Waiting for Andrew

by Ché Monro

I clutched the ferry token in my fist as I stared down the length of the dock, waiting for Andrew to appear. The covered wooden passage was a brightly lit tunnel leading back up the dock into darkness. The last few passengers scurried across the dock and up the gangway over the dark water.

"All aboard!" the Porter called. "All aboard!"

There was a deep, mournful blast from the ferry's horn.

"No wait," I shouted. "Please wait, Andrew will be here! I know he will. He said that he would meet me here!" I looked back down the dock, willing Andrew's familiar shape to appear, but there was no-one. "Please, wait!"

I turned back to the ferry, but the porter blocked my way, holding his arms wide. "I'm sorry Miss, but the gangway has gone up."

"Oh but I must, I, I, Oh where is Andrew!" Suddenly I was crying, which is something I almost never do, and I held my hands up to cover my eyes and in the process I dropped the token which rang on the wooden dock.

The ferry gave another long, deafening blast of its horn, the deep noise reverberating out over the black waters of the river. Then there was the throb of it's engines and the wash began to swirl and hiss among the piles.

The old porter put his arm around me, his black woolen jumper smelling of salt and the sea. "There there, Miss. The ferry will be back for another run tomorrow night and maybe your young man will be along them. I better find you somewhere to stay in the meantime I suppose." He bent and picked up the token, handing it back to me. "You'll want to hold onto that, Miss. The Captain, he's a bit particular about folks who can't pay, that he is."

"Oh, thank you." I whispered, drying my eyes. "I-I'm not normally like this. I know that Andrew was going to meet me here and then I missed the ferry, oh dear, I don't even remember how I got here..."

"You better take good care of that coin, Miss. Have you got a chain or something? You could put it through the hole in the middle there and wear it about your neck. That way it would stay safe. Hmm. You're new here, aren't you? Well come on, let's go up to the Café. I'm sure someone will be able to put you up."

I followed the old porter up the cobbled street through the mists. The sky was just turning grey with dawn but the street was still dark and slick from the rain. At the Cafe the porter, who's name was Reuben, introduced me to Angela who offered to let me stay over with her.

"You're new, aren't you?" she said as we walked back down towards the docks along the river. "Poor thing, I remember how confusing it is at first." There was something about Angela's shoulder length brown hair and the way she wore her long grey coat which seemed familiar somehow, but I was too tired and miserable to try and work it out. Angela lived on an old black houseboat that looked as if it had once been a barge, if it had a name I couldn't see it. The boat floated low in the misty water, looking to be on the verge of sinking. The sky above was just turning blue and the clouds to gold as Angela led me down the gangway. "Home sweet home. You look dead, here, you can have this bunk."

I kicked off my shoes and pulled of my jeans, tumbling into bed. A couple of tears leaked from my eyes as I lay there, feeling the boat gently rocking beneath me. Why hadn't Andrew come? Before I knew it I was asleep.

~*~

When I woke up dim light illuminated in the bunk, I knew I'd slept for hours and hours. My eyes were gummy and my body felt stiff. I got up slowly and looked around the little boat. There was no sign of Angela so I guessed she must have gone out. I found the boat's tiny shower cubical and stumbled inside, thanking God for hot water and soap. I finally began to feel half awake and alive. After showered and towelled off I got back into my old clothes reluctantly. I'd have to get something else to wear. I shook my head, I couldn't understand why I'd come without my purse or any luggage. I wished Andrew was here, he'd know what to do.

Outside the a chill wind was blowing. The sky was blue and the afternoon light slanted across the dock as the sun sank towards the horizon. I climbed up the gang plank onto the grey wood of the dock. The piles were painted white, the rest of the wood was a pale grey from age and sunlight. A single seagull regarded me with beady eyes from atop one of the piles. Half the horizon was taken up by the dank grey waters of the river which flowed past sluggishly. On the other side the town heaved up in a sullen hummock, wooden houses of black and grey with steep gabled roofs.

The seagull let out a caw and flew off across the water in a long graceful swoop, grey on grey until it vanished in the distance. The town seemed to be deserted, abandoned. I walked along the dock.

A man appeared from an alley and shuffled along the cobbled quay-side. His hair was wild and grey and his clothes had a shabby, neglected look to them. He muttered to himself and when he caught me looking at him he stared at me with pale blue eyes, intense and compelling.

"Limbo some calls it," he said hoarsely. "The Twilight Shore. Port Eternity. Wheels of fire in the night sky. I've seen them! Angels!"

I shrank back against the piles of the dock, but then Angela came down the street and shooed the strange old man away. She had a parcel under one arm and a plastic bag of sliced bread in the other.

"Don't be scared of old Abel," she said. "He's been drinking the water again. Don't ever drink the river water, it drives you mad, or makes you forget. Drink the water from the tank in the barge or from the taps up at the cafe if you're thirsty. Come on, I've got fish and chips."

We sat on the dock and ate steaming fish and chips, chattering about inconsequential things and throwing chips to the seagulls. The docks were still deserted, the old man having vanished again about his incomprehensible business. On one side of us there was an old wooden hulk with no masts, seemingly rotting in the water as it lay moored. On the other side, beyond the houseboat barge was a big rusty metal tank which floated low in the water, ripples washing over it. Every now and then it knocked against a pile with a low metallic ringing sound.

"The town doesn't really get going until dusk," Angela explained. Already the sun was almost to the horizon. "You're shivering. Come on, there are some old clothes on the barge you can look over." In the cramped space on board the barge Angela pulled a chest out from under one of the bunks and opened it to reveal some old clothes. They smelled strongly of camphor. Most of them seemed ancient, old dresses with floor length skirts and men's clothes that might have been a century old.

"These were here before I came. The last tenant left them," Angela said.

I found some pants and a man's shirt that fit alright, and added a thick black woolen seaman's jumper which reminded me of Reuben. "There's not much by way of underwear," I said doubtfully. "Well, at least, I can't wear petticoats with jeans."

Angela laughed at that. "We can ask up at the café. Someone will have something more modern, I guess. I've got to warn you though, it's catch as catch can around this place."

I nodded and smiled gratefully. We stowed the trunk away again and I changed, luxuriating in the warmth of the jumper. I washed my clothes by hand in the tub with soap and then went up on deck to peg them out on the line. Night had fallen and it was dark, although there were electric lights along the dock, and one or two of the windows in town showed a warm yellow glow. When I was finished Angela came out, turning off the lights on the houseboat but not bothering to lock the hatch. Together we walked up the darkened streets to the café.

~*~

For a town that seemed so deserted the little Café was jumping, all sorts of people were drifting in from the dark. I smiled shyly and nodded to Reuben who was sitting on a chair by the door smoking a pipe as we made our way to a table. A waitress took our order and brought us some drinks. Neither of us was feeling very hungry.

"I should go down to the wharf," I said half to myself. "What if Andrew comes while I'm here."

"Stay here with me," Angela said, reaching out to touch my hand. "The ferry doesn't come till midnight and he'll probably come here if he arrives before then."

"Yeah." I nodded and bit my lip. She was right but it didn't feel right somehow. I wanted to be doing something.

A couple of other women came in and drifted over to our table. Angela introduced them, and a man came over from another table to join us. The Café was starting to fill up. The waitress seemed overworked so I gathered up the empty glasses and took them over to the counter. The woman there looked up and smiled. She was an older woman, matronly, greying, but there was a thinness to her face, as if she'd lost weight.

"Bless you dear. You're new, aren't you, I'm Isabel."

"Yes, I am. I'm Lisa. Um, you look busy, do you want some help?" It would fill time until midnight.

"Help? I'd love some help. We've been short staffed all last week. Can you take orders?"

"Sure, I've done it before."

"That's wonderful. You're an angel." She handed me a notepad and an apron and waved towards the table, then she went out the back to the kitchens.

I got to work taking orders and bringing people their food. The regulars just took their orders with thanks, but one of the newcomers tried to pay me. There was no till, so I took the money to Isabell to ask her what to do with it.

"Just tell them to keep it for the Ferryman," she advised. "We don't take money here. Or credit cards!"

I smiled and nodded and went back to serving, the time dragged past and midnight slowly approached. It couldn't have been much past eleven when I started to feel the pull. I hung up my apron and left, drifting down the lonely streets towards the river. The ferry wharf was all lit up, a long bright tunnel leading out over the river. There were already people waiting, grey, thin looking men and women who didn't look up as I approached.

I went out to the end of the pier and sat watching the reflections of the lights on the black water. Above me there was a big blinking light that flashed red, and green, and then red again. I sat there for a long time, feeling the pull. It was like an emptiness inside my chest which tugged me out towards the river and the unseen shore beyond. I sat there for a while staring at the water until Reuben came and put his hands on my arms and stood me up. "Don't do that, Miss. Don't touch it, and don't drink it, and whatever you do don't jump or fall into it. It'll make you forget."

"Forget?"

"Forget everything."

With the pain in my chest that almost sounded inviting. It hurt so much I couldn't breathe.

A long, mournful sound rang out across the river. Out in the blackness there was a star shining across the water. It was the ferry. Soon the bulk of it loomed up and crashed against the pier, the wash splashing and hissing among the piles below. Another long blast of the horn announced the ferry's arrival. Reuben caught a rope thrown from the deck and wrapped it skilfully around one of the rusty iron bollards. The gangway clattered down onto the wooden surface of the dock.

A small crowd of people had made their way down from the café and they began to climb aboard, fishing in their pockets for coins or notes. None of them was Andrew. There were a few more people coming now, and then there would be still more, until the ferry left. He must come. Sooner or later he must come walking down the dock and I would be here. Shivering from the pull of the ferry and the river I went over to a bench and sat down to wait.

The End