Road to Redemption - Michelle Dalton Page 0,17
lost.” His father’s words squeezed his heart.
Ray reciprocated the action, his strong arms curling around his father’s portly form. “I missed you, Pa. I’m so sorr—”
His pa pulled away, still gripping Ray’s shoulders in his strong, age-spotted hands. “You’ve already apologised. I accept. Now, let’s sit down and catch up.”
Ray swallowed the ocean of emotions threatening to bring him to tears. This was so like pa.
“Shall I get us some tea? The coffee’s not what you’d like. Lunch will be served in a bit,” Raymond offered.
“Sounds good, my boy.”
Ray kept stealing glances at his father. It was surreal to see the old man, healthy and strong. He’d only seen him once after the attack which Ray was responsible for, and that had been at his sentencing months earlier. After everything he’d done to his family… who’d have thought he’d come to visit. It was a miracle. But what could he say to this man he owed so much to?
The pair sat at the table, cupping their mugs.
“How are you coping?” His pa folded his arms on the table top.
“I was doing fine until Mi …” Ray paused when pa held up his hand.
“Shh, not now. We’ll go for a walk after we’ve eaten.” pa winked.
A bell chimed announcing visitors and inmates could make their way up to the serving area. Ray led his pa to the buffet. A spread put out to entertain their guests and one worthy of more sophistication than inmates entertaining family.
A tall scrawny man, with silver stubble and ratty strands of equally grey hair walked up behind where the pair stood in line awaiting their turn to dish up.
“This your pa?” Cyril held out a hand. “Pleased to meet you, Oom.”
His pa gripped the man’s hand. “And you.”
“Have a lekka lunch.” The man gripped his plate and walked off.
“Some colourful characters around here.” Pa smiled when a second inmate proffered them a toothless smile.
“Ray’s old man, huh?” the man asked, then leaning forward, saying, “This where you get the brains? He’s the only one of us who understands the larny business of this farm.” The inmate threw a thumb over his shoulder, indicating to Ray.
Ray shook his head as they returned to their tables with their food and cutlery.
“So, it seems you’re doing well.” Derek sat, then gripped his son’s hand in his. “Shall we pray?”
Ray nodded and bowed his head as his father rambled his Afrikaans prayer of thanks off. The words were not new, but their meaning was refreshed. Ray quickly wiped away the single tear trekking down his cheek.
“I quite like the setup. It’s the first time in a long while that I’ve found anything interesting,” Ray said before shovelling a filled fork into his mouth.
Pa smiled broadly. “Good to hear, my boy. Good to hear.”
They continued eating their bobotie and chatted about everyday stuff.
“Ja, these abalones, they’re a pricey, sought-after food, but I never knew how important they were to the local ocean’s ecosystem. I guess all the animals are,” Ray continued to speak. He’d not felt so buoyant in years, and the fact that his pa was smiling and listening to him exceeded all his expectations for the day.
“She has quite the venture going here. I’m proud of you, son. You really seem to be taking your, er, issues in hand.” Derek reached for the tin of soda he’d gotten with lunch, and sipped.
Ray averted his gaze and stared at the food on his plate.
“I won’t let you down ever again, Pa.” Ray reached forward and patted his old man’s hand.
“I know. Oh, before I forget. I brought you a gift.” Derek dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a mid-sized square, brown paper-wrapped object.
“You shouldn’t have.” Ray hesitated when his pa handed it to him.
“Go on, my boy. Make an old man happy.” Derek smiled.
Ray swallowed down his mouthful and took the gift. Fingers shaking and nerves tingling, he removed the tape holding the neatly folded sides.
From the wrapping Ray pulled a book bound in black leather. On its front cover, embossed in gold stood the title, Blake the complete collection. He lifted the book to his nose and inhaled, “I never could resist the smell of a good book.”
No longer capable of swallowing his tears, Ray blinked and looked up. “Thank you.” His hoarse appreciation came out as a whisper.
‘Blake: the complete collection.’
“Thought you’d like it.” Derek nodded proudly then continued to finish his plate of food. “Better to read than allow your thoughts to drift too much.