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Thread: Bus Stop

  1. #1
    Registered User Steven Hunley's Avatar
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    Bus Stop

    Bus Stop
    by
    Steven Hunley


    “Bus stop wet day
    She’‬s there I say
    Please use my umbrella”

    Bus Stop--the Hollies

    Raining. ‬Wet day. ‬Puddles in the gutter with oil-pictures psychedelically dancing, ‬sopping shoes and soaking clothes abound in all directions. ‬Wetness wetness everywhere and no escape is found.

    Actually it had been raining for almost two weeks now. ‬So when Jeffrey walked up carrying an umbrella you might suspect he was one of those ‬kinds that are prepared for anything. ‬His case was just the opposite. ‬He was a procrastinator, ‬a slacker, ‬a putter-offer par ‬excellence. ‬It took two weeks of solid rain to make him realize he might need an umbrella, ‬and truth be told, ‬he was not the type to be ready for much of anything, ‬especially the anything he was to encounter at the bus stop. ‬The form that was sitting on the bench, ‬the woman, ‬was the anything.

    He thought, ‬from the back of her head anyway, ‬“She’‬s a girl.”‬ But no, ‬she was a woman full-grown.
    She happened to him like a song. ‬It was starting to mist. ‬She was sitting, ‬petite and wild-haired, ‬a sketch-pad tucked under her arm. ‬He sat down beside her and she scooted away. ‬That’‬s what good girls do.

    When the mist got serious he opened the umbrella.
    “Here, use some of this.” She scooted back over and ‬he noticed the smell of lavender and fresh-brewed coffee. ‬Enchanting.

    “Are you an artist?”

    “Design student.”

    “Oh.”

    He’‬d got her to talk so now he was getting bold.

    “Let’s see whatcha got."

    She looked up to regard him. ‬He seemed harmless, ‬in fact kind of nice. ‬She liked nice.
    She thought she might shock him for fun. ‬Women can be pretty bold too.

    “OK.”

    They were sketches, ‬charcoal sketches, ‬pretty good charcoal sketches. ‬Nude charcoal sketches. ‬She had drawing down.

    “These are pretty good.”

    He aimed his comment carefully into her chocolate brown eyes that other men would have merely labeled brown. ‬He ‬was taken in completely by her chocolate explosions.

    “The proportions are just right. The lines are bold and show control and a sure hand.”

    He looked at her hands. ‬Delicate but undoubtedly strong. ‬Good. ‬She brightened. ‬Good thing because the sun wasn’‬t out yet. ‬With her ‬the day ‬was shining anyway.

    “Sounds like you know what you’re talking about. Are you an art student too?”

    “Used to be years ago, ‬but now I’‬m a photographer.”

    “Oh.”

    Like I said, ‬she possessed wild dark hair.

    “How do you manage to take care of that hair?”

    “With a brush silly! ‬But I can make it straight too, ‬by using a hair dryer. ‬It’‬s the dampness that makes it curl. ‬Sometimes I hate it.”

    “Don’‬t hate it too much. ‬Women I know would kill for that kind of curl.”

    She smiled and he noted her smile, ‬so now he got bolder yet.“So what does your boyfriend think of you drawing nude men at school? I bet he gets jealous.”

    “Sometimes he ‬gets real jealous!‬”

    Sh*t, ‬she had one alright. ‬Women this good looking always did. ‬It was some kind of natural law, ‬some sort of inevitability. ‬Damn.
    The mist turned to rain and she scooted closer, ‬boyfriend or no boyfriend.

    “It’‬s cold,”‬ he observed, ‬crest-fallen. ‬It was pretty much all he could say.

    “Want a sip of my coffee?”

    He took some and liked it just fine.
    “Yummy. What flavor is this?”

    “It’‬s Columbian Supremo with hazelnut creamer.”

    He got excited.
    “It’s great, it tastes good, it smells good. It’s the best I’ve ever had,” but then while he was on a roll and before he could stop himself he said, “It’s you.”

    Oops!
    He ‬faltered, “‬I mean it’‬s good...and it tastes good...and I meant...”

    “I know what you meant,” said with just a hint of a smile.

    They both saw the bus down the street and got up. ‬It pulled up with a splash and a hiss and a lurch. ‬He motioned her on. ‬It was filled with people and he wanted to sit next to her but the machine wouldn’‬t take his dollar until the third try. ‬By that time he’‬d lost her in a sea of hats and coats and heads. The bus was so stuffed it smelled like wet dog. ‬He finally found a seat.

    After a few stops ‬on major streets enough people filtered off and he saw her in back and she gave him one of those ‬“I recognize ‬you”‬ smiles.

    “She’s comfortable now,” he figured, “on account of me; she’s not wet at all.”

    Her hair looked as wild as ever, ‬maybe more, ‬and somehow made him miss her even though he’‬d never had her. ‬He saw her writing something down on a piece of lined notebook paper, ‬using the sketch pad for support.
    “Probably a note to her stinking boyfriend,” he figured, who by now he hated, if only because she was his. ‬He could hear it tearing as she ripped it free of the spiral notebook and folded it up like a secret.
    She reached up and tugged at the bell to get off.

    He figured, ‬“It’‬s over.”

    Now she walked past him to get to the door. ‬So close that he imagined, ‬though I’‬m sure it was an illusion, ‬he could smell lavender again. ‬She slowed a bit and reached down and stuffed something in his shirt pocket, then stepped down real dainty-like on to the curb. ‬He watched her out the rain-streaked window as she took a few steps away but then turned.
    She held the sketch book up towards the bus. ‬There was something written on it, ‬something all black and bold. ‬When the rain started to hit it bled to the bottom but could still be easily read.

    NO BOYFRIEND” it said all runny-like.

    Smiling now she walked away. He took out the paper and unfolded it. It was short, a simple note really, but it made him catch his breath when he read,

    JENNY-- ‬867-5309.
    Last edited by Steven Hunley; 10-08-2010 at 04:14 PM.

  2. #2
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    Good stuff! Makes me want to sit at a rainy bus stop. I like the way he makes his observations, it's whimsical but believable and compelling.

  3. #3
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    One of your sweet little tales. Enchanting. The kind that gives off a warm glow.

    H

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