Thankfully, it’s not often that you sit in front of someone that you’ve known for over 20 years and have this conversation:
He starts, “Hello my dear old friend, how lovely that you could come.”
I answer, “Hello mate. Sorry it’s been so long. What’s it been… three years?”
“Yep. I was working it out the other day. Three and a bit.”
“God, it just gets away from you sometimes doesn’t, it? We were supposed to have that big dinner, postponed it for one reason or another, and the next thing you know it’s another year later.”
Him, “Nobody’s fault, mate. It just happens. You were busy. I was busy. Then I was sick. Nobody to blame. I didn’t tell you because I thought I’d just get better and then we’d finally get to do that dinner.”
Me, “So, what’s the prognosis?”
“I’ll be dead in two weeks.”
“I’ve never done this before and I’m betting you haven’t. Are you terrified?”
Him, “No, I’m ok with it. I sort of had to choose this route. The other had no quality of life. If they did throw everything at the problem, I might be able to make it to a loo 10 metres away instead of five, but still won’t be able to eat and I can’t work… so…”
We then chatted like old times for an hour, and then he said, “Mate, I’m going to fade soon because I’m due for a dose of morphine, so help me up and we’ll say goodbye.”
I got him up, a six foot man who now weighs under 50 kilos, we hugged, and he said, “It’s been great to know you. Make sure you enjoy your retirement when you get there. I hope you and EC have happy lives together. Take care of yourself, big fella. I won’t ever see you again.”
I gulped back the lump in my throat, “It’s been a pleasure and a privilege to be your friend, Mr Z. Goodbye.”
And I walked away. I walked out to the car park, put on my sunglasses, turned the stereo up full blast and gave the car an absolute thrashing all the way back to my side of the city. It wasn’t anger, it wasn’t sadness, it was just wanting to really be there and do it.
Mr Z and I started in cabs on the same day over 20 years ago. We became instant friends, partly because it was unity in adversity over our boss, and partly because we genuinely had a lot in common. We shared a flat and a cab plate in Manly for years. We would watch cricket and he would drink red wine and me beer. He caught a little bit of my left leaning opinions and I caught a little bit of his right leaning opinions. When I became single, he cooked roast dinners on Friday night for months on end and we’d watch telly and play trivia games. When I was ready to face the challenges of girls again and eventually met EC, he was supportive and gracious as I took my leave and moved in with EC over the other side of town. He was at my sister’s wedding at my sister’s invitation.
Mr Z is charming, intelligent, amused and amusing. He was a deeply civilised man with refined tastes, indulgent habits and absolutely no idea how to turn up on time. He used to give me the absolute poops the way he’d leave me waiting places for him to arrive, but it was always worth the wait. For a man who was continually late, it seems so unfair that he should leave early.
