A Boy at a Bus Stop

Sometimes, when I take the 4:15 bus back from Araya, the bus pulls over for a young man and an old woman at a particular bus stop in front of a white school. More accurately, I suppose, the bus pulls over for the old woman only, because the young man never gets on with her. I’ve seen them maybe three or four times.

He holds her arm as she steps into the door way of the bus, and he watches her as she pulls a ticket from the machine and finds a seat inside. He is young, and she is very old. He must be out of high school, or else he would be in school himself at the time, or at least be wearing a uniform, although his face looks like he still could be seventeen. I assume her to be his grandmother.

After he watches her safely seated inside, and the bus pulls away from the stop, he waves to her. They are not shy waves, but big ones, like he wants to ensure she knows that he’s there till the last possible second. She waves demurely back at him with frail hands. His smile could leap off his face at any moment.

Once I saw him lean over and pick up a small dog off the ground in between letting go of his grandmother’s arm and waving goodbye. He held the brown puppy in one arm and gestured happily with the other. I wondered where the two of them lived, and where she was going. I watched to see where she got off the bus, but my stop apparently comes before hers. I assume she rides all the way to the station.

Although I am curious about her, the old woman riding the bus alone, I wonder more about him. Young and good-looking, I’ve never seen more care be taken for the short moments between the passing of one person from standing on the ground to being seated on a bus. He always looks so committed to the moment, to his care of her, and to how much he loves her.

Maybe because this is Japan, and the elderly are treated with more care and concern than they generally are in America, but I would think most young people would be more embarrassed about having to accompany their grandmothers to the bus stop than so plainly showing their joy and enthusiasm.

So every time I see him, I wonder about them, their relationship, and the simple beauty of it. I wonder about him, and that although neither of them know I’m watching, they’ve made an impression on me. Just because he smiled widely. Because he cared. It's not the kind of thing you see everyday.