The Blind Woman at the Bus Stop

He was a callous bastard. This proved it all the more. I knew it from junior school. He'd take a kid's sandwich, bite into it, spit it out and crush the rest in front of them. His laughter would be maniacal, especially if the kid cried.

It always made me feel uneasy.

Why were we friends? Proximity. Habit. We lived close to each other. His mum was lovely and I often wondered what quirk of evolution caused him to be so cruel. As our mums car-shared, we were thrown together and found ourselves hanging out after school. We sort of helped each other - he copied my school work and I benefited from his malevolent umbrella, like a shield of cool badness.

As we got older, we were already growing apart but it was the blind lady that finally made me sever the connection. I knew that I'd receive his enmity from that day forward but I was prepared to chance it.

We moved in separate circles: his, an apprenticeship at a local firm and mine, A levels; but we'd go to the gym once my classes were done and work out.

I was starting to make new friends. Him, not so much. His mum had been ill. I felt sorry for him. And her.

We were leaving the gym that day, him driving, us now teenagers and the deluges of spring were relentless, filling the roads with huge puddles.

The blind lady with her long hair and her staring eyes, high-vis waistcoat and prominent white stick was waiting for the bus. She must have known how wet it was; she may have known how close she was to the blocked drain which was causing an inordinate amount of water to accumulate right where she was standing. Most car drivers were avoiding it.

He saw her. He saw her vulnerability and what scrap of humanity he had left him, his casual meanness manifesting itself as he powered towards the puddle to plough his way through it.

I shouted out "Stop!" but he wouldn't.

I never looked at her. My shame wouldn't let me. But the image of that woman drenched and him laughing shrivels my insides.

***

365 words

A callous bastard indeed. I wonder what sort of man he'll become? This feels like the start to a deeper tale of a friendship that goes more than awry. Maybe there's scope for more...

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