoon, and you did so with a lot of people in that stadium. You have a good way with words. I think you should talk to Bruce Ashton. Give it a try, sir. It might just change your life.’

  Peter, now really tired, just walked past both of them. ‘Listen here, Sean, do not live in a fool’s world. In case you did not notice, the man that was on that stage tonight was a hobo, a beggar. People must be having a lot of fun talking about it. Right now, I need some sleep. We can talk again tomorrow.’

  Ray knew he was not going to convince his father to go with him. For now, he was going to give in, but not without a promise of meeting him again the following day. ‘All right, Dad, I will only leave on one condition, that you will meet me at the shopping centre o
n the corner of Shelby and Church Street. I will be there at ten. If you promise me you will be there, I will leave you alone.’

  ‘Son, I am already crying inside for the love that you show. I am happy to see you still care. That alone is enough reason to meet you there and I promise not to disappoint you.’

  Ray knew he could trust a promise from his father, as he was a man of principle. He moved closer to him and gave him a very tight hug. ‘I will see you tomorrow, Dad,’ he said.

  Three minutes later, he watched his father lock the gate and could feel the disappointment in not having him come with him. He consoled himself by knowing that he was alive and knew that it would take just a little bit of time and patience to have him home again.