Angels

A few days ago I was due to meet a friend of mine at Place X. I was busy shopping at Place A and decided to get a bus that stops at Place X. I checked the bus timetables and finally clambered onto a bus that apparently stopped right outside Place X. Perfect. I'm usually clueless about a lot of things, but I was sure of this. So sure that I didn't bother to double check the destination with the bus driver. Figures, eh?

Anyway, I was sitting in the bus, had my nice coat on with my best boots and a whole load of shopping in my hands. The idea of uneaten chocolate in one of those bags pre-occupied my mind for some time before I decided to look out the window and realised that I should have reached Destination X a few minutes ago. The scenery outside had changed and it didn’t look particularly friendly or inviting anymore. I figured that I would wait a few more minutes just incase the bus driver had made a wrong turn and was trying to get back on track again. A few moments later things didn’t seem to be improving. In fact the scenery was deteriorating by the second. I approached the driver and asked him when he would be getting to Place X.

Driver: “Place X, baby?”

Me: “Yes, this bus does go to Place X, right?”

Driver: “Oh, right….Place X…”

Me: “Ummm, yes….from the looks of things we seemed to have driven past it without my knowing.”

Driver: “Oh, baby, I never drove near Place X.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Driver: “Diversions, baby…we totally bypassed Place X. We’re in Place R at the moment, quite a distance away from where you want to go.”

I was getting very worried at this point – so worried that I didn’t even realize that he was calling me “baby” every other sentence, which usually ticks me off. Place R is one of the areas you don’t go to alone, or you sure as Hell wouldn’t want to go to on your own.

There was one other person with me on this bus and he looked like he fit in just perfect with Place R. The bus driver seemed to sense my discomfort and smiled encouragingly.

Driver: “I can’t be of much help to you, baby, other than to suggest that you get off at the next stop, cross the road and wait for Bus AR to take you to Place X.”

Me: “Can you just not drop me off at a station, or a hotel or some place I can catch a taxi?”

Driver (whooping with laughter): “A Station? Hotel? Taxi? In this place? Baby, you are one comedian!”

I didn’t feel like a comedian. I felt more like a funeral director, and an unsuccessful funeral director at that. I wearily went back to my seat, where across from me the other passenger was glaring at me. I thought about taking out my mobile to text my friend and letting her know about my predicament, but with the glares I was getting from The Nutter I squashed that thought instead.

The bus stopped with a jolt, and the bus driver turned around with a grin. “There you go, baby,” he yelled, “Cross this road and wait at that bus stop near that demolished house.”

It looked like Satan’s playground out there.


I sucked in a breath, put on my tough look (which didn’t look one bit convincing) and hopped out, scuttling across the road to the other side. The Nutter leapt out of the bus, gave a bit of a yawn and a stretch, and sauntered slowly across the road towards me. I believe I screamed inside my head a few times, and yet tried to look nonchalant on the outside. I tried to think positive thoughts while the Nutter approached me with a smirk on his face.

“Well,” I thought, “If you’re gonna die, might as well have your best clothes on….maybe I could ask him if I could have one last bite of chocolate before the bitter end.”

I turned my back on the Nutter and frantically looked up the road, but there wasn’t a single bus, car, bicycle, tram, plane in sight. Totally deserted. A solitary dog sat a few feet away from me, looking at me with deep soulful eyes. I heard a few mumbles behind me and then rapid footsteps heading my way. I closed my eyes and waited for the worst.

Someone grabbed my arm and I let out a squeal and turned around, my fists up in the air, ready to (I suppose) beat the crap out of the Nutter (yeah right).

Lo and behold, there was a little old lady clutching my sleeve, looking most surprised at my reaction. The Nutter, a few steps away, had stopped in his tracks and stood staring at us.

Little Old Lady: “I’m sorry, dearie, did I startle you?”

Me: “Oh, oh….I daresay you did….let me catch my breath!”

Little Old Lady: “Now, now, you mustn’t be frightened. I was in the shop next door. I came to meet my sweet little boy right here and noticed you standing on your own. Not a nice place for a young lady like yourself to be at, is it? ”

The Nutter – her “sweet little boy”? Mike Tyson would have run away screaming in fear if he saw him!

Me: “No, I took the wrong bus. The driver has told me which bus to wait for.”

Little Old Lady: “Well now, my boy and I will gladly wait with you until the bus shows up, won’t we Al?”

Al grunted and shuffled his feet, which I presumed meant yes.

And that darling little old lady, and her son (not quite such a Nutter anymore, and infact a sweet person indeed) waited in the bitter cold until my bus trundled up and I had safely hopped on. I couldn’t thank them enough (the chocolate I had bought and decided to give to them certainly wasn’t enough) and on the journey back to Place X and a very impatient friend, I couldn’t help but think that, whatever else anyone may say or think, there really is a God out there, and those were two of His Angels.