Skip to content

Bus Story: Outsider Assistance

October 8, 2013

The rain pelted the waiting riders, while lightning lit the grey sky with light and fear. As the roll of thunder subsides, she tentatively boards the bus, adjusting her now drenched, but still vibrant, forest-green beret. Rail-thin as she is, her purple coat, having seen far better days and many of them, billows about her like a thunderhead of woolen aubergine. Agelessly ancient, her eyes seek out the refuge of a seat, while her mouth moves in a ceaseless monologue. The bus lurches forward but her hand is inches away from a post or a seat-rail, and she teeters on the slick floor. Time slows, like the pouring of molasses, as riders reach, leap, and call out in alarm. His shoes are the first thing I see: shiny, golden sneakers. While the rest of us move as if leaden, in a flash, this young, skinny teen, in a hoodie and jeans, puts a hand on her shoulder, and she safely eases into a seat. Elder eyes seek out her rescuer and she, almost inaudibly, expresses her gratitude. With a smile that belies the usual sullen, detached nature of his appearance and age, he nods and, soon after, departs the bus, his shoes reflecting in the puddles on the sidewalk. Stay gold, Ponyboy, and maybe everything will be okay after all.


From → Bus Stories

Leave a Comment

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: