"It's a note from Colleen."
Who is this guy? I express my gratitude and am about to step aboard when he says, "Anytime, Pal. Treat her right or else."
He wouldn't need to tell me a second time. With relief, I put the note in my jacket pocket.
At Broadway, a passenger gets off and I have a seat. With shaky hands, I open the envelope. It contains an apology, press of business and all that. I can live with it, I thought. There is a little heart above her signature. Mine flutters.
The next morning, Colleen and I do the crossword puzzle together. It just happened as if it were the most natural event in the history of the world. We receive smiles all around and knowing looks from two of the older ladies. It they had truly been paying attention they would have noticed that we'd boarded as usual. Our Man gave us a grin. I said hello to him, rather too loudly, I might add.
That evening, Colleen and I went to the Sockeye City Diner for dinner. I proposed a toast. In turn, she proposed one. I remember looking out over Cannery Channel and pointing out the whale watchers' Zodiac.
"To Our Man," she said. "If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have had the courage to let you know that I like you."
"That's wonderful," I said.
"What's wonderful?" she asked. "Our Man or that fact that I like you?"
"Both."
About a year later, thing changed rather drastically, rather suddenly.
"There's just the two of us this morning," the driver said.
"Where's Uncle Fred?"
"Uncle Fred died suddenly on the weekend, I'm sorry to have to tell you.
"That's a shock," I said.
As soon as Colleen got on at the corner of One and Williams, we started in on the crossword puzzle as usual, but my heart wasn't in it. By the time we reached Railway and Williams, I put it away. Our Man had not shown up either. I hoped that this was not another sad exit.
Colleen and I spent a quiet evening at her place finalizing our guest list.
"We should invite Our Man," I suggested. "After all, if it weren't for him, you'd still be sitting in the middle of the bus reading your book and I would still be miserable."
"We've got to find him first," she said. "I hope he shows up tomorrow."
At every significant occasion, there is invariably someone near and dear, who is far removed for one reason or another. Our wedding was no exception. Although, a much-desired person was missing, he alone was responsible for the presence of eight others, four on the bride's side and four on the groom's.
Colleen and I ended up buying a condo on the north side of False Creek. When the weather is good, we stroll to work. Along the way, we occaasionally make it a point to stop for a moment or two to chat. From time to time we have our old bus gang over for potluck. There's always a quiet word of thanks for Our Man who transformed hello. I adapted myself to it. Once goodbye has been perfected, hello becomes a matter of eminent domain.
the end