‘I’m a victim of circumstance!’
The catchphrase of Curly of the Three Stooges had been his lifelong internal mantra.
When things happened to him, they rarely came about by his own choice; his parents, teachers, officers, non-commissioned officers and now his employer ran everything for him. Like the former, the latter had also invaded his private life…
His manageress informed him that he had too much leave, and if he didn’t use it by a certain date in the very near future, he would lose it.
When he asked her why she didn’t tell him of his situation sooner so he could have made some plans, she giggled nervously and said, ‘never mind’.
His office had selected, employed, trained, mentored and coached him to think ahead to predict and detect falsehoods, frauds and criminal actions, yet they seemed surprised and upset that he didn't swallow the ones they spun to their employees...
One of his workmates told him about the wonderful holiday that he had on the South Coast with a beautiful beach, a cheap but attractive hotel and…He made reservations and packed his beach gear.
Her control of his life continued; at the last minute she informed him that she needed him to work the very day he was to leave.
He anxiously watched the clock as he worked. Though he had to leave by a certain time to make his coach, she came out smiling and gathered everyone around just before his departure.
‘Gather round, everyone! We have cake for you.’
He looked at his black faced wristwatch with the metal dial on it.
‘Never mind’, she told him. ‘This won’t take long.’
It was the office’s standard issue tea-party for their staff with teabags, instant coffee, powdered milk and a supermarket cake. His manageress was also stale and artificially sweetened…Bring your own fun…
Road-gression
The day was a rainy one, but he had his umbrella. Wearing his usual navy-blue suit, with his large broadbrimmed Panama hat and single suitcase he brought to his office with him, he boarded the evening coach to the South Coast in the nick of time.
His coach driver disregarded the current radio and played what she liked best, a folksinger from the early 1960s singing,
‘Bon Soir, Cher’
In an amazing coincidence, he once owned the Nancy Ames 1963 record album the coach driver played. It was as if the bus was driving to his pleasant past as Nancy now sang the exotic Alma Corazon Y Vida. The rain had stopped, they now were driving by the sea, and they were literally chasing a rainbow.
Nancy continued her singing as his coach kept going south…south…,
‘The South Coast is wild coast and lonely…a man there is always alone…’
In an exciting song with bongos, Nancy was now giving advice to a Young Young Man to take all the adventure and romance that he could in his short life.
Nancy gave way to the We Five; he delightfully recognised Somewhere Beyond the Sea and Cast Your Fate to the Wind.
He spoke to the driver from his seat complimenting her about her choice of music. She answered in delight,
‘Where are you staying?’
After he told her, she replied she would take him right to his hotel’s door.
She was true to her word.
Reception
The smart receptionist wearing a peach-coloured blazer introduced herself as Liz.
‘You must be somebody…the coach has never stopped here before…we never see anyone dressed like you either…the police don’t usually come here…’
‘Everybody’s somebody sometime…I just dress like this to get the free Maccas.’
‘There’s no McDonalds anywhere near here, our town has a variety of excellent food.’
As Liz briefed him on his hotel, he was being watched by the only one in the foyer…a dark-haired tanned and fit woman near his age who placed the book she was reading down next to her cocktail. She was dressed in a colourful blue top, white skirt and the reddest lipstick he had ever seen. He turned to her and fanned himself with his Panama hat as he cocked his eyebrow.
Rather than saying anything, she began to sing,
‘The South Coast is wild coast and lonely…and a man there is always alone…’
‘Today’s the first time I’ve heard that song in a long, long time…but it’s the second time I’ve heard it today.’
‘Do you know the story of the song?’
‘No…’
‘I’ll tell you tomorrow…’, she walked up the stairwell; he would have joined her had he not still been conducting business at reception with Liz…
‘You’ve heard who I am…’, he said to her back.
She stopped and turned,
‘I’m Random…’, she said it an American accent in what sounded more of a warning than a greeting…
‘Name, presence, or personality?’
‘All of the above.’
‘Random Chance?’
‘Just Random…I’ll see you tomorrow…’
Revival
He had slept too well; he rose amazed at how late it was. He didn’t want to miss his hotel breakfast.
Unshaven, he was dressed in his unironed, unstarched short-sleeved white shirt worn outside his navy suit trousers with the top three buttons undone; his highly polished black oxfords and socks were replaced by sandals.
Arriving in time to a cacophony of women whose conversation and matching flight bags revealed they were on the same tour group, he looked for a place to sit.
Liz was still there, poor thing. She beckoned him.
‘You look relaxed already…’
She seated him at a quiet table for two on the balcony with a coastal view, a vase of fresh colourful flowers and a glass of orange juice waiting for him.
‘Long black?’
‘How did you know, Liz?’
‘You look the type…How do you like your eggs?’
‘Scrambled with Parmesan mixed in?’
‘Done.’
‘With grilled tomatoes, bacon and sourdough toast?’
‘Done and dusted.’
He sipped his orange juice as he admired the view and the brilliant sunny morning.
Rendezvous
‘The South Coast is wild coast and lonely…’, sang Random as she joined him at his table. Liz brought her a long black as well…
‘A man there is no longer alone’, he sang. ‘Now...the question you’d never thought a man would ever ask you…’
Her eyes grew large,
‘What on earth is a barranca? And how and why does a lion rule it?’
She smiled in relief,
‘It’s a Spanish-American word for a narrow, winding river gorge. In 1926 a woman named Lillian Bos Ross and her husband went hiking in the wilds of Big Sur…have you ever been there?’
‘No, but I saw The Sandpiper, with Elizabeth Taylor as a single mother living there in a pretty swish place…’
‘You can only get away with that if you’re Liz Taylor’, she smiled, ‘I’m from California and I can’t get anything like that…anyway, they saw the ruins of an old house in the middle of nowhere. She wrote a poem called The Coast Ballad that became the South Coast song about a vaquero son of a Spanish grandee winning his wife in a card game. Unfortunately, a mountain lion comes out of the barranca in the moonlight and spooks her horse; she’s thrown to her death down the barranca, and he’s forever alone…’
‘It’s always something, isn’t it?…How did you end up here…at Random?’
She took a spoonful of his Parmesan scrambled eggs, her expression showed she loved them as well.
‘Do the winds speak to you?’
‘If they did, I never listened. What do they say to you?’
‘Go…go with the flow…One day I woke up and decided to leave banking and come to Australia!’
‘Americans always say Australia with an exclamation mark! Pommies always say it with an ellipse…’
She took another spoonful of his eggs and a slice of bacon,
‘I’m enjoying myself…’
‘So I see…I also heard another song about a Young, Young Man being advised to seize the day and do just that.’
‘Something is playing the right songs for you…’
‘Or some One…’
Revelry
A pair of rainbow-chested green lorikeets landed on the rail of their balcony. She made noises of pleasure like a child.
‘Would you like them eating out of your hand?’
No words were necessary, he took her hand and emptied the contents of a packet of raw sugar in her palm,
‘Sweets to the sweet…’
Then he held her hand out…the birds sat on her palm to eat the sugar.
‘I’ve never seen anything so beautiful!’
‘Look in a mirror…’
‘Everyone should…’.
The pair of lorikeets finished their breakfast and flew off to the land of fun.
‘Join me for body surfing after brekkies?’
‘Who could refuse an offer like that…you’re picking up Strine rather well, Random…’
Refreshment
The surf, as well as the day was perfect. They put lotion on each other’s backs then went into the South Pacific where they were propelled by the waves as if they were flying like Superman.
They eventually went ashore to lay on their beach towels. She dozed off with his hat over her face as he watched the surf; he soon followed her in sleep.
She woke him with a kiss,
‘Teatime?’, he asked.
She answered him with a smile.
------ To BE CONTINUED ------