The Chill of Winter Arrives
When the warmth of home is what we dream about
Rushing back from work at the train station, Jason was braving the icy cold winds as he headed back home. He stood at the bus stop and waited for his bus to arrive. It was three in the morning; the roads were deserted. He was the only person at the bus stand.
Fifteen minutes and there was no sign of the Bus. The icy winds kept blowing and whipping his face and body with sharp lashes of bitter cold stinging blows.
Suddenly, Jason noticed that he was surrounded by four masked youth. One had a blackjack in his hand, one a cudgel, and two others wore knuckle-dusters. They had stealthily crept upon him, as he stood on the dark street waiting for the bus to arrive.
They started battering him to the ground, as he tried to defend himself. Jason was a boxer at university, but it was years since he had used his boxing skills. In any case, it was going to be futile. He had nothing to defend himself with. He kept ducking, dodging, and moving, but there was nowhere to turn or block the sharp hits he was receiving. His satchel had his lunch and a few books.
The winds kept blowing and whistling around him like the sharp blows which were being showered on him. He could feel blood oozing from his face, his neck, and his side. He was in pain and it seemed that all was lost.
Then he heard the loud blast of the bus horn and a booming voice saying over the microphone, “LEAVE THE MAN ALONE, THE POLICE ARE COMING!!!!”
There were bright warm lights on him from the headlights of the bus and the four men immediately ran helter-skelter into the darkness of the lanes beside the bus stand. The punching and kicking had stopped, Jason was down on the floor. He was robbed, broken, exhausted, and he was slowly losing consciousness.
When Jason awoke the next afternoon, he was in the hospital. He was surrounded by his Dad, Mum, his two sisters, and his girlfriend. He asked about the person who had saved him and knew that he would have to thank the good samaritan.
A few weeks later, Jason was back at the bus stop. There were more lights now, and there were also more people standing around. It was still cold, but the street seemed safer now, as he saw a police patrol car pass by the stand.
The bus arrived. Jason was happy now that he would meet and thank the driver personally for rescuing him.
Jason was surprised to see a young lady sitting at the wheel.
“Excuse me, Driver, but where is the bus driver who drove the bus on the 7th of December?”
“That was Bill, he passed away on the 26th of December,” said the young lady.
“Oh, gosh! I'm sorry to hear that he passed away,” said Jason, “I had wanted to thank him for saving me on the day when I was attacked.”
“You are the person Bill saved, yes he did tell us about the incident and he said that you went down fighting. Here, take this,” said the young woman, “Bill would have wanted you to have it.”
The bus driver handed Jason a worn-out little wooden plaque which was at the side of the dashboard of the bus with the words engraved on it, “Always Help Whoever You Can and Whenever You Can, the Universe will Thank you for it!”
