More Ancients Still

Yes, remarkable enough, the old guy this afternoon who stepped across to the table of the poets and sages. Guess how old?... Well. Ah…. Had there been afforded proper chance one may have guessed say, mid-eighties. In fact if the informant could be trusted, the man was one hundred and three.... Oh. OK. I see. One hundred and three and not a day less. The fellow could be told of the two meetings up in the village the first time round, a pair of centurions living in their old stone and thatched houses cared for by their kin. Not unfamiliar territory these aged; no big deal. There was old Mr. Vic across the road too…. Ah. I see. Where was that?... Melbourne. Well, there you go.... Chap was from Melbourne himself. Where were you from in Melbourne?... Oh, you are in city? He was from Dandenong himself. Endeavour Hills to be precise, outer-most suburban graveyard. Didn’t want to hear about Mr. Vic and his digging of his storm-water drain across his front lawn at one hundred and one. There was nothing wrong with Endeavour Hills too for an old Chinaman escaping his Singaporean pigeon-hole. Fellow would be there still were it not that his son had called him back to look after the grandchildren. (The wife tasked no doubt, leaving time for his own attendance at the library forecourt for these gatherings of the Hakka group. Doubtful this particular fellow would have anything to contribute to the poets and sages there. You would lay odds.) When the maid returned after an hour for the ancient, the reed-thin, steady and upright old survivor, the man was clasped wordlessly by the arm and promptly rising to his feet. Quiet and obedient. Earlier the man had spoken more than a little and had the audience ringing round listening carefully. A fine old man who would never give any trouble to his charge. His kids, the Sir and Madam, must offer a good position for the girl, decent and respectful, good pay and perhaps the four legislated free days a month. Perchance they might even be providing extra funds for her children’s schooling back in Indo or the Philippines. Such does occur occasionally here. Perhaps the son and daughter-in-law would take their turn with dad on the off-days. Firm hold on the bicep as the maid had been taught while the ancient hoisted himself. As the pair paced back toward the road the precautionary hold had been maintained. The woman only removed her hand briefly to return the old man’s cap right way round. Had the chap sat so long, the entire hour, with that teenage flip of the lid without being noticed? It must have been because of all the memories that had been raised that sent the mind spinning and the inner eye reeling.