乘客

FF received a call when we were on our way home from dinner tonight. From the animated tone of his voice, I could tell that the party on the other line, whom I only knew then as Terry, was a dear friend of his. It didn't take longer than 30 seconds for the call to turn into the same ones I've heard the past two weeks-the goodbye call. The call from a friend to announce the eventual return to their homes. The inescapable departure from his life and his inevitable sadness. FF says he has been here long enough to see friends coming and going. Indeed, in the course of two weeks that we've been together, this is the third goodbye-call he has received. Amd each time, he would shake his head and let out a deep sigh. "你看,这就是我的人生.一个个好朋友就这样离开了..."

Terry's flight home to Shenzhen is bound at 7am tomorrow. Instantly pushing aside the pile of work and assignment that is due tomorrow, FF urged his friend to have a drink.

Terry is one the first people FF befriended when he first arrived in Melbourne. At the ripe age of 17, they attended language school and then high school together. Yet, their contacts with each other ceased as they went on to university. Soon, meeting each other was an annual affair, one that FF regreted so much.

We stood waiting for Terry at the corner of Lt. Bourke Street. I was looking out intently for a stranger, a person who i only know was tall and big. We waited in silence for more than 10 minutes, like siblings waiting to be reunited with their long lost family. "他再不来,我就要哭了呢..." FF muttered, his voice soaked in worry and impatience.

Terry appeared at last. Tall and big as described. Indeed, as if being reunited with his long lost brother, FF burst into tears, his words stumbling over his sobs. "你为什么又要回去啦...?" Clumsy words, falling over fresh flow of tears. Then he turns and introduces me. "至少他临走前可以见一见你, 这样也算了我的心愿", he said before.

We ducked into a bar and I watched and listened to their stories, as they gulp 3 shots of whiskey. FF still could not control his tears, especially when they started to reminisce about their high school days.

I excused myself to meet up with Jess and the rest, leaving them to procede to their man-to-man talk. But as I left the bar, the eulogy I had a month ago, when I thought that FF had left, came back.

Sometimes I think life is a bus ride. We sit and watch as passengers hop and off. Some passengers stay longer than others, while some get off after one stop. it does not matter how long their journey takes. What matters is that you've brought them to the destination they were meant to reach, within the allocared time. And my dear, I think that you did so with heartfelt earnestness and sincerity that is hardly ever found anymore.