A Helping Hand

Lost inside a damn shopping centre. How humiliating.

What daft fool on the local council had been behind turning Macquarie Shopping Centre from a fairly simple Centre Spiral layout into the Labyrinthian monstrosity it was now, anyway?

Twists and turns and offshoots, each more confusing than the last. Not to mention the dratted Unmanned Metro line. I was mostly certain that I was on the right level, but I couldn't even see a sign for the bus stop! Carpark to one side, lifts over there, more shops everywhere else I turned! I wanted to punch an architect in the face on principle, but that wouldn't get me home - or to the damned hidden bus stop! - any faster.

All around me, people hurried by, intent on their own journey home, chasing after runaway children - ah, the energy of youth - or just not wanting to get caught up in the problems I was obviously having. Maybe some of them thought I was having a Senior Moment, and since they didn't know how to help, decided on discretion as the better part of valour. Maybe some saw the scowl I was wearing and were frightened off. Vivien Leigh only ever wished she had my Resting Bitch Face.

"Excuse me?"

Miracle of miracles, someone had stopped, all while I was busy cursing my luck. Taller than I'd ever been, even before the passage of time gave me a hunch. Clearly on her way from work, given the uniform shirt she wore and the insulated lunch satchel swinging in one hand. She kept to a non-intrusive distance, something I wish more young people did, these days, but with an openness to her body language that offered comfort.

Her gentle smile was a touch awkward, acknowledging the situation. "Are you looking for something?"

Most people would have opened with a blunt 'are you lost'. Diplomacy was another thing wasted on the young, but I wasn't about to say as much to my potential saviour. "The bus stop. This new layout has me all turned around."

The new additions were at least a few years old, by now, but it had been at least that long since I'd been here. The woman smiles again. "Actually, I'm headed there myself. There are a few different stops, probably to stop the routes bunching up, for all the good that does. Which bus are you taking?"

I named the route, and she nodded. "I think I know the one. Do you need a hand with the cart?"

Under other circumstances, I'd have accepted the offer, but right now I was using the shopping cart to stay upright, after walking all over multiple levels of shopping centre. Growing old was not for the faint of heart. Next time, I'd bring my walker, not just the collapsable cane. "I'll hang onto it, thank you, dearie."

She nodded agreeably, and fell into step, matching her pace to mine. A snail would probably be faster, but she didn't complain, keeping up a friendly conversation as she led the way down the ramp to the cinemas. "How has your day been? Before the hassle over a lack of exit signs, obviously."

I chuckled, wishing that even half of my care workers had her manners. "Bit of a trial. My aide called in sick, but the shopping doesn't do itself, and UberEats charges too much."

She nodded, taking the rear corner of the cart to guide it into a turn. Unwieldy things. "Tell me about it. Apparently the entire care industry is hammered right now, but it does end with a lot of people left in the lurch."

Wasn't that the unfortunate truth? We manuvered around several pop-up food stands, and entirely too many school children. "You won't miss your bus helping me, will you?"

She dodged a near-collision with a teenager, sprinting in a way that hinted either training for the olympics, or a concern about missing a bus. "I can catch either of two buses, and they both come regularly. I don't mind missing out on the barbarian hoards."

I hummed in agreement with her wise choice. For all that the younger crowd seemed to live with headphones on these days, few of them seemed to grasp the concept of playing music through those headphones, rather than on speaker to subject the rest of the world to their questionable tastes.

Up ahead, a pair of doors came into view, and the telltale sight and sound of a bus going past. I wouldn't have been surprised if she'd abandoned me then, having already gone beyond the call of duty, but she kept walking to the correct stop, and even squinted at the cramped timetable to see how long before the next bus. "Would you like me to wait around?"

She would have, I could tell, if I'd said yes. The temptation was strong - I didn't get much company these days - but I could stand a few minutes alone, and I'd taken up enough of her time. "The driver can help me from here. Thank you for your help."

She beamed. "My pleasure."

She looked sharply to the side, her kind eyes tracking a bus turning onto the ramp that would bring them around. "And my bus. Have a good day!"

She set off at a fast pace that wasn't quite a run for the bus stop at the far end, and I smiled at her back. It was nice to know that there were still people out there willing to be kind.

This is from an actual interaction I had a few months ago, which inspired me to suggest the challenge in the first place.

The quickest and least-hilly route from work to the bus stop is through a nearby shopping centre, which I am familiar enough with to avoid getting lost, but even experienced shopper can easily get turned around.

Between a university and at least two retirement villages nearby, Macquarie Megaplex gets its share of crowds, no matter what time of day it is, but for a decent chunk of my childhood, it was the closest movie theatre accessible by bus, so I got very familiar with the routes, and where the stops were.