Holding His Hand
That's all the driver had to do
47-year old Ruben Castel drove his bus 317 towards downtown San Antonio, Texas, with his shiny black shades on. The bald man had the physique of someone who was also a police officer. The area he was in had a lot of broken-down businesses that were close to being extinct unless they were remodeled.
An overly anxious bus rider, Oscar Cesareo, held out his left hand and grabbed the red string above his window. The sound of the string informed Ruben that a rider would be getting off at the next bus stop. The 60-year-old Oscar, with his light brown work uniform, hoped he was in the right area to get back to his apartment.
Ruben saw the next bus stop ahead and began braking slowly. He maintained the speed to the stop until he rose right beside the blue bus sign with his bus number on it. Oscar rose from his seat (which was by the middle of the bus) and slowly glided towards Ruben’s direction.
Oscar, oozing with anxiety, approached Ruben.
‘‘Excuse me, bus driver, is this area near General Mcmullen St?’’ asked Oscar.
‘‘I don’t know. Did General Mcmullen St come up on the bus screen?’’ answered Ruben.
‘‘Um, no it didn’t, but.’’
‘‘Then General Mcmullen isn’t around here, then.’’
Oscar was shaken by the cold delivery of Ruben’s answer. He felt even more lost now than when he got on the bus twenty minutes ago at the Milesda Bus Center. An unmoved Ruben stared at Oscar and wondered what he was planning to do
‘‘Are you going to get off the bus, or aren’t you? Cause I got things to do.’’
‘‘Um yeah…yeah, I’m getting off.’’
A deflated Oscar walked towards the bus steps. He stepped on the steps until he reached the ground. All he saw ahead was a barbershop, a Raisin Cane’s restaurant, and a new-looking loan place. The dark & gloomy weather above captured the mood he was in right now.
Oscar turned around to stare at Ruben and the bus. Ruben didn’t hesitate to drive off from Oscar and proceed to more bus stops down the road. A bus rider in a white shirt & black church pants (who smelled like expired beer) sat in a small bus seat near where Ruben was. The rider stood up to speak to him.
‘‘He was lost, wasn’t he?’’ asked the rider with a smirk.
‘‘Yeah, he was lost.’’
‘‘And he wanted you to save him, to help him get to wherever he was trying to go?’’
‘‘Yeah, he wanted me to hold his hand. I ain’t got time for that.’’
‘‘Hey man, I hear you, you run a tight ship.’’
While Ruben and the rider continued chatting, another bus rider who witnessed the ordeal with Ruben and Oscar got up from his bus seat and walked towards the men. The rider had a green jacket on, along with his hoodie on his head, blue jogging pants, and black tennis shoes.
He also had a name tag on his jacket with the picture of a younger-looking man smiling to whoever stared at him, and his name, Stewart Gonzales, was shining in bold black ink.
Stewart looked determined while continuing to walk toward his target. Once he arrived in Ruben and the other rider’s space, both looked at the man with confusion and irritation.
‘‘Can I…help…you?’’ asked Ruben.
‘‘Yeah, you can help me. You can start by answering why you didn’t hold that man’s hand,’’ said Stewart.
‘‘Come again?’’
The rider Ruben was chatting with slowly eased out of the crossfire between Stewart and Ruben and sat back in his seat.
‘‘You heard me. Why didn’t you hold that man’s hand and lead him home? You saw he needed help.’’
‘‘You got a lot of nerve to speak to me like that, and I didn’t have to hold that man’s hand. He’s a grown man, he should use his brain and his legs to get back home.’’
‘‘You do have to hold his hand. If he needs help!’’
‘‘Yeah! Help the guy out, jerk!’’ another rider shouted from the back of the bus.
‘‘Shut up back there, and you, Mr., better sit back in your seat now!’’
‘‘I’ll sit when you learn that if a person needs help getting somewhere, you will hold their hand until they reach the other side of the land, understand?’’
‘‘Wait, what?’’ a confused Ruben asked.
‘‘I said you help your fellow human get home!’’ yelled Stewart.
‘‘I can’t help every passenger who gets lost. That’s what Google Maps is for!’’
‘‘You’re a sad excuse for a bus driver. Shame on you.’’
Everyone else except the rider Ruben was talking to started chanting the words shame on you to Ruben.
‘‘Shame on you! Shame on you! Shame on you!’’
‘‘You know what, you can all get off my bus.’’ shouted Ruben.
‘‘What?’’
‘‘Get off my fuc- freaking bus! But you troublemaker…you first.’’
‘‘Gladly, but before I go, I think you mean get off my father’s bus.’’
‘‘What?’’
‘‘That’s right, my father’s bus. He’s the owner of Milesda Metropolitan Transit in this city. Enjoy your last rides on this bus because you’ll be unemployed soon.’’
Ruben ran out of words to say. He put his head down on his black steering wheel, feeling ashamed. Stewart turned around and looked towards the back of the bus.
‘‘Remember, whether you're related to the owner of Milesda Metropolitan Transit or just a quiet person trying to get home, if you're a bus driver for this company, always be kind to your bus riders.’’
‘‘Unless they get nasty with you after you try being civil with them,’’ Ruben added with his head up again.
‘‘And…cut!’’ shouted the director of the Milesda commercial.
The director walked away from his camera and walked towards the actors who played Stewart and Ruben.
‘‘Good work. That was great acting from you two!’’
‘‘Thank you,’’ Grant Seals ( the actor who played Stewart) said with a bow.
‘‘I second that, thank you,’’ said Michael Run (the Ruben actor)
‘‘That’s all for today. We’ll continue shooting tomorrow.’’ said the director.
The director walked away from Grant and Michael to speak to our actors on the set. The two men stared at each other with respect for each acting work.
‘‘I really thought you were going to throw me off the bus.’’ said Grant.
‘‘Oh good. I was worried that I was too over the top or not convincing enough,’’ said Michael.
‘‘Not at all. Your acting tone was perfect.’’
‘‘Oh, good, that’s all I wanted to know.’’
‘‘How long have you been acting?’’
‘‘Bout ten years now. I got my acting training at the Introspective Academy in New York City. I was there for four hard years, but it was worth it. How about you, youngin, how long have you been at this acting game?’’
‘‘Me? It’s been three years now. I went to UTA for my acting training. I still feel like a rookie, though.’’
‘‘It’s all good, youngin. I still feel that way from time to time. You've got mad chops. If you keep it up, you’ll be in TV shoes and movies with actors like Idris Elba or Vanessa Morgan.’’
‘‘You think so?’’
‘‘Oh, I believe so. You've got that spark.’’
‘‘Hey, are you two going to stand there all day or what? The shoot is over, you know,’’ said John Luis (the actor who played Oscar).
‘‘Oh, there you are! I was worried that you had gotten lost in this pretend world,’’ said Michael.
‘‘Nah, I’m good. Google Maps always got me,’’ said John.
Thank you for reading!
I enjoyed this!
A well-written story. I enjoyed reading this!