Bus Stop Stories: Crumpled Fedora

Rod and Emerile were laughing. Rod nodded, I returned with a weak smile. He picked it up quickly.

The figure next to me held the brim of a fedora slowly twisting it out of shape. Rod elbowed Emerile. Both went silent staring up the street as if looking for the bus.

Fingers squeezed into fists around the felt. They trembled as they settled upon his knees.

An occasional sigh was cut off by choking sounds. He placed the fedora snuggly over his knee and gently took his left hand in his right. His thumb barely touched the ring on his finger as if afraid it would break.

People became silent as they walked up. The hiss of airbrakes signaled the arrival of the bus. The man stood up and put on the crumpled brimmed fedora.

Rod and Emerile stood to one side and others did the same. The man nodded. The dark black suit climbed into the bus revealing a glimpse of navy blue socks.

© 2014-2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

Bus Stop Stories: Rod the Observer

Bus Stop

Rod took his place on the bench as the bus pulled away. “What was that all about?”

I shook my head with a half-smile in reply.

“I don’t know how he lives through that day after day, man.” He looked at me for agreement. I raised an eyebrow.

“What? That was crazy. She’d drive me off my rock, man.” Rod was a college student wanting to be a journalist. He liked to bounce his observations off me. I could see his wheels turning as he tried to look outside his world box.

“I guess he didn’t seem upset or anything, the patience of a saint. I would have blown.”

I nodded to acknowledge I was listening.

“Rod!” We looked up as Rod’s friend Emerile jogged across the street.

“Real Erile,” They did the handshake thing began that I never could master.

“How is it my friend?”

“Fantastic, just talking ‘bout two oldies going back and forth.”

“You were necking it again? Need to stop all that, going to get that elastic head joint of yours chopped listening where it don’t belong.” Emerile smiled.

“Man, I’m good.”

“What you doing?”


“Good, we’re heading to Tippy’s.”

“Why?” Rod was tight with his money.

“Man, Tippy’s only sells one thing.”

“I know, but I’m good as is.”

“Serious? Man, their stuff makes everything else like 2001.” Emerile gets excited about things, talking with his entire body. Never stand next to him when he gets started.

“You get it then.”

“Go with me anyway. You ain’t got nothin’ else to do.”

“Man, I am the busiest man in town.” The bus pulled up. The doors closed behind them. Two lifelong friends going on about nothing. Didn’t matter what the age. Rod would never realize he was a back-and-forth guy himself.


© 2014-2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.