The Waiting Man
The waiting man. That’s what they call him. Every night at 12:00 AM he waits at the lamppost. People approach him, they try to talk to him.
"I'm waiting," he'll say.
"Waiting for what?" Somebody asks.
"For the bus."
"But, sir, the bus stop is over there" somebody says as they point to the bus stop.
"I'm waiting" He'll repeat. It's no use trying to talk to him, he'll say the same thing, nothing more. He won't move, he doesn't move. But by morning, he's gone. Nobody has seen him leave, nobody recognizes his face, some say he doesn't even have one. And yet he waits. He waits for the bus, and the bus never comes.
Some people watch him all night, they blink, and he's there, then 3 hours later, they blink, and he's gone. Nobody knows what he's really waiting for, or where he came from. People have reported him to the police for loitering, but since he was somewhat close to the bus stop, legally, its not loitering.
He doesn't cause harm or disruption. He doesn't have a goal, he's just there. Just waiting. And nobody knows why.
One boy was to curious so he sat next to him all night. As they talked.
"Why do you wait here, sir?"
"I'm waiting."
"You know the bus will never come."
"I'm waiting."
"What are you really waiting for, sir?"
"For the bus."
"I know, but what are you really waiting for?"
"For the bus."
The child sighed, and sat next to him. A spider crawled onto the boys hand.
"Yuck," The boy said. "I hate spiders." He shook the spider off of his hand and it ran into the bushes. Another crawled onto the child's hand. "Do you keep these in your pocket?" The boy laughed. He got an idea to see if the man would move. He stood up, raised his hand, and let the spider crawl onto the mans shoulder. It crawled towards the darkness of the mans head, and into an abyss. "gross!" the boy exclaimed "are you going to do anything about that?" the man stayed still as a statue.
"I'm waiting" he said. The boy sighed.
"well I'm tired, so I'm going to bed." He began to his house. "Goodbye mister," and he ran back to his house.
The next night the boy decided to see him again.
"Hello mister," he said. The man said nothing.
"What did you do today?"
"Waiting," he said. The boy sat next to him.
"I'll wait with you, then."
The boy and the man waited. The boy felt another spider on his hand. "You know…" He examined the small creature. "These things are kinda cute," he giggled. The man did nothing. He stood, he waited.
The boy sighed. "When's this bus gonna come, anyway?"
"I'm waiting," The man answered. The boy waited all night with the man, then turned to ask him another question, but he was gone. A single spider stood in the place of the man. The boy sighed, and said goodbye to the spider as if he was the man.
For the next couple of years, the boy waited with the man at least once a week. The said bus never arrived, but the boy still waited with him. He talked with the man, the man never said much other than the only five words he ever muttered. Though the boy could tell somehow, the man was listening. The boy was growing and the man knew all of the boy's secrets.
"It's been kinda hard y'know?" The boy said "school work, school…" The boy trailed in thought. "I think I like somebody," the boy said. "but there is a problem" the boy muttered, sat down, covered his eyes, and wept. "I don't think I like girls the way I'm supposed to" the boy stuttered in between cries. His words lingered in his mouth but finally, on this street, in the darkness, the words exited his mouth. The man did nothing. He just waited, and the boy knew this. The boy stood up and rubbed his eyes. He waved to the man, and began back home.
The boy waked to the lamppost at the end of the street, and didn't look at the man, or talk to the man. He waited, just as the man had all this time. The boy gulped a breath of air to speak to a shadowy figure that loomed over the boy his whole life. The statement the boy was about to say was acknowledging this. The boy had grown up living in pain, and the only person there for him, was this man.
"I'm waiting," the boy said. The shadowy statue that followed the boys past, the waiting man that never moved, turned around to face the boy. He removed his hat, revealing the mans face, and the man grinned.
"My bus has arrived," The man said. "See you at the next stop." The man's face was the boys face, and the boys face was the mans. The man placed his hat, and his trench coat on the boy. A large bus approached them, and the man stepped in the bus. He turned to the boy and smiled, then walked into the bus. As the bus exited.
"Why do you wait here, sir?"
"I'm waiting."
"You know the bus will never come."
"I'm waiting."
"What are you really waiting for, sir?"
"For the bus."
"I know, but what are you really waiting for?"
"For the bus." The child sighed, and sat next to him. A spider crawled onto the boys hand.
"Yuck," The boy said. "I hate spiders." He shook the spider off of his hand and it ran into the bushes. Another crawled onto the child's hand. "Do you keep these in your pocket?" The boy laughed. He got an idea to see if the man would move. He stood up, raised his hand, and let the spider crawl onto the mans shoulder. It crawled towards the darkness of the mans head, and into an abyss. "gross!" the boy exclaimed "are you going to do anything about that?" the man stayed still as a statue.
"I'm waiting," he said. The boy sighed.
"Well I'm tired, so I'm going to bed." He began to his house. "Goodbye mister," and he ran back to his house.
