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Close to Home (II)

I
Bryan ran to the front of the bus screaming, “Luke! Luke! You've killed my brother!”

Alf, the driver had let his concentration slip for a few seconds. It had slid from the road to a shapely pair of breasts bouncing along the pavement. The breasts had disappeared into a shop.
   Now Alf was left to deal with the terrible reality of having driven his bus into a young boy and on top of that a hysterical brother on the same bus.
   What were the chances?

Off the bus Bryan saw a strange woman cradling his brother, stroking his hair and quietly repeating the words, “David, sweetest. Lie still. Mummy's here. Sssshhh.”
   It took a second for it to register with Bryan that this wasn't actually his brother. It had looked like him. Same frame. Same haircut. Even the same style of clothes. Different name.
   Recognition morphed shock into reality and Luke into a different 10-year-old-boy. Standing there, emotional logic took hold. If the boy had been Luke then this would make the woman his mother.
   “Is he okay?” He didn't know what else to say. He looked at the stranger holding the boy, which only moments ago had been his brother and although he felt compassion, but he was beginning to feel foolish. He was trapped by his inability to express himself without further embarrassment. It wasn’t his mother.

The breasts never reappeared.

II
A middle-aged woman on the bus asked the blind man sat next to her, “don't you feel sorry for the poor lad? He obviously thought it was his brother. Must have been a shock. Do you think he was embarrassed? He didn't get back on.”
   The blind man thought for a second. “It's an easy mistake to make. For me anyway, I'm always getting people mixed up.” The blind man laughed after his comment so she knew he was joking. Trying to take the edge off the tension he could sense in her voice.
   She didn't like the irreverent nature of his answer. She'd been kind enough to explain to him what had been going on as the accident was being cleared up. Although the commentary was for the most part unnecessary as the blind man had heard it all happening.

Picking up on her silence he added, “Being blind means you see other things. I see humanity. Everyone stops to help you when you're blind. I see more good in people day-to-day than you'd imagine was possible. Newspapers are full of bad news, even the Braille ones. So I think the guy was feeling bad. It was close to home, you know? I might be blind but I pick up on other reactions. Like smells and sounds. There was awful panic in his voice. He'll be shook up. I know I would be if I thought it was my brother. And he can see and I can’t.”
   The woman didn't like that answer any better. It was the part about smelling she took offence at. So she sat in silence until her stop.

“Maybe it was his stop anyway you stupid bitch,” the blind man said quietly to himself, after she had left.

III
After his shift Alf needed a pint. The lad he'd hit had been okay. No brakes. Only cuts and bruises. In that split second he'd hit the breaks quickly enough without realising it at the time.
   Greg, a driver at the depot had killed a 7-year-old girl six weeks previous. The other drivers felt no hatred towards Greg. It happens. But somehow Greg was different, separate. Mainly because the other divers didn't know what to say to him.
   At the pub Alf gathered his thoughts. He wouldn't tell Angie. Things like that usually upset her. What would be the point?

And neither of them knew Meg, their 14-year-old daughter, was 14 weeks pregnant. But like a soap opera, they'll find that out next week.

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