Snippets of conversation drifted across from those huddled in groups nearby. Natalie couldn’t help but eavesdrop as they discussed the ups and downs of their lives. Someone’s recent illness. A new place by the river where some of them had recently set up camp. And a new location for one of the food vans that did the supper run. Such basic needs – health, food and shelter - yet something Natalie so often took for granted.
Lord, help me to not lose sight of how much you’ve blessed me. Help me to reach these people and show them your love. Help them to know there is hope.
“Did ya work last night?” Smiley hovered at the end of the table, scratching his arm. Natalie handed him a steaming cup of tea, before shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket.
“I did. It wasn’t overly busy, though.” She eyed the inflamed skin beneath the faded dragon tattoo covering his forearm. “Do you need some cream?”
“Nah, I’ll be right.” Natalie inwardly winced at Smiley’s scratching when his overgrown fingernails drew blood.
“Well, you know where the clinic is. Or, I can bring some cream along tomorrow morning.”
“It’s all good, love. It’ll heal up by itself. But thanks, anyway.” Natalie ignored Smiley’s dismissal and made a mental note to ask Graham to pack some steroid cream for the following day. The last thing the older man needed was an infection.
With his cup of tea in one hand, and a breakfast bag in the other, Smiley ambled across to the fig tree and sat down next to the man who accompanied him every morning. It bothered her that she couldn’t recall his name from their brief introduction, and she hadn’t had a chance to ask him again because he appeared to be in a rush after grabbing his breakfast pack.
Curiosity at their friendship piqued Natalie’s interest. How had they gotten where they were? What had happened in their lives that they ended up on the street? The younger one always seemed to be looking out for Smiley. Were they related? They didn’t appear to have any similar features, but it was difficult to tell with Smiley’s beard and weathered skin covering what once could have been a very handsome face. And she hadn’t really taken a good look at the other man, other than to notice his thick wavy hair that curled at the base of his neck, and the beard covering his tanned face. His clothes were still in decent condition compared to the other homeless folk that frequented the van. And despite the hint of sadness in his mocha brown eyes, he carried himself well.
Okay. So she’d had more of a look than she was willing to admit.
A young man with dreadlocks appeared in her line of sight, drawing her attention back to the task at hand and the reason she was there. She handed him a cup of coffee before turning to the next man in line.
“Uh, uh. Just two slices of bread, Jimmy. You know the rules.” She wagged her finger, smiling at the middle-aged man trying to sneak an extra helping of bread.
“Aw, sorry, Miss.”
“That’s okay. I’ll allow it this once.”
With a grin, Jimmy placed the extra slice of bread into his bag and walked away.
With a sigh, Natalie wiped the table and scraped the crumbs into the bin. It hurt to say no, to deny people such a simple need, but Graham and Sue had told her they needed to draw a line somewhere or else people would always take advantage of their generosity.
“We’re providing them with a decent breakfast. There are also a few places around the city that offer food throughout the day. Plus there’s another church that does the supper run. Most of the people we serve receive some sort of welfare, and some of them also beg for money, so they can buy food if and when they need to.” Graham gently informed her over coffee at South Bank when she’d first volunteered to help with the street van.
“I wish I could do more,” Natalie sighed. “It’s hard when we have so much. Doesn’t God want us to give of what we have?”
“He does. And I agree it is hard when we have so much. But you also need to remember we are helping them. We’re not responsible for their actions or the choices they’ve made to end up where they are. Surprisingly, not all of them want to change,” Sue had added. “We offer our love, and we show them a way out of their situation. It’s up to them if they want to choose that path.”
Offering food rations seemed so harsh at first. Shouldn’t they be doing everything they could to help these people? Some of the stories Graham and Sue told Natalie broke her heart. Sad tales of domestic violence and sexual abuse. Bankruptcy. Drug addiction. Family breakdown. All stories where one poor choice led to another, and soon, there was nothing left for them but rock bottom and living on the streets.
As Natalie served each morning, she tried to gain a glimpse into each person’s life. To look beyond the rough exteriors and see each person for who that individual was. After all, each and every one of them was loved beyond measure and valuable in God’s eyes. Shouldn’t she see them in the same light? With each cup of tea or coffee she handed out, she offered a smile and a kind word. A gamut of emotions reflected back at her in the eyes of those she served. Loneliness. Discouragement. Despair. It broke her heart and made her even more determined to help where and when she could. If God called, she would follow.
“Got a boyfriend yet?” Natalie jumped as a raspy voice cut through her thoughts. Boiling water splashed from the spout of the urn onto her wrist. Flinching, she dabbed a cloth over the scald and turned, grinning at the dark-skinned woman with curly brown hair holding a plate piled high with slices of orange and a piece of bread. Mud brown eyes shone up at Natalie from a face marred by scar tissue running along the woman’s right cheek.
“Not yet, Esme. How about you?” Dunking a tea bag into a foam cup of boiling water, Natalie watched the brown curls swirl through the liquid. A heartfelt cackle escaped the other woman’s lips.
“That’ll be the day, darl. He’d have to be blind to have me. Have you seen what I look like?” Esme waved one hand over her generous curves covered by a flowing purple skirt. Stains marked her loose-fitting bright green t-shirt, and she wore brown flip-flops on her cracked feet, revealing toenails that were well overdue for a trim.
“You’re absolutely gorgeous.” Natalie set the cup down and reached across the table, giving Esme’s arm a gentle squeeze. “Besides, it’s what’s on the inside that counts. And you have a beautiful heart.”
Sue had shared some of Esme’s story with her. A victim of horrific domestic abuse, Esme had escaped the confines of her marriage with nothing but the clothes on her back. Over the previous five years, she’d alternated between stranger’s homes, and renting on her own. But with medical bills piling up, she could no longer afford cheap rental accommodation, and the streets and parks around Brisbane had become her home.
“Oh, you’re too kind, darling girl. I really hope a special someone comes along for you soon. You deserve a man who will shower you with his love, just like you do for us. You’re too young to be spending a lifetime alone.”
Natalie pressed a hand to her chest, tears stinging her eyes as she watched the kind-hearted woman limp her way across the grass to join a group gathered by the water’s edge.
As much as she hoped to make a difference in people’s lives, she wondered if in fact, she was the one being blessed by the kind words from the people she came to serve.
After the last of the breakfast was served, Natalie packed away the tea and coffee supplies while Graham continued talking with some of the people milling around. Smiley and his friend had gathered their belongings and had disappeared to wherever they went for the rest of the day.
“What are your plans today?” Sue asked, as they folded the legs on the table and carried it to the van.
“I’m working this evening,” Natalie replied. “I’ll probably do some tidying up around my apartment when I get home, and try to have a nap before I start my shift.”
“Good idea to have a nap. We don’t want you burning yourself out.”
“Yes, Mum.” Natalie grinned over her shoulder as she grabbed her satchel from behind the se
at of the van. “What about you and Graham? What are your plans?”
Sue adjusted the mirrored sunglasses on the bridge of her nose before glancing at her watch. “I’ve got a couple of counselling sessions this morning. Graham has clinic at his practice, and then he’s working at the street clinic tonight.”
“Well, make sure you both don’t burn out as well.” Natalie winked before waving goodbye. Folding her jacket over her arm, she made her way along the path by the river, waving goodbye to the last of the breakfast crowd, before crossing over the bridge back into the city.
Ferries zigzagged across the open brown water, while pedestrians and cyclists vied for space on the footbridge linking one side of the city to the other. Car horns blasted as peak hour traffic began to gridlock the streets. The city was well and truly alive, and Natalie’s heart was full.
She loved the people she served, the friendships she was forming, and she wanted more than anything to see each of them know their worth and come to know their Maker.
6
Tossing the paper bag and empty cup into a metal rubbish bin underneath the picnic shelter, Ben followed Smiley along the footpath by the water. Weeds sprouted up through the cracks in the path, and graffiti tags in black and red added a pop of colour to the stretch of bland concrete winding its way along the river’s edge.
Most days the pair headed to a quieter spot by the river, away from the park, away from the day time crowds – the suits stopping by for their lunch breaks, the parenting groups with their children, and the school groups on excursions. Ben didn’t like being the object of people’s curious and often disdainful stares. And it wasn’t fair to intrude on the public’s enjoyment of the outdoor spaces. Not that he and Smiley caused any disruption. But he was mindful of their presence and how uncomfortable others felt around the homeless.
Smiley left the path and pulled his trolley to a stop beneath the wide branches of a fig tree providing shade from the sun. Black sediment licked the edges of the concrete bridge pillars jutting out of the murky river. Litter floated on the current, discarded by passers-by too lazy to dispose of their rubbish appropriately. This was the ‘behind-the-scenes’ that most people didn’t know about. The stench. The eye-sore. The ugly side of the beautiful city that Ben hadn’t been fully aware of until circumstances forced him to find shelter where he could.
The sun glinted off the side of a sleek black shell as a crew of school students from one of the nearby elite private schools rowed towards the middle of the river, the coxswain’s orders barking across the water. A painful ache clenched in the pit of his stomach as his mind fast-forwarded to the unknown and the possibility that Millie could be doing the very same thing in years to come. Training hard. Up early each morning to row with her crew. Would he be around to watch?
“Do you ever wonder where your kids are?” Ben plucked a blade of grass from the thin patch growing in the shade of the tree. Drawing one knee to his chest, he draped an arm over the top and twirled the grass between his fingers. Pedestrians and cyclists made their way along the bridge above them. Cars sped by, the impatient blast of horns filling the air. All around them, the city was buzzing with life. And they were the invisible ones. Unnoticed as the world rushed by.
“All the time.” Smiley sat cross-legged and dragged a stick through the dirt. Backwards and forwards, forming a small trench in the ground. “All I know is that Evie’s in Townsville, and Mark’s in Victoria. I haven’t seen them in years.” Tears glistened in the older man’s eyes as he gazed across the water. His usual upbeat, raspy voice now mellow. Sombre. “I messed up, and they didn’t want to have anythin’ to do with me. Breaks my heart.” Smiley sniffed and abruptly lifted the collar of his shirt to wipe his eyes.
“Have you tried to get in touch?” Ben’s heart clenched in his chest. He didn’t want to endure the same fate as Smiley. He didn’t want to be a father from a distance. He wanted to keep in touch with his children. To be a part of their lives. Surely there was a possibility that could still happen. That’s what gave him the courage to keep going after all these months. Even when he was rejected time and again for a job. Even when he barely had a cent to his name. Even when all his possessions were contained in the bag by his side. He still held on to the tiniest thread of hope that he would be able to see his children again.
“A few times over the years. I’ve got my contacts who keep me informed of how they’re doin’. But I’d rather know how they’re doin’ from a distance. As much as it breaks my heart not to see them, they don’t need me to disrupt their lives.”
The splash of oars slicing through the water drew Ben’s attention to the rowers. Would Millie want to see him again? Would she even recognise him?
It hadn’t been that long since that dreadful day he was forced to say goodbye, but if Krista had her way, she probably didn’t even mention his name. And he doubted his ex-wife would tell their baby about him when he, or she, was old enough to understand.
Pain seared through his chest at the thought of being a father again. Who did his baby look like? Did they have his dark hair, or Krista’s fair locks, like Millie? Did they sleep well, or were they unsettled at night? It tore at his heart not to know. He could try to contact Krista again, but her father would assert his status and pull out all stops to protect his only daughter. Besides, he couldn’t bear for Millie to see him as he was. He wanted her to have good memories of him. Not be scarred by some homeless bum who couldn’t even hold his family together.
Choking back a sob, Ben squeezed his hands into fists, digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands. Would he ever have the opportunity to see his children again? Would he have the chance to be the father he so desired to be?
If only he’d been upfront about the financial woes with Krista from the start. If only he hadn’t tried to be someone he wasn’t. If only he’d been man enough to refuse her demands for the best of everything. He’d been far too stubborn to admit his failings and seek help earlier. His time on the streets without anything encumbering him was meant to be temporary. A time to process his mistakes and make some sort of plan for his life. But as he gazed out across the river – the definitive line between his present reality and the one he once knew - Ben wondered what the future held.
Bony fingers gripped his shoulder squeezing a gentle reassurance.
“You’ll get there, son. As hard as it is, the thought of my kids doing somethin’ good in the world keeps me movin’ forward. They’ve gotta be better than their old man.”
Ben ran a hand over his jaw. He could only live in hope. He wanted, no, needed to find a way out of the quagmire of his life and prove once more that he was someone. He didn’t care about the extra trimmings in life he’d once strived for. All he wanted was to make his kids proud.
7
After locking her bag away, and placing her evening meal in the staff fridge, Natalie ventured out to the fish bowl – the glassed off area in the centre of the emergency department where doctors and nurses gathered, enabling them to see every cubicle across the floor.
“I’ve put you in triage, Natalie. It hasn’t been too bad out there today.”
She nodded at Simon Faircliffe, the broad-shouldered nurse manager who towered over most of the staff. His no-nonsense attitude was perfect for running the busy metropolitan department. Firm enough to defuse tense situations, yet soft enough to show empathy when it was needed. The staff dispersed to their allocated areas after Simon finished debriefing the incoming shift on the day’s events and current admissions occupying the beds.
Natalie made her way through the noisy department towards the triage desk extending behind a glass partition that overlooked the waiting room. A carpet cleaning commercial played on the television set in the corner of the room. Bangs and squeaks sounded from the playpen underneath the window as two children amused themselves with an assortment of toys.
“Much happening this afternoon?” Natalie wheeled a chair over beside Penny, the longest serving nurse in th
e busy ED, and glanced around the waiting room. At least six people were seated on the plastic chairs waiting to be seen.
“It doesn’t look too bad. A few abdominal pains. A chesty cough. An infected toenail. We haven’t had any major calls come through, so hopefully it won’t be too busy for you.” Penny lowered the glasses on the chain around her neck and finished entering some data into the computer.
“Have all of these been triaged?” Natalie eyed the waiting room again before flipping through the stack of files on the desk.
“Just waiting to be seen. There’s nothing too big in there. I’m not sure why they couldn’t go to their local doctor.” The older woman shook her head, her grey curls bouncing around her face. “Then again, tomorrow’s Saturday, and they’ll be charged extra for an out-of-hours consult.”
“True. It’s so frustrating, though. Hopefully we’ll be able to get through them and clear the waiting room before it gets too crazy.” Shaking her head, Natalie tried to keep the judgement from her thoughts.
It was becoming a nation-wide problem - people filling up emergency departments with non-urgent issues, rather than going to their local doctors. No wonder the wait time was so long. The hospital had already been on high alert with limited bed availability in the few months she’d been there. They’d had patients on gurneys lined up in corridors awaiting beds. She wished she could inform patients that things like constipation, or one episode of vomiting did not warrant a trip to the emergency department. But she valued her job, and kept her mouth shut, caring for the minor cases in the same way she would any other patient.
Penny tucked her pen into the top pocket of her scrubs before logging off the computer. Pushing the chair under the desk, she grabbed her jacket and turned to Natalie. “Good luck. I hope it’s not too bad for you. It’s meant to be a full moon tonight, and you know what that means.”
River's Edge (Hope Rising Book 1) Page 3