The Man by the Bus Stop Pt. 1
It’s been a while since I wrote a post at all and that’s all because of work and other things happening in my life. I feel like I’m going through a spiritual battle of the mind at the moment; however, I remain focused on the one who is able to keep my mind intact no matter what’s going on. It’s amazing what a person can do when under the right kind of pressure. That is how a jewel is formed. A rock will only remain a rock if you leave it on the side of the road, but once you apply the right kind of pressure such as that which has high heat intensity like that of a volcanic nature, that rock then transforms into a sparkling Jewel after enduring all that heat and fire pressure. That is the refining fire we all experience in life and some people turn into jewels while others just become chaff that blows in the wind. Not many people want to go through fiery trials to press towards the goal that God sets before us, but the only way to reach the prize is by enduring the trial. This is something I keep learning on a daily basis. It’s a pruning process and it sure isn’t fun, but God always has a greater picture in all of this which always has a signature line called victory.
Today, I’m going to attempt to write a story here for the first time on WPress for you all to read just for fun. It’s a fictional story, but there is a point to it so enjoy Sherline’s story telling time.
The Man by the Bus Stop
Simone had just gone through a terrible fall out with her boyfriend Clive. They had been fighting and bickering over the smallest of things and it just seemed like it was time to call it quits and just breakup. He called it quits first and as stubborn as she was, Simone had wanted to keep this relationship going and knew that this relationship had finally reached the end of its rope. It was a rainy and dreary Saturday evening and the tears in her eyes were being washed away by the rain. She had forgotten her favourite red umbrella at her now ex-boyfriends place and ran to the closest bus shelter waiting for the 9:00 bus to Berkley Street. It was now 8:25pm and she had already missed the 8:20 bus. She had just finished drinking some rounds all by herself at the club located across the street from her ex-boyfriends apartment and was still not in a very good mood. Her mind was feeling numb and cloudy from all the crying she had drowned herself in while drinking several glasses of rum and coke and now felt sick in the stomach maybe from all the drinking she had done earlier during the course of this pathetic night.
How could Clive end this? She muttered to herself, as she ran towards the bus shelter trying to escape the torrential downpour that mirrored her own feelings while at the same time trying to ignore the pain she was feeling within her chest. The unavoidable crackles of a broken heart sounded like the icy sounds made from the breaking of glass. She almost found it too difficult to breathe as her eyes kept welling droplets of anguish that now helped to maintain her regrets. She decided within herself that this was the last time she was ever going to be in a dead end relationship. Sometimes her stubbornness got in the way of rationalizing when something was not working out. She wiped her sobbing tears away as she headed towards the bus shelter still feeling queasy. She desperately needed to sit down.
When she arrived at the shelter, she assumed that she would be alone, but instead she saw a man wearing a full on tuxedo which looked like it was made by Armani sitting on the bench inside the bus shelter waiting for a bus. His appearance caught her by surprise as she noticed how his hair was remarkably shiny and long, a dark forest brown color with bronze skin. He wore a gold and diamond crusted wrist watch with silk looking gloves and black shiny shoes that completed the outfit. Simone could not help but stare for a long time at this gorgeous looking man. His face shone like the sun despite the bleak weather outside. It was clear to her that he looked wealthy, but why was he sitting here in the bus shelter? She wondered. He sat in a hunched position staring at the ground as he peered into his own reflection in the puddles forming around his feet.
She had just had a completely terrible day and seeing him seated there on the bench was the calm in her storm. To Simone, the guy looked like he stepped down from heaven and landed here on earth at the right time. It truly felt like something you would read in a romance novel or something you would watch in a tasteful drama. The aura around him felt warm and almost supernatural that she could not quite describe it in words. Mysterious – is all she could think of as a word to describe this stranger that sat there gazing into his own reflection. She could tell by just looking at him that he was totally out of her league, but there was just something intrinsically fascinating about him.
He was hunched over in deep contemplation. She could only see glimpses of the side of his face since some of his hair drooped forward obviously wet from the rain. Simone wanted to speak to him so badly, but was not sure she could even muster a word. I should stop chickening out and just do this! She thought, as she observed his frame from head to toe while he remained still and unmoving. Simone did not know how long she had been staring at him. It seemed like she had stared at him for hours, but it had only been less than a minute. As she inched over to sit on the bench to wait for the bus completely drenched from the autumn rain, the beautiful looking man began to straighten up and sit upright as he sighed ever so quietly to himself looking forwards viewing the rain before he turned to look directly at Simone who was now seated on the far corner of the bench trying really hard to avoid staring at him any further like a crazy fan.
I must totally be freaking him out! He must think I’m some stalker girl or something… were the thoughts Simone had ringing in her head as she quickly turned her head away from his intense gaze to act like she had not been staring at him all that time. She tried hard to transfix her eyes towards the autumn shower pouring outside the bus shelter, attempting to stretch her head in an obvious motion peering out to see if the bus was coming in their direction in the blurry distance anytime soon. She peeked outside hoping in her heart that the guy on the bench had not noticed her rude habit of staring at things she finds interesting.
Oh my God…he’s soo staring at me….he must be thinking I’m some kind of a freak! Calm down Simone… calm down…breathe in… breath out… breathe in… breath out…and don’t act soo obvious woman!
In her heart, Simone was blushing with embarrassment. She was so uncomfortable with the way the guy next to her was scanning her. She tried to act cool and act like his existence did not matter to her, but the more she tried to distract herself from noticing him, the more she fidgeted in her seat.
“Simone,” the man said with the most gentle voice she had ever heard.
“Simone…” he repeated her name again.
Oh please say my name again…it sounds so nice to hear it coming from you… she thought, while giggling in her head as she started to trail off into fantasy land.
“Simone.” the man repeated yet again with a gentle but firm voice this time that rang like an alarm bell in her head to motion her back into reality and to alert her to stop daydreaming away which was yet another bad habit of hers.
“Yes!” Simone answered back abruptly while trying to gather her faculties together still feeling intoxicated and at time feeling extremely excited to find that this guy was finally talking to her. She felt awkward at that moment and a little embarrassed at how drunk she was for one thing, and for also neglecting to respond to him calling out her name earlier. She could feel her face starting to heat up.Was it the alcohol?? She hoped that he could not see her blushing face in this poor excuse they call dim lighting. A part of her wanted to crawl in a small hole somewhere and die. She was just so ashamed at how she was reacting to this guys presence.
Oh this is sooo embarrassing Simone. Look at what you’ve done girl You know that you should wake up and pay attention when someone as hot as he is is talking to you!!! Hey wait a minute…how does he know my name??? is what she thought as she just began to realize that this information was not something he could possible know. She turned to gaze at his appearance scrutinizing this stranger that knew her name, but how?????
She was just about to ask him how he knew her name when she noticed the tear-stained cheeks that glistened in the dim lighting on that beautiful face that now surveyed her. He had clear fiery-hazel looking eyes that in a way looked like the color you would see on a lion. His face was clean shaven and young that you could almost mistake him to be a teenager, but with the intensity of his eyes, she could tell that he was in his early thirties because of the wisdom she could discern was hidden behind his eyes. Simone was pretty good at predicting a persons age since she worked in the fraud department at the local Precent downtown as an administrative clerk. So many people try to get away with lying about their age as they fill out forms that she hands out during investigations that she now had a knack at distinguishing how old a person really was. It was a strange gift she had since she was a child so she knew for sure by the looks of this man, he was definitely in his thirties even though he looked like a teenager. He had on an amazing fragrance of cologne lingering in the air that intoxicated her senses, but Simone was not sure if that was just the alcohol kicking in that was making her feel kind of high. He was average height and muscular in build so it was clear to her that he exercised on a regular basis. She could not help but notice too many details about the guy that she almost ignored that the man had left evidence on his face that he had been weeping. It looked like he had been crying for a very long time too because his radiantly featured face was masked with a hard to conceal type of pain that seemed so unbearable to ignore and yet he continued to search Simone’s eyes for her full attention.
Simone did not understand why she did what she did next, but she decided to move from her initial position from the far edge of the bench to now sit closer to this stranger in order to offer him some tissues that she had in her purse to wipe away those agonizing tears that were staining his radiant appearance. This was the first time for Simone to see a man cry before her. The only time she had ever seen a man cry was in the movies and even then those tears she had seen in so many movies seemed so fake and contrived that she was convinced that real men never cry; well, at least her ex-boyfriend did not bat an eye-lid as he broke up with her. The memory of her recent break up started to fuel her mind with rage, but she quickly brushed the thought aside as she decided to ignore her anger and attend to this stranger who knew her name.
“Are you ok??’ she asked, as she searched in her lulu lemon bag for a Kleenex tissue pack to hand to him hoping he would use it to wipe away his tears. It was strange…Simone felt no fear sitting next to this complete stranger, let alone a man at that…There was just something about him that made her feel like she was finally at home even though technically, her real home was 25 street lights away.
The crying stranger said,
“You have a beautiful name Simone. Do you know what your name means Simone?” Simone stopped searching for the Kleenex as she was startled by the question.
Why is he asking me this question???
“No, actually I don’t actually know the meaning, but it’s my Grandmothers name that my mother gave me when I was born. Hey…Wait a minute…how do you know my name mister?” she asked, as she glanced at his face expecting an answer only to find him draw a faint smile on his face as he looked at her. Simone somehow knew he would not answer that question as he remained silent so she returned to search the contents of her bag still feeling drunk in the process for the Kleenex that she wanted to offer him. Eventually, Simone had finally found the small pack of Kleenex tissue in her bag and drew out one for him to use. He thankfully grabbed her sweet offer, but made no attempt to use it to wipe away his glistening face. The tears had now crystallized on his cheeks due to the cold air blowing around the shelter and now they seemed to be shining like a trail of glitter stains.
The man in the tuxedo carefully looked at the Kleenex that Simone had offered him as she continued to watch him clasp the neatly-folded tissue in both of his gloved hands, first staring into space before continuing on with the conversation.
Aren’t you going to use the tissue??? is what Simone wondered as she saw no movement from him to wipe the tears off his face.
“It means ‘listener’” he continued on to say, unperturbed and seemingly aware that Simone was too focused on his gloves rather than the words coming out of his mouth.
“If you take the Hebrew meaning of the root name Simon, it means ‘he has heard’. A friend of mine has a similar name to yours and he was a very dear friend of mine, however, he was called Simon, not Simone.” He stopped talking to look back at Simone and said,
“Simone, will you listen to my story?” The man asked her with all earnestness while searching deeply into her eyes with such a piercing gaze that she felt like he could see right through her.
Simone felt unusually uncomfortable with his gaze that even though her heart wanted to run away, she felt a strange comfort in being there with him. She almost felt intoxicated by his gaze but reasoned within herself that she probably was still drunk since she had been drinking a few shots earlier in the evening which could explain why she felt a little flushed.
“Yes, I’ll listen”, was her soft-spoken reply almost forgetting that he asked her a question.
Simone agreed to listen to him not because she felt that she had to or that she had any sense of pity for him, but she decided to do so because she felt an overwhelming curiosity towards this stranger that she wondered why such a man who seemed to look like he had everything at his finger tips, based on the way he was dressed, was now sitting here in this rustic bus shelter with an expression so painful that it felt worse than her ailing broken heart. To Simone, it felt like she was witnessing a shattered soul. Simone felt a strange wave of empathy towards this stranger that made her want to help him to stop feeling so wounded and yet she knew in her heart that she truly did not know how to go about it neither was she in the right condition to do so. She was a little too tipsy and giggly at the same time.
Heck, She was no Dr. Phil….and yet she still desired to embrace him and comfort him. However, because she had no idea who he was, Simone felt very self-conscious and a little cautious around this stranger that even in her timidity, she resigned herself to be the listening ear that he wanted and had determined within herself that she was willing to hear whatever he had to say since that was enough for him, or so she thought. As he watched her eying him in anticipation to hear his story, he momentarily hesitated as if he were deciding whether or not she was the right candidate to share his personal tale. She was not sure if his scrutinizing eyes would disqualify her but he then took another deep breath, accepting Simone’s full attention and began to narrate his story.
Story to be continued in pt. 2…..