Old Friends

The autumn sun was low, casting long shadows across the path as Emily walked in the park on her way home. It had been a big day at school, and after a snack at her friend's house, the ten year old was looking forward to a quiet evening in front of the fire with her dad. And it was pizza night!

Sitting on a bench up ahead with his head bowed over his chest was a man, bundled up in a thick dark coat with a beanie pulled low over his head. An open book lay on the ground at his feet, its pages flicking back and forth in the light breeze. The man was asleep. Emily went up to him and, with her school books tucked under her arm, leaned down to pick up the book: The Call of the Wild by Jack London. It was old with a thick cover, like the ones that Emily remembered in her mother's collection when she was a little girl.

"Here's your book Mister." Emily said shyly, laying it down on the bench beside the man.

"Humph?"

The man snapped awake in an instant, staring first at Emily and then at the book. His eyes were grey, like the curls of hair that peaked out from under his hat and the stubble that made his chin look prickly. Lines formed under his eyes as he looked at her curiously.

"Oh. Thank you."

"Why are you sitting alone?"

"Well," the man coughed but his tone was still a little rumbly. "I guess because no one is sitting with me."

Emily stood right in front of him now. Her innocent face reminded him of that of an angel's.

"Sometimes I sit alone when I'm sad," she said.

The man smiled kindly. "Well the truth is, I just like to read on my own. But I am grateful for good company every now and again. Are you alone out here?"

"My house is just on the other side of the park." Emily pointed further down the path through the trees. "I always come this way to school. My best friend Charlotte lives on that side of the park," she pointed the way she had come.

"That's good," the man said. "You need to have friends close by."

"What's your name, Mister?"

"Call me Cyrus." The man held out his hand. "What might yours be?"

"Emily Fraser. Nice to meet you, Mr Cyrus." They shook hands and Emily sat down slowly next to Cyrus, the book between them.

"Just one thing," Cyrus started off. "Let's drop the 'mister', ok? Just puts a wall between us in my mind. Don't you think?"

"Ok...Cyrus."

"There. Won't your mama be waiting for you?" he inquired.

Emily shook her head, her eyes lowered on the grass. "Mummy isn't living with us anymore, it's just me and dad. I don't mind so much; it was a long time ago."

Cyrus laid a hand on her shoulder; he could tell that she cared very much despite what she said. "I'm sorry Emily."

"What about you? Where do you live?"

"Oh, I move around a bit, but always come back to this spot."

"Why?"

"Why? Because I met an old Friend here, and when I come here I feel closer to Him."

"He must be a special old friend," Emily said.

"Oh, He is." Cyrus smiled and gently stroked her golden-brown hair. "And He's always doing something for me. He gave me this warm coat, and all I had to do was ask for it. He makes sure I get to eat everyday and is always nearby when I need Him. And He gave me this book because He knew it was my favourite."

Cyrus picked up the book and tucked it into one of the pockets in his coat.

"I bet you could hold lots of things in there," Emily said, giggling.

"There's enough room for a journal and a pen."

"What do you write about?"

"This and that, what I see around me mostly."

"Cyrus," Emily asked after a minute of deep thought. The sun was almost gone now and the park was empty except for the man and the little girl. "Do you think your friend would be nearby if I ever needed him? I mean if my dad wasn't there and I was scared, would he come?"

Cyrus fought a sudden tear that rushed to his eyes. "He is above us all and sees us all. You only have to ask Him, Emily, and He'll be right there. But I reckon your dad will be worried about you if you don't start on your way now."

Emily stood up, shifting her school books to her other arm and tossing some long hair over her shoulder with a swift swing of her head.

"You said you always come back here. Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Let's see."

"I'm glad I met you, Cyrus. You're a special friend too."

He squeezed her hand before letting it go for good. "I'm glad to hear you say that, Emily. I don't hear those words too often."

Emily smiled and turned to walk on home. Cyrus watched her, his melted heart singing and overflowing with a happiness that he hadn't felt in a long time--a happiness brought by a child. Suddenly, after only a few feet had fallen between them, Emily slowly turned, then came back to the bench seat.

"Did you forget something Emily?"

"I did," she began, sounding just a little embarrassed. "I want you to come home with me and meet my dad. He's bringing pizza home tonight, and I really want you to eat with us. Please say you'll come?"

Cyrus laughed as her tone built up into an earnestness that he hadn't expected. He got to his feet and laid both hands on her shoulders, looking down into her pleading face.

"That's very generous of you to invite me Emily, but I don't know. Are you sure your father would appreciate you bringing in a stranger all by yourself?"

"I once brought in a puppy and he wasn't that mad."

Cyrus laughed even harder, a loud and rumbly laugh that made Emily feel good. He took off his beanie and popped it over her head because of the growing chill, rubbing his hand through his thick grey hair that reached down around his ears.

"I guess there isn't too much point in arguing with you, seen as how you don't have time for that. I'll just have to hope your father treats me as well as your puppy!"

"You mean you'll come?"

"Emily. I would be honoured to be your guest."

"Yay!" Emily hugged him tightly, and they walked down the path together just as the first park lamps were coming on to light their way.

It's fair to say that Mr Fraser was surprised and not too overjoyed to see his daughter come home late from school followed by an old man. In fact he had been growing quite worried about her and wasn't far from leaving the house to look for her. But within only a few minutes, he knew everything about Cyrus that Emily did, and gathering his situation, welcomed him in to join their pizza party.

Emily saw Cyrus many times that autumn, finding him most days after school, sitting on that old park bench, snoozing or reading, or looking up at the treetops with his journal laid open on his lap. His cough was worsening, but every time Emily mentioned it, he just waved her off and said that he was fine.

He often spoke about his special Friend and all the things He had done for him. He said that if his Friend wasn't there with him, then Cyrus wouldn't be there either. Sometimes Emily didn't understand everything about this Friend, but Cyrus reminded her that He lived in their hearts firstly, and that she was loved so much that their now mutual Friend would listen to her all the time. And day by day Cyrus seemed to find more and more to write about.

One night when it was so cold that it felt like it might start snowing at any moment, Cyrus was lying on the park bench, trying to sleep. He heard steps on the path coming his way, and opened his eyes to see a man about to hurry past. He was hunched over in the cold with only a baseball cap on his head and a shirt on his back. Possibly headed home, possibly home for him that night was the bus stop down the street.

"Hey!" Cyrus called to him, swinging his legs off the bench and getting to his feet. He began pulling out the Jack London novel, the journal and the pen and laid them down on the bench before proceeding to take off his coat. "Looks like you need this."

The man stood with his eyes wide, staring at the toasty looking coat that was held out to him, then at the man standing behind it.

"I can't take your coat, mister. Ain't proper."

"Well I don't know who took your coat, but you can't run around like that for the rest of the night. Besides, I've already decided. Now put it on before you catch a cold."

The younger man slowly took the coat and put it on, immediately feeling its benefits. "Thanks a million, mister. I...thank you!"

He went on his way and Cyrus laid back down on the bench. He could make do with the shirt and thin jumper that he was lucky to have. He tucked the pen in his jean pocket and piled the books on top of each other for a 'pillow' as a coughing spurt interrupted what peace he had had. He struggled to sleep but finally did in the end, a little girl named Emily Fraser sleeping a couple houses away occupying his last thoughts.

The next morning as Emily walked by on her way to school, she noticed a small group of people standing around what she had come to know as 'Cyrus' bench'. Two policemen were standing by, seeming to be waiting for someone to come in another vehicle. Emily ran up, pushing through the crowd until she stood in front of the bench. The people were murmuring and talking, but she didn't hear them. Her school books dropped to the ground at her feet. Before her lay the man she loved the most next to her father, a cloth covering his face and his big coat in the hand of one of the men nearby.

"He gave me his coat out of pure kindness," the man kept repeating in a teary voice. "I didn't even know he was sick."

Emily felt her own tears rolling silently down her cheeks. A big hand patted her shoulder and she looked up to see one of the policemen.

"I understand that you're Emily Fraser?"

She nodded and the other officer stepped forward with two books in his hand.

"These are yours. The man wrote it inside each."

Emily took the books gratefully. "His name was Cyrus. I want to see him."

"Oh honey," a woman said. "I don't know if that's such a good idea..."

"Please." Emily cried, looking at where his face would be.

The officer nodded and lifted up the cloth for a minute. Cyrus' face was set in a kind of peaceful smile, a sign that he had gone to sleep with a happy thought on his mind. Emily turned and pushed back through to the outside of the crowd, running as fast as she could back towards home. She could hear the sound as an ambulance pulled up at the kerb behind her, but she didn't stop running until she was upstairs in her room, stretched out on her bed, sobbing. Her dad had already left for work and she was alone, feeling more lonely than ever because Cyrus was gone.

How could Cyrus die, so suddenly it seemed? Wasn't their Friend supposed to look out for him the way He had done up until now?

Did You really need him up there so soon? Emily wondered.

Finally she dried her tears and sat up, pulling the books towards her, a last gift from Cyrus. Inside The Call of the Wild it read:

To you dear friend, Emily Fraser, I leave this book, my only worldly possession of any value. I hope you read it and love it as much as I do, but more than that I hope it reminds you of all the wonderful times we spent together. You came to me like a shining light when I was in a dark place, and your offering of friendship reminded me of the Friend who knows us all.

I think He will be calling me away soon, but it's ok because He knows best. And I will be thinking of you every minute. You made a great change in my life Emily, you can make a change in other people's lives.

Never forget our truest Friend

Cyrus

Emily sniffed, running her finger over the wonky writing. She opened the journal which also carried her name in the front. It appeared that almost the whole book had been filled in after Cyrus had met her. There were lines of his true admiration for her kindness, selflessness and compassion that he had felt. He wrote of hard and despairing nights, and how for him the sun rose when he saw Emily walking towards him on her way to school, more often than not, stopping to present him with a muffin for breakfast.

Emily knew he wandered around most of the day, doing kind deeds for people and just living his life as it was, because of her, he said. She noticed a theme in the last entries that focused mostly on a new world that Cyrus was living for, a world their Friend was going to be showing him soon.

Emily spent the whole day in her room, thinking about Cyrus and reflecting on all the valuable lessons she had learned through their friendship. Cyrus was telling her what happened to him because she cared enough to pick up his book. And in many ways, that act of kindness had changed Emily as well.