December 23, 2011
It is very cold outside. I’m sure it’s not below thirty-seven degrees but it’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything below fifty. I didn’t check the bus schedule before I left so it is difficult to judge my wait time. There is someone already at the stop, which is usually a good sign that there will be a bus rolling around soon.
The person at the stop has their jacket hood jammed so far on their head I couldn’t discern race or gender. I haven’t been standing here long and the hood turns to me, “You know when the next one’s comin’ along?” A man in his late forties slurs to me. It’s always more difficult to tell in the winter time whether someone is homeless or not for we all look like we’re carrying everything we own underneath big jackets.
“No.” I said.
“I got off the other one and missed this one,” he pauses and takes a breath, “and another passed by the other way.”
“Maybe that means we don’t have long to wait.” I don’t know what to say. I don’t wan to encourage more talk between us. I’m so cold.
I see the bus come around the bend and I step up to the curb and say with muted excitement, “The bus is here!”
“Oh there is another world!”
I don’t know what he means by that. I tried to figure it out by listening to him longer.
“I was in Indiana for about…” he stretched out the word about as though he was doing tricky math calculating the years, decades? that he was in Indiana for, “three minutes.” He laughed and his speckled black and grey, prickly beard rose up with his smile. His teeth were pretty straight with an antique patina color. “I’ve got to get my phone turned on so I can hear the news.” He looks at the ground and sighs, “I almost don’t want to turn it on.”
“So get a new phone number and start over.” I laugh nervously at my own suggestion. He looks very serious now.
“I’ve gotta know what she’s having. Even though I already know it’s a girl.” He puts his right hand over his heart. “I know it’s a girl, but I’ve gotta know.”
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