Thing got rough suddenly that night. The situation had
become toxic so quickly. She tried to sleep with meditation music played from her phone.
All the unpleasant noise came out from another room that kept her up. She realized that she could not go back to sleep.
She realized that she did not want to stay inside the house. The clock was 12.30 ish midnight.
She came out of her room.
She knew that the weather was dropped freezing outside so she carefully put on a red sweater, a thickest jacket she could find from a closet. She took her fully charged phone with her ID, the bus pass and a credit card and put them inside the pocket.
She made sure to have her messy green hat and
walked out to the rail link station.
She had no idea where to go. Her heart was pounding.
Impulsively, she kept walking
upstairs to the platform up North. The rail link train to SeaTac just took off
right in front of her eye.
She waited for few minutes and hopped on the train that
supposed to ride to Lynwood. There were few passengers on the train since it was almost
1 AM.
She shared the same train
car with a guy masked up in black, sat on his electrical bike, also black. The
sign on the train informed Beacon Hill as the last stop, not to
Lynwood. Understandably, this was a last train of the day.
She did not know what to think as the train moved fast. When it stopped at the Beacon Hill, the security came in with a polite smile, reminding
everyone to get out.
She herself, the bike guy, two other travelers shared the elevator up
to the station.
She never had a stop at Beacon Hill before. The elevator
opened to let four people out.
Emptiness folded into darkness were her first impression. The
coldness came second. She zipped the jacket all the way up to her neck, tucked the green hat inside the hood of a red sweater and then covered
up with the hood of the thick jacket.
She thought for herself. What do you think, huh ? Getting
out of the house this hour. What do you expect, huh?
The bike guy was seen confused and pissed. He murmured,” wtf.
Where should I go?”.
He hopped on his bike, pedaled ahead of her to the left of the station. Not thinking much, she walked after him at same direction.
Quietness and feeling of grief chilled her soul,
flesh and bones. She stopped and looked around when walking to the first
intersection.
A grocery store with bright light from the opposite side drew her attention.
She read from a book suggested that at the most lost and despaired time in life, one must look and walk toward the source of light , eventually everything will be alright. That night she did just exactly that.
She walked across the narrow street, stepped into the big parking lot.
There were few cars parked here and there. She walked toward the store. When she touched at the cold handle, she realized that the doors were locked. She again looked around. On the right side of the store was a parked city bus. She was amazed seeing the
sign of the bus, “terminal”. Not sure the bus was waiting or not, she walked right in front door.
It was dark but she could see the silhouette of driver sitting inside. He pushed
the door opened.
She asked,” Can I come
inside and sit? ” He nodded.
She stepped up inside. Right away she figured out that she was the only one passenger on his bus.
Settling down on the seat near by the driver seat. She felt safe. She felt warm. She felt a need to cry.
She sobbed softly. Her crying was louder than it was supposed
to be. Tears rolled down as she looked through the dark window of the bus.
The driver looked back. He asked gently, “Miss, are you OK?”.
She stayed silent. She looked at the driver. It was too dark to see his face. His voice was soft and tender. She quietly managed not crying at last. He
asked,” what is the problem? “
“I just left home.”
He nodded his head. He said,” I hear you.” “Is it bad?” “Yes,
it is bad.”
“I never be outside this late. This is my first time.”
He said, “Look like you are not a type of people be outside
this time.”
“Do you have friends or family you can call? “
“Yes, but I do
not want my family and friends to know. Talking to a stranger is much easier
right now. Things happens between me and
him. We keep between us. Things are ups and downs. We worked it though
for most of the time.”
The driver asked, "is your man a hot headed? “
I nodded. Then he
shared,” I had an argument with my father few days ago. He left. But he came back. You remind me of my mother. She is strong.”
Both stayed silent for a while then he asked her a
practical question, “What the plan?”
“I have no idea. I thought I could go to downtown and check
in to shelter but the train stopped at Beacon Hill only. What is the last stop
of this bus?”
“Renton. This bus
will not go back to Seattle."
“OK you can drop me at your last stop.”
His voice sounded concerning, “you do not want to be there
at this time. Renton is not the place you want to stay right now.”
She naively responded, “you can drop me off at the stop where has a
lot of lights? I can find a shelter or police to help me out? “Or you can drop
me at the base where you park your bus. I will stay there until the next bus in
the morning to sort things out.”
“We will not be allowed to let you inside the base.”
Then he had to start his last drive with one more passenger
on board. The passenger sat all the way at the back of the bus. Suddenly she felt a little better thinking that she was not an only passenger on the bus at this time.
While the bus was running, sitting silently in the dark was
running her increasingly anxious mood. This route went weaving inside the neighborhood George
Town as she could hear the AI voice from intercom. On the way, the bus picked up
one more passenger. This was a young female, carried few Traders Joe bags on
her shoulder. She looked comfortably and started to check on her phone at once after settling down on her seat. It was 2 AM in the morning.
The bus went around along the houses in black-inked darkness. Her mind
was hollowed out with feeling of lost. She did not know what to think. She was worried
looking out of the window trying to make out where the bus going.
She started to trust the bus driver. She had not seen his face
just yet. His genuine voice and words warmed her heart.
She is a long time bus rider in Seattle. For her, Seattle
bus drivers are always her heroes. She witnessed so many
things that happened on the buses nowadays. A bus driver must be tough to deal with a lot of rough time happening in and out of the bus. A bus driver has to perform a lot of different tasks beside driving. Dropping off and picking up passengers,
making sure to stop at the right bus stops while controlling all activities
that illegally happen on the bus. Driving a car in Seattle already a hard job. Bus driver has to keep people safe while dealing with a lot careless drivers on the streets. She knows this is a stressful and dangerous job as one bus
driver got fatally stabbed last month.
The bus stopped at its last. She was the only
passenger on the bus. The driver looked back to her, patiently asked, “What is your plan?”
“I just get off here and waited for the next one.” He looked at his phone for the schedule and
said, "the next bus will not come to this stop in the next three hours.”
He added, “I cannot let you be here alone. You do not have
to do it alone. This is dangerous out here. This is very cold outside.”.
Then he went on, “I will take you back to the base. I will return the bus and
get my car. I can drive you back to your
place. You can come to my house, and I will drive you back to Seattle in the
morning. You do not have to come in my house . You can stay in my car if you feel safe. I
am not crazy, you know. Or I can find you a hotel.”
She remained quiet for a while. She felt extremely guilty for bothering
the bus driver. This was his last stop. He should have to go home to rest not
here to help with a completely stranger like her.
Finally, she agreed to his plan of finding a hotel. The bus driver turned the bus sign off and
drove back to the base. He told her to wait for him that the stop bus near by
the base. She got off.
She came under the bus shelter. He was right. The night sunk colder
when she sat down on steel -made bench.
She started to cry again. Her head filled with nothingness while her mind attempted to make sense of what
had happened. She pictured herself sitting here until the next bus arrives. She visualized how terrible her condition would be the next morning. No wonder
people self-medicate themselves with drug and alcohol when they are be outdoor
under this freezing cold condition.
The bus driver came back on his car. She could recognize him
with curly hair out of his hat through the darkness. He changed his uniform into a yellow neon vest.
She came inside his white car. She said, "thank you" while sobbing. He
asked if she was OK. She nodded.
The bus driver reached out to compartment
on the passenger side. He handed her a few brown Chipotle napkins. He quicky informed
that there was a room available at the hotel near by that she could stay for the
night. He said he had to pump gas and then drive her to the hotel.
She now had time to look at him. He was a young bus driver. The
short exchanging conversation on the way to the gas station revealed few personal
information about him. He has been driving City bus for more than a year now. “Money
is good”. He said, “People make a lot of money driving City buses. My friends
make fun of me. I graduated from college, but I would like to drive the bus for
a while to save up money to buy the house for rent. Eventually I would like to
move up for managerial job.”
The car stopped at the gas station. He asked if she would need anything. She politely said no. The young guy asked again, “Are you sure? ”
She nodded, " Positive". He came back with a bottle of water for her.
“Just in case.”
Both headed out to the hotel. She did not know what the name of
this hotel was. She trusted the bus driver 100% at that point.
The reception of this
facility was locked. The receptionist inside pointed the guests to the window.
She told the receptionist that she would need a room for tonight. The receptionist asked for ID and informed a price. She did not remember what she said $167 or $176 at that time. She ended up agreeing for whatever the price was.
The bus driver said he would wait until she get into a room to be sure that she was safe.
While waiting the credit card and ID were processed, she looked at the bus driver, "thank you". She asked an important
questions at this point for his name and how could she say thank you to him later. He
wrote name and phone number on the menu flier he quickly grasped from the counter.
He added,
“please call to let me know you are ok later if you want.”
He gave her a hug when he parted.
She got into a room at last at 3 PM ish.
Her heart sunk down to
the bed. She was extremely exhausted.
Her head wrapped around a million things
needed to process tonight.
The body eventually settled on a comfortable bed she just paid God knows how much. The room was cold. She kept the light on the whole time of her stay. Her throat was dried. She thought. " I should had accepted the bottle of
water as he offered.".
She could not sleep until 4 PM, debating if she needed to call off sick
the next morning or not.
She slept on and off until 7 AM with a weird feeling of sleeping
in the hotel room alone for the first time.
She got out the hotel at 8 AM the next day. She returned the
card key and took Uber back to Seattle.
She decided to go to work since Tuesday was always a busy
day of the week. Most importantly, keeping busy was a good thing to avoid drowning herself into isolation
and depression. Seeing, smiling and greeting people at work were therapeutic toward healing after what had happened.
There were unfinished paper works that she had to follow up. Her head hurt pounding from the event last night. Her eyes were swelling with
redness from lack of sleep and obviously from crying. Her heart was
empty yet warmed at the same time.
At her cube, she took out the flier with the bus drive’s name
and cell number. She texted a message to him as followed, “ Hi M. this is me.
I came back home this morning safe and sound. At work now. I would like to say
thank you to your help last night. Seattle is beautiful and ppl here are kind.
You are one of them. I feel better.”
He wrote back few hours later, “Glad to hear from you! I want
to say thank you too for trusting me. You have a wonderful soul, and I know
everything will work out for the best. An honor meeting you last night.”
She managed to hold up tears reading his words. He humbly thanked her for trusting him.
She witnessed something
beautiful few hours ago. She witnessed an absolute kindness of a stranger to another
stranger. Out of the darkness, she had received help from another person in a humble, appropriated,
delicately approach.
His text reminded her a profound concept of human
connection: trust!
Broken trust is what has been an issue at many aspects of her life. When dealing with the unfamiliar and unknown, her attitude turns to defended mode, " it must be a scam or at least transactional ".
This country is nervously heading to
an unknown direction with the new government. She has been feeling the anxiety, anger,
uncertainty and insecurity up in the air in Seattle.
However, after couple hours last night, she was filled her heart up with warmness and kindness. She could at least trust herself that eventually everything will be ok.
This young person
belongs to Gen Z generation, which always has bad rap for many things.
That night experience was proven positive instead: hard working, future-oriented and compassionate. A Gen-
Zer had maturely taught a Gen- Xer an important lesson of trust as he said, “After such a long period time be together, things between a couple
will get rough and I trust that you guys will always work it out.”
Yep. She totally agreed.
