"Damn thing's been expired for three hours now."
I looked over at the old guy standing next to me at the bus stop. Rain was coming down pretty steady, and we were both trying to squeeze under this tiny shelter that barely covered two people. He was holding up what looked like a crumpled bus transfer, squinting at it through these thick glasses.
"The transfer?" I asked.
"Yeah. Thought I could make it in time but--" He shrugged and stuffed the paper back in his coat pocket. "Bus driver's gonna take one look at this and tell me to pay full fare again."
I felt bad for him. The guy had to be pushing seventy, maybe older. His coat was this faded brown thing that'd seen better days, and his shoes were worn down at the heels. The kind of worn that comes from walking everywhere because you don't have much choice.
"Where you headed?"
"Millbrook. About forty minutes north." He adjusted his grip on a small canvas bag. "You?"
"Down in town. Hanging out with friends." I checked my phone. Uber was still six minutes away. "Millbrook's a ways away. That's gonna be a lot on the bus."
He nodded slowly. "Twenty-two dollars. Round trip."
The way he said it, you could tell twenty-two dollars was a lot. I make that sort of money in like an hour at my job, but for him? That was like groceries for a few days.
"Special occasion?" I asked, and then I felt like an idiot. Why would someone his age be taking a trip so far on a rainy Tuesday otherwise?
"My son lives out there." He was silent for a moment. "Haven't seen him in. oh, about four years now."
Four years. God.
"That's a long time."
"Yeah, well. We disagreed. Said some things we shouldn't have." He wiped the lenses of his glasses with a tissue. "His mother passed away last month. I kept waiting for him to call after the funeral but—"
A car splashed a puddle over there and we both stepped back.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"She would always say I was too stubborn. That I should call first, you know? But I just kept waiting for him to-- oh well. Doctor told me yesterday I probably have six months. Maybe less." He looked at the old transfer again. "Figured it was time not to be stupid about it."
"Is that why you're going today?"
"Today, tomorrow, next week, it doesn't matter when. Just matters that I do it before." He gestured around his own form. "Before I can't anymore."
I didn't know what to say to this. This man was waiting out in the rain with an expired bus ticket, making his way to visit his son before he died, and I was complaining to myself about having to wait six minutes for my ride.
"What's his name? Your son."
"Tommy. Well, Tom now I suppose. He's thirty-one." There was this little smile when he said it. "Works for one of those technology companies." Got married two years ago. I wasn't invited but his mother showed me pictures on Facebook."
The rain was getting heavier. I checked my phone again; four minutes.
"You got kids?" he asked.
"No, not yet. I'm only twenty-six."
"Twenty-six. That's when Tommy was born. Seems like yesterday." He shifted his bag to his other hand. "You married?"
"Nah. Dating someone but... it's complicated."
He laughed. "Everything's complicated when you're young. Gets simpler when you get older, but by then you've already messed up all the simple stuff."
Another bus came by but it wasn't the right route. The old guy watched it pass and sighed.
"You think he'll want to see you?" I asked.
"Honestly? Probably not. Last time we talked I called him selfish. Said he cared more about his fancy job than his family." He shook his head. "I was angry about his mother being sick, and I took it out on him. Real smart, right?"
"People say things when they're scared."
"Yeah, but saying sorry's harder than saying the wrong thing in the first place."
My phone buzzed. The Uber was two blocks away.
"Listen," I said, and I don't know where this came from, "my ride's almost here. I could... I mean, if you want, I could give you a lift partway. Maybe to the train station? Might be cheaper than the bus."
He looked surprised. "You don't even know me."
"Yeah, but--" I shrugged. "You seem like you got somewhere important to be."
"I couldn't ask you to do that."
"You're not asking. I'm offering."
A silver Honda pulled up and the driver rolled down his window. "Emma?"
"That's me." I looked back at the old guy. "So? What do you think?"
He stood there for a second, rain dripping off his glasses. "You sure? I don't want to mess up your plans."
"My friends will survive without me for an extra hour."
"Well... if you really don't mind."
I opened the car door. "Come on. Before we both drown out here."
We got in and I told the driver about the change of plans. He wasn't thrilled but he reset the GPS. The old guy, Walter, he told me his name was Walter, sat in the back clutching his bag.
"Thank you," he said. "This is really kind of you."
"Don't mention it."
As we drove through the city, Walter talked about Tommy. How he was always good with computers, even as a kid. How he got a scholarship to college. How proud Walter was, even if he never said it enough.
"I worked construction my whole life," he said. "Couldn't understand all that computer stuff he was into. I used to think it wasn't real work, you know? Just sitting at a desk all day."
"What changed your mind?"
"His mother explained it to me. She said he was building things, just different kinds of things. Digital things. It took me too long to get it."
We pulled up to the train station and I paid the driver. Walter tried to give me money but I wouldn't take it.
"You saved me twenty-two dollars on bus fare," he said as we stood outside the station. "Let me buy you lunch sometime."
"Maybe when you get back," I said. "You can tell me how it went with Tommy."
"If it goes well."
"It will."
He looked at me like he wanted to believe that. "You think so?"
"Yeah. You're his dad. And you're trying. That's gotta count for something."
Walter nodded and headed toward the ticket counter. I watched him go, this old guy with his worn-out coat and his small bag, getting ready to apologize to his son for being human.
I called another Uber and waited. Twenty minutes later I was downtown with my friends, but I kept thinking about Walter. Wondering if Tommy would listen. Wondering if four years of silence could be fixed with one conversation.
My phone rang around eight that night. Unknown number.
"Hello?"
"Emma? This is Walter. From the bus stop."
"Hey! How did it go?"
There was a pause. "He cried. We both cried, actually. I'm staying for dinner tomorrow night. Meeting his wife."
I smiled so hard my face hurt. "That's amazing."
"I wanted to thank you again. For the ride, but also for listening to an old fool ramble about his mistakes."
"You're not a fool, Walter."
"Maybe not. Tommy said the same thing, actually." He was quiet for a second. "I better go. But I meant what I said about lunch. When I get back to the city."
"I'll hold you to that."
>> Images were generated with Meta AI
