The Traveller

If, on a winters night, a traveller had come to me and asked, I would of course have agreed. But he
didnt ask and the rest is history.
His son Sydney was astonished. You have no compassion for this man. You show nothing; no
remorse or guilt about your actions, or lack of them in this case. Sydney was very disappointed in
his father. In Namibia food, water and civilisation was scarce. The man had stumbled across the
fathers ranch in the middle of the night, quite clearly malnourished and having survived with no
water for at least a couple of days. Sydneys father, Victor, though was tired, already in bed and halfasleep when the man came upon their home. Sydney was partially disabled and had difficulty
walking so Victor was the only person in the ranch able to help the man. But Victor left the man and
said to Sydney, Leave him, hell survive, well give him something tomorrow. Sydney protested but
to no avail.
In the early morning the next day Sydney had found the body when driving to the well for the days
supply of water. He came back and spoken to his father about the situation. Victor was a tall and
fairly wide man with a large, messy moustache and long dark hair that came down to his shoulders.
He had an arrogant face and intrusive black eyes. Sydney was a short, haggard figure with bad
posture and skinhead hair. Nearly always sat, a lot of the time in his wheelchair, did not help
improve his slumped figure.
Im sorry, said Victor, Im sorry. It was a mistake Sydney continued to berate his father,
continually insulting him and telling him what a horrific thing it was that that he had done. Finally
Victor burst out Its all very well you saying that while youre doing nothing in your wheelchair. All
very fricking convenient. Youre always attacking my actions but you never do anything yourself!
Bloody laziness thats all it is. If you had wanted to go and help him last night you could have done.
Sydney thought about his relationship with his father as they drove out to collect the body. It had
never been good since his mother died. Just the two of them in the house seemed very lonely and
isolated and they always seemed to argue. As they arrived they both realised the severe
consequences of their lack of action the night before. The body was unrecognizable as a man, with
only a few small pieces of flesh left on him. Hyenas said Sydney. Victor nodded his head.
Victor died a few years after that day, and Sydney moved on with his life, selling the ranch and
moving to the densely populated capital Windhoek. He went on to become a very successful
investor, with a leading role in the Bank of Namibia. But Sydney never forgot that terrible day and
always remembered to treat others as he liked to be treated.

Peter Sacks