It’s not often that I find myself people watching while I’m out and about at my favorite Italian restaurant. Everything here was made fresh daily, from the collection of sauces used for the different array of dishes, the pasta noodles all done by hand, and even the simple pane toscano bread baked in traditional iron ovens was prepared before the restaurant opened. My sense of smell was always surrounded by the delicious aroma of Italy.
I’m usually either reading my favorite book or watching a movie on my phone to pass the time; I tend not to pay attention to what other people were doing. But today, I couldn’t help but notice something.
The bus across the street just left its stop, quickly taking off down the street. Right as it left, a young woman went sprinting for the stop but couldn’t make there in time. She took a seat at the bus stop and dropped her backpack, throwing her face into her hands.
“She seems like an angry one just for missing the bus,” I mumbled to myself, taking a small sip of my aged brunello. I kept my eye on her for a bit longer, hoping to see what was wrong. However, as I sat there, something within me was telling me that sitting and watching wasn’t going to get me the answers I was looking for.
Putting my glass down, I got up from my seat and walked through the outdoor seating area, crossing the street when the light changed. As I got closer to her, I realized that the young woman was actually crying in her hands.
I walked up to her and asked, “Everything okay? I saw you running down the street for the bus.”
When she looked up at me, tears flooded from her emerald-green eyes, shimmering through her obvious anger. Her voice was delicate and gentle, almost timid, when she finally spoke.
“I just missed my bus for midtown. If I’m late to class one more time, I’m failing the semester.”
I could feel the pain and desperation coming from her. I’ve only had one look at her, and I already want to help.
So I did.
“Let me give you a ride to class.”
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Copyright © 2021 by Luka Tatsujo
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