Easy Street

It sure didn't feel like mid October as I walked to the bus stop. Even wearing a T-shirt, I could still feel the sweat on my arms, legs, and forehead. Don't tell me global warming's just a myth; I've lived around here for thirteen of my fifteen years, and it's never been this warm before in the fall.

I'd just finished my piano lesson, and had a good ten minutes to get to the bus stop before my bus came. Usually, it's a mad dash to catch the bus, and most of the time I miss it. You see, things tend to be unnecessarily complicated for me, but I've learned to live with it. Thankfully my teacher ended on time that day.

I got to the bus stop with plenty of time to spare. I stood next to it, beside a large tree, with my backpack so heavy I was surprised I wasn't slowly sinking into the ground. Maybe a minute later, I noticed an old woman sitting on the bus stop's bench signaling me to come over with her index finger. She had tiny golden earrings and wore glasses. Her wrinkled face broadcast her age like a loud speaker, and her hair was grey and looked like thin, curly steel wire. Her skin was dark, but light enough so you couldn't tell whether she was African-American or Hispanic.

I walked up to her and saw she was holding a bus ticket in her other hand. She didn't say anything; she just waved it until, very hesitantly, I took it. After I did, she turned and began watching the cars pass by on the street in front of us. I stood right next to her for a few seconds, flabbergasted at the randomness of her generosity.

"Thank you," I said softly, finding my voice at last, and then I returned to my spot beside the tree. I still had a few minutes to kill, so I called up my friend, Spencer.

Spencer is a funny kid, but also pretty smart. We debate a lot of things, like religion, for example. He's a staunch atheist, and I mirror him in that I don't really know if I believe in God. However, I do believe that everything happens for a reason, which I guess means I believe in something like God.

When the bus came, I bid him farewell and hung up. The old woman and another, younger woman got on. I followed, showed the driver my ticket, and sat down. The old woman who had given me her ticket sat a few seats away from me.

I rode the bus for ten minutes until it reached my stop. The driver pulled over to the curb, but when I tried to exit the bus this guy who was getting on accidentally blocked my way. The driver almost drove off with me still in the bus, but I managed to get him to stop before he got more than a few feet away. I told you nothing ever goes smoothly for me.

After a short walk, I was home. I knocked on the door because our doorbell was broken, and my older brother, Stephen, let me in. I stepped inside and walked into the kitchen to get a drink.

From his office on the second floor, I heard my dad yelling at his computer. He works at home, which one would think is less stressful than working in the city, but for the fact that there's no technical support to help you out when things go haywire, which they tend to do quite frequently in my house. I think the unnecessary complication thing is genetic.

A couple hours later, my brother drove me into the city, where I met my friends. We didn't do anything special; just walked around aimlessly and talked up a storm. After an hour, I called my mom to ask if she could pick me up. But, of course, nothing in my life is ever easy.

"I'm at the grocery store right now, sorry," she said.

"Can Stephen pick me up?" I asked.

"No, he's out with Stacy." Stacy's his girlfriend. "He took dad's car, so dad can't pick you up either. Can you take the bus?"

"Yeah. Bye, mom."

"Bye." She hung up, and I took the last dollar and a quarter out of my wallet as I walked to the bus stop. The sun was setting, and it was beginning to cool off. The bus came a few minutes after I reached the stop, and I paid the fare and sat down near the front. I was really glad that the old woman with hair like steel wire had given me her bus ticket. If she hadn't, I wouldn't have had enough money to pay the $1.25 fare. I'd have been stuck in the city for another hour.

The bus rolled away, and I looked out my window at the passing cars. After a few minutes, I saw flashing lights up ahead, and as we went by, I saw that they were from an ambulance. It was parked behind a blue Ford that had driven into a streetlamp. The lamp didn't appear to be damaged, but the car was completely wrecked. I wondered what the driver was thinking when he decided to take a right turn into a solid object.

I arrived at my house shortly thereafter. I had my key this time, so I let myself in. The first floor was dark, but there was a light on in my dad's office. I went upstairs to say hi, but turned around when I heard him loudly curse at his computer. My dad's situation had obviously not improved during my absence.

As I walked back downstairs, I heard a loud thump and wondered if my dad had smashed his computer on the floor in anger, so I went back upstairs to check. I walked down the hallway and into his office. When I stepped into the room, my heart nearly stopped. My dad lay on the floor, motionless. I ran over to him and saw that he was unconscious. I had no idea what I should do, but calling 911 seemed like the best option. I picked up the phone on his desk and dialed.

I was crazy with worry as they rushed him to the ambulance. Looking back, though, I find it just a little bit humorous that he was wearing only his blue bathrobe, which fell open as the paramedics loaded him onto the stretcher. Later, they told me that they got there just in time. My dad had suffered a severe heart attack; another minute or two and he wouldn't have made it.

Nowadays, I constantly find myself thinking about the woman with the steel-wire hair, and what would have happened if she hadn't been at the bus stop that day. That bus ticket she gave me saved my dad's life. It's strange: my life has always been pointlessly problematic, like going down a street with uneven pavement or encountering an unanticipated "no right turn" sign. Yet, when it counted, the road couldn't have been smoother.

I guess everything does happen for a reason.