The bus pulled to a stop at the hospital entrance, right by the emergency department. The woman had barely moved from her seat, clutching her son tightly in her arms. The boy, still wrapped in his thick scarf, looked pale but less fragile than before.
“Right, lets get you inside,” the driver said, cutting the engine and stepping out. He didnt wait for her to reply, just held the door open as she carefully descended the steps. The cold hit them both like a wall, but the woman barely seemed to notice.
The hospital lights were harsh, buzzing faintly overhead. A nurse at reception glanced up as they entered, her expression shifting from boredom to concern the moment she saw the boy.
“Ill wait,” the driver said gruffly, jerking a thumb back toward the bus. “Take your time.”
She hesitated, then nodded, whispering her thanks before disappearing through the double doors.
Back in the drivers seat, he rubbed his hands together, the warmth of the heater slowly seeping into his fingers. The bus was empty now, the last passengers having shuffled off to their own destinations. He poured himself a cup of tea from his thermos, the steam curling in the cold air.
An hour passed before the woman reappeared, her son drowsy but awake in her arms. The tightness in her shoulders had eased.
“Well?” the driver asked as she climbed back aboard.
“They gave him medicine,” she said softly. “Said hell be all right.”
He exhaled, the tension in his own chest loosening. “Good. Thats good.”
She hesitated, then added, “I dont I dont know how to thank you.”
He waved her off. “No need.”
But she shook her head, insistent. “There is. You didnt have to stop. You didnt have to wait.”
The driver glanced at the boy, who was watching him with tired but curious eyes. “Just say thanks,” he said finally. “Thats enough.”
Months later, on the same route, he saw her again. She flagged him down at the usual stop, a small bundle in her arms. When the doors opened, she handed him a cloth-wrapped package.
“From the farm,” she said. “Eggs, butter. Fresh this morning.”
He tried to refuse, but she wouldnt hear it. Behind her, the boynow with more colour in his cheekspeeked out and muttered, “Thank you, mister.”
The driver took the bundle, nodding once. “Youre welcome, lad.”
It wasnt much. But it was enough.
