WAITING FOR SOMEONE

New Zealand Listener, Volume 2, Issue 39, 21 March 1940, Page 43

WAITING FOR SOMEONE

MET her quite by chance. The bus had dropped me at the railway stop, and I champed about impatiently as I waited for the rest of my party to arrive. Gradually I became aware of a small, grey-haired woman, with a round, shining face, and blue child-like eyes behind her steel glasses. She was dressed in a nondescript fashion, and it was her curious movements that first drew my attention. The buses were arriving pretty frequently at that hour, and she would dart forward to each bus, peer expectantly inside, then return to the.shelter where I was waiting. After one of these excursions, she smiled at me, a little apologetically. "You need a bit of patience, don’t you?" "Yes," I smiled back, "if you're waiting for someone. . ." "Well, I don’t mind waiting,’ she said, "as long as I can find him." She caught sight of a bus that minute and darted after it-only to return a few minutes later, still placid and undisturbed. I began to enter into the zest of the game. "What is he like?" I asked. ‘‘ Perhaps I may see him?" "Tall, young-with a grey overcoat, I think, and he won’t be wearing a hat." Another Blank Drawn Two more buses arrived simultaneously, and this time I joined in the search. But the only man without a hat was a perky youngster of 70 or thereabouts. We trailed back to our waiting place, "Tt’s my son," she explained, confidentially. "‘He’s boarding in one of the suburbs. I’ve just come in from the country for a couple of days-and I want to see him. . ." "Maybe he’s been detained. You had an appointment to meet him here?" "TI couldn’t,’ she said with that undisturbed, child-like smile. "I’ve left his address at home, and I can’t even remember the name of the people he’s staying with." "Then what are you waiting here for?" She smiled pityingly at me. "Why, on, the chance that he may be coming into town for the evening. I've been meeting all the buses since 5.30." It was now 7.30.

Perseverance "But," I protested, "he may not be coming into town at all to-night." "That is what I’ve got to find out," she said. "I'll wait here till eight o’clock -then if he doesn’t arrive I’ll come back here at 9.30 and wait for the last bus at 11 o’clock. I might catch him then..." "But you'll be tired out-you can’t do it." Her smile was rare-and sweet. "Oh, I don’t mind that. It’s my son, you see." I hope she found her boy.

Just then another bus pulled up, and the little grey-haired lady was lost in the outpouring crowd. .. * * * It was only later that evening, sitting in a picture show, that I gave myself a mental shake. Why hadn’t I thought of it earlier? If I had gone along to a radio station and given particulars, a message would have gone out over the air.