An Unexpected Friend

There he was, standing alone in front of the 5th Avenue and 27th street bus stop. Right in front of the Riccardo Maggiore Salon. He stood there staring down at his old wrinkly hands. One of them gripping the handle of a metal walker, whose legs were adorned with bright green tennis balls. And the other hand tightly holding on to a tattered black leather bound journal. He could see the blue veins through his withered skin. Both of his hands were covered in dark brown age spots that seemed to multiply each time he looked down. He had wondered many times if these hands were really his own. How could they be? His hands were once strong, broad, and indestructible! And now...Now the hands placed before him were feeble, delicate, and ugly. Surely, these could not be his hands. He stared for what seemed like an eternity before he closed his eyes and slowly shook his head.

"Figures." He thought to himself. "They say only the good die young! I guess after the life I've lived I deserve to be trapped in this decaying body. Hmph...'Ain't no rest for the wicked.' "

The sound of someone yelling brought the old man back to reality.

"Hey buddy! Are you gettin' on the bus or what? I don't have all day for you to decide if you can make it up a couple uh stairs!"

The old man looked up at the blustering bus driver. When his gaze settled upon the man making all the noise, he couldn’t help but grin. The bus driver was a portly man with a double chin and a thick black beard. His head was completely bald and shone almost as bright as a light bulb. The old man chuckled as he imagined the hair falling off the man's head to create the black tangled forest protruding from his chin. He chuckled some more when he saw the driver's belly was squished up against the steering wheel.

The bus driver began to grow more impatient. "Buddy, you eitha gotta get on the bus or get movin' in anotha direction. I got places I gotta be and I ain't gonna sit around while you struggle to get up uh few steps."

"You from Brooklyn fatty? The name's Ed, not buddy."

"What?" The bus driver yelled with a confused look as he sat up a little in his chair to show he was ready for an altercation, if one would persist. " It don't make no difference to you where I come from buddy and I could care less 'bout your name!" With that he reached for the lever that closed the door and drove the bus back into the city traffic.

"Name's not buddy." The old man whispered as he watched the bus head down the road.

He stared blankly ahead at the towering building across the street. He couldn't make out whether it was an office building or an apartment building. He could see that the bottom half had been converted into two different establishments. A Chase bank on the left and a Mexican restaurant on the right. The building was light grey, until his eyes hit the third floor. From the third floor up, the building became a dark chestnut red with rows upon rows of windows.

The man could see people absentmindedly going about their day. He began to wonder if anyone would notice him stepping off the curb into the oncoming traffic.

In a world full of windows, would anyone see him?

Just as he lifted the front of his walker to move forward, he heard a voice behind him.

"I think he was from Brooklyn."

The voice was an unfamiliar one, but it was kind and in it's own way...comforting.

He turned his head to look for the owner of the voice. As he looked around he only saw strangers passing by. He searched for a moment and then felt a small tap on his shoulder. He slowly turned around to see who would invade his personal space with such a such a gentle tap.

He was shocked to see a young woman. Probably in her early twenties. She had long charcoal black hair that danced down and around her shoulders. Her eyes were almost as dark as her hair and they sat as prisoners behind a pair of black horn framed glasses.

She smiled at the old man. Flashing him the whitest set of teeth he had ever seen outlined by her bright purple lips.

"You asked that man if he was from Brooklyn. I think he was." She smiled at him again. "I'm Aveena and if I'm not mistaken, you're Ed. Not buddy."

"Most people call me Ed, but the name's Alfred. Alfred Scott Peterson." He straightened up his shoulders a little more as he said his full name. He hadn't introduced himself properly in a long time and he was determined to do it right. Even if he didn't know quite what to think of this young stranger dressed from head to toe in black with a strange little silver hoop hanging from the middle of her nostrils.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Alfred." She reached out her hand to shake his, but Alfred held tightly to his walker. Afraid that she would smirk at the weakness of his hands in hers. Aveena, unfazed by this, lowered her hand and rested her thumb between her hip and the strap to a large shoulder bag she had dangling at her side.

"Are you trying to get on a bus?" She asked as she turned her head to look down the road.

Alfred turned slightly to look back at the office building across the street. He took a deep breath and tilted his head a bit upward to get a better look at the enormous building.

"Not really." He said. "I just like bugging the bus drivers. It keeps me young."

Aveena chuckled and Alfred looked back at her smiling face. He felt a bit of accomplishment for making someone, other than himself, laugh a little.

"Are you going to stay here all day?" She asked him.

"Eh, I haven't decided. I heard it was going to be a sunny day and I sure wouldn't mind getting me a little tan. " Alfred smirked and stretched out his pale arm. Aveena laughed and shook her head.

"I don't have anywhere special to be. I might as well, stay around here to make sure the bus drivers get a proper bothering for the day."

"Would you like some help getting back home? Or maybe I can call someone for you?" She twisted her body slightly to open her shoulder bag and started rummaging through it with her right hand.

Alfred found himself to be quite flabbergasted by this stranger's sudden interest in him. As she continued to search her bag, he tilted his head to read a little tattoo on her wrist.

He squinted while he read it out loud.

"To thy own self be true, huh?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, my tattoo." She giggled and without looking up from her bag said, "I think it’s a great motto to live by. In a world where everyone wants to be the same, I just want to be me. Sometimes I forget though and I need a little bit of reminding." She pulled her hand slightly out of her bag and looked at her wrist for a moment. "This is a constant reminder. To be true to who I am. I used to have it written on post-it note, but I would always lose it." She looked up at Alfred for a moment and grinned.

Not wanting to offend her with all the sarcastic remarks going through his head at that moment, Alfred nodded as if in agreement.

"That's nice, I guess. It must be hard remembering your values or morals if they aren't inked into your arm. "

Aveena had gone back to digging in her bag and hadn't seemed to have heard his last remark. Her brows were now furrowed as she began to pull papers and pens out of her bag.

Alfred didn't know whether he wanted to make a run for it or if he wanted to stick around to watch this woman pull something incredible out of her bag.

He rolled his eyes at the thought of making a "run" for it. He knew a herd of snails could outrun him. He smirked at the idea of him racing little green snails with Mahogany colored shells. His thoughts were almost cartoonish.

"“You know what?” Aveena asked, without directing the question to Alfred. “I think I left my phone at the Chipotle down the street. Will you hold my bag for minute, so I can look feel around in my pockets once more?" Without waiting for a response Aveena handed Alfred her purse and began feeling through the pockets of her black jean jacket. Aveena sighed and looked up at Alfred, "It's not here. It must be down the street. I’m going to run back and get it. I’ll only be a few minutes. Will you wait for me to get back?”

Alfred raised an eyebrow and nodded his head. At that moment he wasn’t quite sure what to do. He had intended to wait for her, but as he watched her quickly disappear in a sea of people on the busy sidewalk, he knew she wouldn’t be back.

He slowly turned his walker towards the opposite direction, the black book no longer in his hands. All his life he had chased money and comfort. Now, he walked down the street thinking of how alone he was and how pitiful it was that the only joy he was able to derive these days came from harassing bus drivers. But as his thoughts turned towards his black book and to Aveena, a smile crept up on his face. For the first time in years Alfred felt as though he could make a positive difference. He felt as though, someone would remember him as a kind soul and not a greedy miser. He knew his time was coming to an end and he was finally ready to lay down in peace.

Aveena, after finding her phone and throwing it into her purse, promptly rushed back to the bus stop where she had met Alfred. To her disappointment he was no longer there. She had seen the sadness in his eyes and had hoped that maybe for a brief moment, she could lift his spirits.

Before she could think about it for too much longer, an alert went off on her phone. As Aveena reached into her purse to grab the phone, she felt something strange. Her eyebrows furrowed as she pulled a black leather bound journal from her bag. She opened it to the first page which read,

"This book has been my greatest possession in life. I hope that for you, whoever you may be, that this book will not possess your life, but aid you in creating a great life. Sincerely, an unexpected friend, Alfred. "

Aveena gasped as she turned the page. The journal had been hollowed out and within the hollowed space lay a stack of hundred dollar bills.

Tears came to her eyes as she rushed back to her drafty studio apartment. She took out the bills and counted them.

"$300,000" Aveena said out loud to herself. "I promise Alfred. I will use this to create the greatest life you've ever seen. You just saved my life. Thank you Alfred! Thank you!”

At the same time, ten miles downtown, Alfred smiled and whispered, “You saved the last few moments of my life Aveena”. Then he closed his eyes and gave up the ghost. Finally, he was at peace.

Two lives changed through a moment of kindness.