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And There He Sat
Routinely, every morning I see him. Down the chipped brick stairs outside my home, under the dying branches, and over the strong roots of the aged blossom tree, residing in front of my neighbors yard. I walk down two streets, and like habit, stay to the right to avoid Mrs. Mark's and her 2 large golden retrievers and the deafening sounds of their bark. I take a right toward the highway, where the street lights start becoming less and less noticeable. Finally I make a familiar stop up to the ill lite bus stop. A cold, black steel bench, shielded by two tall glass windows, riddled with boring advertisements and odd graffiti. It tends to not draw a large crowd, mostly it’s just me, well, me and him.
An older man, quite a bit older than me, or at least he appears to be. I don't know indefinitely but I’d assume he’s somewhere in his late 60's early 70’s. At the same time everyday he sits to the far left of the bench, and every morning as I walk up to the highway, and make my way towards the lanky glass walls he sees me and stands up. He doesn't smile or give any gesture, he just moves to the outside of the glass sheltered space, where he leans up against one of the glass walls, and continues watching the cars as they go by.
I find myself thinking about him alot. Why does he jump up and move when he sees me? Why does he seem so hostel and quiet? He didn’t seem dangerous, he was of average height, no taller than 6 feet, though I never caught a clear glimpse of his face. I could, only, occasionally, make out something as insignificant as an outline of a nose or chin when a car would beam its light in his direction. Even his clothes were entirely ordinary, baggy blue jeans that stopped right at the start of his black running shoes, and a blue generic, though slightly oversized hoodie he wore everyday.
Today started no differently. I got ready and down the deteriorating brick steps I went, under the tree’s swinging branches, over its rugged roots, down the left side of the streets and up to the highway where he was again. I walked up to the bench and again, as predicted, he jumped up and moved. I sat down and watched the cars for a moment before noticing something. He wore a dark gray baseball cap today, embroidered on the back was the name of an old band my father used to listen to, but before I could have another thought on the matter my attention was swiftly pulled. A slight sound of tapping on the steel barrier above me, after a minute or two got faster. Then one tap became two, then 2, 4, as it got consistently progressive. It was raining. Before long the rain turned to downpour, flooding the gutters and any uneven sidewalk divots around me.
He stood out in the rain as it carelessly ruined his clothes. I stared at him, confused. I thought to myself “Why hasn’t he moved back under the steel shelter?. I've really never been one for confrontation, but alas I couldn’t help thinking “Did I do something? Something to offend or unsettle this man that would now rather stand in the rain than face me?” I had to do something so I took a deep breath, waited for the red car in the distance to go by that I had used as my 3, 2, 1, and shakelly blurted out “Sir do you want to sit down?”
He looked over at me blankly, in a way a mad man would stare at a blank wall, like he was still deciding how he felt about what I said. After a moment of nothing but the comforting white noise of rain drops and rushed cars on wet concrete he finally looked away. I felt the urge to apologize but before I could do anything he looked over, took his hat off and smiled. He shifted back, standing within range of the bench, enough to save him from the severe rainstorm in front of him. "I wasn't sure you noticed. I didn't mean to alarm you" He said in a weak tone.
In shock I replied "Oh, no, I just didn't know if it was something I had done"
"No, no."
He said with no further explanation. I didn't know what to say, I had a million and one questions, but wasn't sure if it was impolite to ask them. So I turned to him and said
"Can I ask you something?"
He, still smiling, and without looking away from the highway nodded his head slightly.
"Why were you standing in the rain?”
He stopped smiling and looked over at me.
"I wasn't sure you noticed"
Baffled by the statement, I just stayed quiet.
He fiddled with his hat before saying "I didn't want to disturb you."
Finally I spoke up and said “Oh, no I wasn’t doing anything”
"I didn't want to be the cause of any discomfort"
"It seems I've been the one causing the discomfort"
He laughed for a moment before going quiet again. I could hear my bus in the distance, so finally as I got my bag and stood up I said, without thinking,
"I like your hat."
He smiled bigger this time and nodded in reply. The bus had pulled up so off I went.
The next day, down the split stairs, over and under the various protruding tree parts, down the quiet sides of the streets and up to the bus stop. And there he sat, staring at the cars as they went by. I sat next to him and asked how he was.
"I'm fine, thank you" he replied before reaching into his bag and handing me something. "Your hat?" I asked in confusion “Not quite" he replied before pulling out and putting on another, identical, baseball cap. "Your hat. You said you liked mine so I thought I'd get you one"
I smiled and managed to ask the million and one questions I had stored away over time and came to the realization that sometimes you need to give people a chance and sometimes all it takes is one kind word.
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