Bus Stop Therapy
written by: P.A. O’Neil
There it is, the sheltered bus stop where you sit waiting for the Number 6 bus to Market Street to pick you up to take you to work. The morning air is crisp, having snowed the night before. Your exhaled breath surrounds you in a movable fog as you walk. There’s no need to run, not this morning, because you read the clock wrong and left your place early. In fact, everything seems off since you received a telephone call last night.
Finally, you get to the stop, glad for the Plexiglas walls to block the wind, as you take your place on one end of the enclosed bench. There’s plenty of room today, only other person there is sitting at the far end. You recognize him, even though he is wearing one of those South American knit caps, the kind with the long ear-flaps and skinny tie strings. He glances your way and smiles while nodding his head. You smile back and say, ‘good morning.”
For a while, it seems it will be just the two of you waiting as the snow begins to fall again. Even though you don’t know his name, you feel comfortable sitting alone with this man—after all, you two have sat at this stop every morning for the past year and a half. The traffic seems unusually quiet for this time of day. You decide to break the silence.
“Snow came a bit early, don’t you think?”
No answer from the man. Well, you did just kind of blurt out that statement. Maybe if you looked at him, he might converse with you.
“I guess most people decided to stay home, taking a snow day, so to speak.”
He nods his head but doesn’t give a reply. Maybe he’s the shy kind you think. You tilt your head and look out at the layer of snow now filling the tire tracks in the road.
“It’s kind of funny, when you think of it, all these adults taking the day off because of the weather, like they were little kids staying home from school.” You chuckle at the thought and when you look at your companion, he too has a soft smile on his face as he slowly nods his head.
“Yeah, people can do some strange things when the weather changes. Take last night—I received a phone call from an old boyfriend.” You backhand a wave before your face as if you were flushing a mosquito. “It was totally unexpected. We didn’t part in good company and it’s been years since I’ve even thought of him, and there he was, just out-of-the-blue on the other end of my telephone.”
You look over at the man, lips pursed, head slowly bobbing up and down.
“You know what he wanted? He wanted to apologize for the way he had treated me. Can you imagine that? He said he wasn’t looking to get back together, just wanted to say, ‘he was sorry and clear his conscience’.”
Your eyes widen, and with a silly grin on your face, you slowly shake your head.
“You know, my sister got a phone call like that once—totally unexpected, from an old beau who had really hurt her feelings when they broke up.” You hear the car passing by on the other side of the street before you see it because of the chains on the tires. Sighing, you add, “He told her much the same thing, you know about wanting to apologize for the way he treated her. She’s married now, not to the guy on the phone, but a real nice fellow who just adores her.” Tilting your head to the side, you lose focus for a moment as you reflect on the previous conversation. “I accepted his apology and wished him well. Maybe it means something good is going to come my way? You know, I think it’s called karma or something like that.”
You wait a moment before turning to the quiet man. When you look at him, he once again has a tight-lipped smile and is still rhythmically nodding his head. He isn’t even looking at you. You turn your body towards him. Your eyebrows are knit, and your mouth is agape, but no sound emerges. Finally, you catch his eye and he stops nodding his head.
He reaches under the flap of his knit hat and removes a wireless earbud. “Are you talking to me?”
Your jaw drops and the cold air shocks your lungs as the bus arrives.
He stands up as the door swings open. “Bet it’s warmer in there than it is out here.”
Numbly, you shake your head and follow him onboard.
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