Butterfly on the Bus

Butterfly – September 2010

In contrast
to the mostly rugged
working-class folks
sitting in resigned
impatience
on the early morning
Coastal link bus
to Bridgeport,
this one woman -
probably in her
mid-50s -
was sharply outfitted
with floral patterns;
an overflow of
pink, red
and blues
adorning her dress.

She sat in front
on a lateral seat
where she could
talk to the driver,
but still
hold court –
between the frequent stops –
with the other
folks
sitting nearby.

“My mother
had breast cancer
and
it took my
two aunts.
I shouldn’t be surprised
that I
have it
too,”
she said
adjusting her
white gloves
that fit
smoothly,
naturally
on her hands
and stood
in sharp contrast
to her deep, black
seemingly soft arms.
“The doctors said
I may have waited
too long
and they were slow
to find out
what was wrong…
but I’ve been praying
and I know this
will work out
one way
or the other.
This is in
God’s hands
now.”

As people
got on the bus
and
got off the bus,
most were not paying
any mind
to their surroundings,
or the conversations
that surrounded them.
They were
caught up
in the 7 a.m.
dew
that clouds
our morning
perceptions.

No one seemed
to think
that the pretty dress,
white gloves
and Sunday hat
may have been
out of place
with the
working class,
physical labor
set and
their more
rugged wear.

As the woman
stood to leave
the bus
at Bridgeport Hospital
she stood back
as a young girl,
probably about 6 or 7
with braids in her hair
jumped on the bus
and,
as if announcing her arrival,
looked around
at everyone
with a big smile
that showed-off
a missing tooth

She stopped
with her mother
Wwho dropped coins
in the slot
to pay their fare

“Oh honey,
your hair looks beautiful,”
the woman
who was sitting
in the front seat said

“My mommy
did that,”
said the girl
with a sing-song
in her voice.
“I’m hanging out
with my mommy
today!”

“OK, lets
take a seat,”
the girl’s
mother said,
snapping her
change purse shut

As they started walking
towards a seat,
the woman in front of the bus -
who was about to leave -
placed one of her
white-gloved hands
gently
on the girl’s head

“God bless you, child.
God bless you”

The woman
then left the bus,
taking slow
deliberate
steps
as she headed
to her journey
and the bus
drove off
like it always does
after each stop