This could be a true story.
My two-year old son and I were getting on the bus for our return trip home from the mall. I asked him to sit right there in front, close behind the driver, then dug in my pocket for the quarters and put them in the slot. When I turned to join my son, he was running to the back of the bus.
An older man sitting by himself in one of the seats in the middle section saw this and said as I walked by, “I guess he told you.” He said it with a chuckle. I lifted one side of my mouth in a smile and walked to the back of the bus. I grabbed the bar as the bus moved forward and looked at where my son decided to sit.
The backbench was five seats across. A heavy-set white man in his twenties sat on this end, his arm over the back of the bench. A young, black man anchored the far end in a large winter coat, the hood shadowing his face. He wore a winter cap on his head down to his eyebrows. His eyes were half-closed but nodded to me. I noticed he had his fists balled up and pushing into his thigh. My son sat in the middle seat and did the same thing with his hands. There wasn’t enough room for me to sit there so I took a side seat that faced into the bus. I could keep a close eye on all three of them. “You want to come over here,” I asked, patting the seat next to me. My son looked straight on and said quietly, “No.” The two men looked at him then me, and smiled. They had a rebellious compatriot on their bench and they were pleased.
Since my son was still and silent, I spent a few minutes watching the scenery go by and the men on the backbench. The man on the other side of my son said, “I need to get to Seattle, that’s old-school there.” I didn’t know what he was talking about. The closer man on the backbench looked at him and said, “Yeah, the Seahawks.” I assumed from that tidbit of conversation, the two men were not together.
We came down the street to an intersection and stopped at the light. The man nearest to me on the backbench said,”Man, those are big dogs.” I followed his line of sight to see a guy walking his two huge white and blonde, long hair dogs. He stood at the intersection waiting to cross in front of the bus. One dog’s back was above the man’s waist. I didn’t recognize the breed but the square jaw and fluffy tail made me think of a blonde Mastiff, if there was such a thing. The other man said, “Yeah, they are. They’re as big as he is.” By this time, the man and his dogs were on my side of the bus back on the sidewalk. I had a clear view and could appreciate how large the dogs were. It wasn’t a trick of perspective or distance – they were just huge dogs. The guy closer to me said “Yeah, you’re right.” The further guy says, “What are they, Dobermans?”
My son says, “Yeah, Dobermans.”
