The Bus Stop

I've been driving past their house for approximately two years now. In the mornings, I start my drive and end up in front of it at approximately 7:15 am. They, being John and Bobby. Now, I don't know their real names, nor is it important, I suppose. John is approximately late 40s, maybe even early 50s, and always disheveled. I don't think he works. I base this primarily on the fact that he is always wearing sweatpants and never looks to be in a hurry at 7:15 in the morning... just sort of watching the day go by. He has NOT showered at this point. He wears glasses and has pale skin and gray hair. He doesn't work out. This is accentuated by his t-shirts in the warmer months and his protruding mid-section. Although John may not be employed, he lives quite well. His home is a small, but well kept blue and white country French type home with a beautiful sun porch on the north side. In the colder months, sometimes he and Bobby wait for the bus there. Mostly though, they are always at the end of the street.



Bobby is about ten years old now. He was about eight when I first saw him. He has brown hair and is fairly thin. He always wears a backpack, both arms in. Bobby never talks to John. In fact, they rarely look at each other. Bobby is always looking at the ground. Ninety percent of the time, when I pass, Bobby is kicking rocks or leaves.


Every day, John is drinking coffee. He brings a cup outside with him. Not different cups. The same cup. It's like he went to the Mikasa store and bought 30 white tea cups and saucers. That is what John drinks from every day. He brings the saucer down too. If there were a hailstorm, John would bring that white coffee cup and saucer down there. Three days ago, I saw John wave at the bus driver when Bobby got on the bus. That was the first time I ever saw him do that (in two years).



I'm writing this because, today, John kissed Bobby. I actually almost kind of got choked up a little. I HAVE NEVER MET THESE PEOPLE. But, it's strange because when you watch people from afar for so long, you feel like you know them in an odd way.


I feel like maybe I didn't know John at all. And that maybe I judged him as this sort of strange, odd man at the bus stop every day. But the truth is, most kids probably go to the bus stop alone. When Bobby grows up, maybe he'll have all of these crazy fond memories of he and John standing at the end of the driveway talking about nothing, kicking rocks... for years and years.


Or he could just go the other way and become a serial killer using teacups as his murder weapon.