"Oh it's just over the bridge and four blocks up," he replied. His voice was true but tired. "When does your bus leave?"
"Just under an hour from now. I'm catching the 6:15 to DC."
"Well you should have no problem making it back in time, it's just a ten minute walk. And you'll be able to stretch your money a whole lot further there than you will here. This whole place is starting to get to me. I'm trying to move on, but I've been stuck here three, long days."
His name was Paul, and his story was puzzling. A tale of unfortunate events had left him there eight hours from home, seventeen dollars short of a bus ticket with no credit card and no family to help out.
A shaky "Hello dear Paul," came from an aged, dark skinned woman who looked like she would take anyone home and fill their stomach with collard greens and chitlins. "Your pour soul was here before I left for Virginia. Still haven't been able to make it home, huh?"
"Not yet, mam, not yet. Just seventeen dollars shy is all. It'll come," said his voice. His sinking eyes and long face told a different story. When her eyes met his, she knew it was right.
She pulled out the twenty dollar bill from her purse. It was folded many times over. It had been with her many days and many miles, but she knew it was all for this. It had came to her when she appeared down and out as a blessing from a generous, trusting man. She knew that was the only way this dollar bill could ever be given away. And although it had landed in her hand under false pretenses, she hoped it would not leave her hand under the same.
But she needed to take her turn as the trusting one. And so she did.
It left her hand and met his. And now his face and hands and feet told another story. His mouth opened and no words came out. His hand grasped the money tightly. His feet turned and marched onward much like a train barreling full steam ahead.
She didn't know if he was about to break through the depot doors in full stride to the nearest liquor store or if he was actually heading to the ticket counter. She thought to herself, "well that was that." Then she spotted his bag and coat sitting in the booth across from her. In a few minutes time, he returned for his things with a ticket in hand and a smile hung ear to ear. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," he cried.
Her heart rose in her chest due to the trust and hope that was swelling within.
"Hey, why don't I run down to that McDonalds before your bus comes. It's the least I can do to say thanks. If you just give me a few dollars, I'll be back in plenty time before you're headed to DC."
He put on his jacket, took her money, and left his bag and his ticket. He never came back for it. And she got on the bus much more aware of her full heart, not her empty stomach.
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