A Rare Day by Mrs Joyce Anderson

The bus was idling at the terminus when the boy clambered aboard. Most of the seats were occupied by women laden with groceries. We all had one thing in common; we were cold and damp. The boy too, was weighed down by bulging plastic bags; and he had great difficulty getting his fare from the depths of his threadbare denims.
“Dae ye go by Ibrox, pal?” he asked the driver with a wide grin.
“Aye,” he smiled in reply.
“Wan tae there then. Ta.”

The driver dropped the money into the machine, and indicated the ticket curling out. Taking it, the boy started up the aisle of the bus. He was tall and thin, aged about eighteen. His long, jet-black hair was plastered to his skull, courtesy of the heavy downpour. He was shivering. Silently, I sympathised with him, as I too was soaked. He walked to the back of the bus and found a seat. The quiet of shared damp misery once more settled over the passengers. Suddenly, he was up on his feet. The woman in the seat beside him glanced up in fright.

“Dae ye like melons, missus?” he asked her.
In his hand was one of the plastic bags, open to reveal a large melon cut into slices. He reached in, drew out a slice, and handed it to her.
“Thanks son,” she beamed and tucked in with gusto.
Walking down the aisle, he handed out slice after slice until everyone had one. The driver got one too, and after several bites, started the bus. The boy stood beside him.
“Ah got a rerr bargain o’ they melons at the Barras,” he told his delighted audience.

“The man sellin’ them was fed up wi’ the weather. He told us they were going cheap. Ah got four bags o’ them fur a pound. Ah would’ve got mair but ah couldnae cairry ony mair.”
His young face was shining with delight as he relived his great bargain. The woman behind me called to him.
“They’re just luvly son. Am fair drooned in juice” Slurping, she tried to stem the flow.
“Haud oan!” he called.
He raced up the bus and, in seconds, was back with the tissues the melons had been wrapped in.
“There ye are. Ye kin wipe yourself wi’ them.”
“Ta son. You’ve thoat o’ everythin’.”

He gave a nod and returned to his seat. I sat in silence, deep in thought. I found it hard to describe what I had just witnessed. It was an amazing act of kindness, but it was much more than that. There he was, undernourished and poorly dressed for the atrocious weather, but what he had, he had shared cheerfully and unselfishly with us all. He had said he had got a great bargain. What we had got was priceless.

I got off the bus at my stop and watched as it dwindled into the distance. I was soaked anew as I walked along in the heavy rain. I should have been miserable. I wasn’t. Inside me was a warm joyous feeling, an all encompassing glow. It stayed with me for the rest of that day, and is now fixed permanently in that place where best memories are stored.

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