It was around then that the rumours started. The stories about the man called Jesus. How he and his crew were making their way through the area. Crazy stories. Stories of impossible healings, miracles, people being changed. Kay devoured every word. He cut his manic work hours. The two of us would head out in his mother’s old ute, the one thing no-one had ever dared to sell, the one he always drove. We sat at the back of halls and on the banks of rivers, listening to this bloke. Night after night. Day after day. We’d drive back, elated and buzzing, firing questions and memories at each other, trying to make sense of what was going on, what we were learning. We were seeing God in ways we hadn’t dreamed of. I knew Kay wanted to talk with Jesus. But this man was the antithesis of Kay’s father. He owned nothing save his swag. He ate and drank with outsiders, not the ‘proper’ people. He told wild, funny stories and had a knack for annoying anyone in power, or who had tickets on themselves. He was always surrounded by his very unimpressive friends. I’m sure Kay felt that to engage with Jesus would mean betraying his father in some real way. Even being at these gatherings was a pleasure and pain thing for him. Still, he began to lighten. To shine a little. The weight would lift, and then, the next day, it would return. I had a sense that something was about to break. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. One day, we saw Jesus having a blue with his mates about a bunch of kids who’d wanted to sit near – or on – Jesus. His mates had told them to nick off. We hadn’t seen Jesus like that before. He was livid. He called the kids to his side. “Let the children come to me; don’t stop them; this is the mob that the kingdom of God belongs to. Have you not understood yet? Whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.” Then, one by one he looked each kid in the eye, said a word of blessing, and gave them a cuddle. Not all soppy, just enough to let them know they had a place with him and not to mind his dopey mates. I saw Kay watching this and I could see the tears in his eyes. I could see the little lad who had waited years in the hope his dad might see him this way. We 47
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