The River

Just a Moment

I am not a spiritual person so I cannot explain what happened this morning. 

Just a vulnerable young man on a bike and me. 

Maybe it means nothing.

I see the bike first.

Half on the path, half swallowed by the bushes.

Someone crashed?

I nearly ride past. It has been seven years since I rode around the basin.

Then something catches. Not a thought exactly. Just a ripple on the surface.

I pull over and unclip. Commuters stream past towards the city, heads down, legs spinning, coffee and meetings and ordinary mornings waiting for them.

There is a man curled in the grass beside the river. Barefoot. A beanie pulled low over messy brown hair. Tatty raincoat. Wet through.

I crouch and put a hand on his shoulder.

“You alright mate?”

He stirs and sits up slowly, shivering.

“Hey bro’. Yeah. Fell in the river last night. Still drying out, I guess.”

His voice is rough and hesitant.

“Go sit in the sun, man.”

“Thanks for stopping bro’.”

“We’ve all done it. Fallen, I mean. Needed someone to check in.”

He looks at me then. Properly. Nods once.

I hesitate.

“You gonna be OK?”

“Yeah man. You keep going. I’ll be OK now.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Yeah bro’. I’ll just sit here and chill for a while.”

The young man turns away, towards the first pale shafts of sunlight cutting through the trees.

I clip back in and push off.

The moment comes a kilometre later.

My pedalling slows. Coast. Stop.

Bare feet. Beanie. Brown hair. River. Bike in the bushes.

Then Dan. My friend. Got lost in the system.

Not memory exactly. Recognition.

He used to fish this river because he had nowhere else to go. 

I nearly turn back.

But I don’t.

You don’t go back.

I push off again. The river beside me. Morning opening ahead.

Keep going.