position. “What, happens now? What do I do?”
The old man looked at him and smiled. It was a warm encouraging smile. “You follow me.”
The old man spoke with a thick accent that Peter thought might have been German. He pronounced “follow” as “vollow.” “What? Yes, follow. I get it. Where?”
“Like wit your wife, think ov following me.”
“Yes, okay.”
Peter stood at the summit looking in awe at the vista in front of him, the lights of the Gold Coast to the north, coastal villages including his home to the east, and the sweep of the Cape Byron lighthouse coming from the south. He knew where he was now, having used this very summit as a marker point when he went out to sea. He turned looking for the old man and was surprised to see a number of others, all of them old. He saw about twelve of them, some together in small groups, others sitting peacefully on their own – and the general feeling was exactly that – peaceful. He saw the old man, the one with the beard, further up the slope sitting on a rock, picking his teeth with a piece of grass. As Peter passed some of the others gave him a smile, some a nod of acknowledgment. The overall aura of peacefulness was affirmed. He approached and the old man looked up, and also nodded.
“I’m Peter.”
“Albert. You sit down now.”
Seeing no other rocks nearby, Peter remained standing instead. “All these guys. They, you know, dead? And you too?”
Albert looked at him, and Peter saw a fleeting glimpse of sadness before the smile returned. He nodded again. Peter saw another man, much younger than the others, more his own age, standing a bit further down the slope. This man waved at him as well as smiled. Peter walked toward him hearing Albert’s voice as he set off, but not understanding him through his heavy accent. “Be careful, be very careful.”
“Hi Peter,” the new man said as he approached. “Welcome. The old farts up there don’t talk much. Lucky I saw you or they’d have bored you to death within an hour,” and he laughed at his own joke.
“You, everybody here has died?” Peter ignored the joke.
“Yep. You got it. Ask me anything man, anything. You must have a thousand questions going ‘round in your head?”
“How, what happened? I saw my wife. The old guy, Albert, said I just had to think..”
“Yes, that’s right. But don’t listen to them. What you gonna do about her?”
“Who? Lynn? What d’ya mean?”
The man’s smile seemed a permanent fixture, and Peter thought that maybe he wasn’t as sincere as he first appeared, but at least he was talking with him. “I mean, what are you gonna do about it? You seen her man, fucking that other guy, and you not even in the ground yet!”
Peter’s shoulders slumped. He didn’t need reminding. “But it was my fault. I know that. Always leaving her alone. No wonder!”
“Fucking crap man. You were married. Did you ever cheat on her man? Bet ya didn’t, in fact, I know ya didn’t, did you?”
“No. But then I was doing what I wanted to do. And I was so happy when I went home and saw her, you know. But she didn’t like fishing.”
“That’s right, she didn’t like fishing. What else didn’t she like Peter? I bet, before tonight you thought that you’d been the only man she’d ever had, right? And she was the only woman you ever had, true? So what d’ya think now man?”
“Nothing. It hurts. And now there’s nothing I can do about it.”
Smiley mans smile broadened even more. “Yeah, I bet it hurts Peter.” He put his arm around Peter’s shoulder and spoke confidentially into his ear. “But you can do something about it.”
Peter looked up him, eyes wide in surprise. “What? Tell me? What can I do from here?”
“You can go back and fix her man,” his smile so wide it seemed to spill off the side of his face.
“No, I don’t want to see her, see that again.”
“What, and let her get away with it? No way man, you gotta strike. Strike while the irons hot you hear me?”
“What d’ya mean?”
“I mean, you don’t wait until they go cold, until they’ve forgotten about you. You hit ‘em hard as soon as you can, while their grief for you is still uppermost. For the maximum effect you understand!”
“What, haunt them or something? You’re kidding?”
“No, no, haunt them! That’s movie Life crap! I mean hurt the bitch,” the smile turned into a malevolent grin.
“What, hurt her? Lynn? Why? No! No way!”
“So you gonna let the cheatin’ bitch get away with it, eh?”
“Get away with what? That was my fault. My fault I tell you!”
“Crap Peter. Absolute crap! Tell me, do you think that guy has been the only one? Is that what you think? Do you want me to tell you about the others then?”
“No, I don’t believe you. She wouldn’t!”
“Wouldn’t she? Come with me Peter.” Peters lounge room materialised in front of him yet again. Smiley was right behind him but there was no Lynn, and no stranger. He heard voices from the bathroom and found himself at the doorway, looking at his wife and the man sitting on the side of the bath. Lynn had at least readjusted her dress, but the man sat with his hand on her thigh, his other arm around her shoulder. Lynn was still sobbing and holding a tissue to her face. “See what I mean,” smiley mans voice came from behind.
“You barstard, get your hands off her,” Peter yelled, leaping at them, and somewhere in the back of his mind he prepared to land in the creek again. Instead, he passed straight through the man, straight through the bath and the wall, and rolled onto his side lawn outside. He was seething, even through his surprise. He jumped back at the exterior wall, and passed through both the man and Lynn this time, before standing and looking at smiley man who was leaning with his shoulder against the doorframe. “What, how then?” he said frustrated.
Smiley man stood upright, and the smile disappeared. “You wanna get the bitch now, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then you must do what I tell you Peter.”
“No, no I don’t think so anymore. She’s crying, for me!”
“Bullshit Peter. She’s putting on an act for him,” he pointed to the salesman. “You gotta do it now Peter. Or never.”
“Why?”
“Because Peter, it’s all in the timing. It will mean nothing if you don’t do it NOW!”
“I don’t want to. I don’t understand. I wish I could cry. I can’t cry.”
Smiley man softened a little, and his smile returned. “Turn around Peter. Look at her.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Turn around Peter. Do it,” he commanded. Peter turned slowly and obediently lifted his head to see what he no longer wanted to see. The man was now caressing her thigh and Lynn had dropped her head onto his shoulder. “Peter, I’ll give you a little