He needs to get to the hospital, murmured the shivering woman on the roadside, clutching her child close.
The frosty morning air bit at every exposed inch of skin, the sky still pale with the reluctance of dawn. The road glittered thinly under a dusting of frost, as though sprinkled with sugar. There was something crisp and brittle in the airsomething that made you inhale sharply, only to regret it as the cold needled deep into your lungs. Tiny ice crystals formed on noses and cheeks, and for a moment, the world seemed hushed, as if time itself had slowed.
James Thompson, the bus driver, felt at home behind the wheel. Twenty years on this route had made every bend, every pothole, as familiar as the back of his hand. It wasnt a grand motorwayjust a quiet stretch between a village and the nearest town. But to him, it was more than a road; it was a part of his life. The occasional jolt of the wheels over uneven tarmac no longer annoyed himit was just part of the rhythm.
Today, the bus was nearly empty. Two students sat at the back, lost in their headphones and phones, oblivious to the passing landscape. An elderly man with a newspaper fidgeted with his glasses, squinting at an article as if it held some elusive secret. A young couple dozed against each other near the front, bundled in thick coats and scarves.
The bus rolled smoothly over the quiet road, the dull grey sky offering neither sun nor rain, just the kind of weather that made the world feel sluggish. James barely glanced at the familiar scenery. But thensomething caught his eye.
A figure stood by the roadside. A woman. She didnt wave or signaljust stood there, motionless. James squinted. She wore a thin coat, clearly not meant for this weather, and held something bundled in her arms. At first, he thought it was a bag, but as the bus drew closer, he saw the small, pale face of a child. A boy, wrapped in a thick scarf, looking frighteningly still.
Bloody strange, James muttered under his breath, slowing down out of habit.
As the bus pulled level with her, he rolled down the window. You all right, love?
The woman hesitated, as if surprised anyone had noticed her. She stepped forward slightly but didnt meet his eyes. II need a lift, she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
James frowned. In this weather? He almost laughed. The idea of waiting out here for a ride was mad. Even the taxi drivers wouldnt bother in this cold. He was about to drive on when something in her expression stopped him.
Buses run regular, he said. Why freeze yourself half to death?
But the woman only repeated, quieter this time, I need to get to the hospital. My sonhe got worse in the night. I dont have money for a taxi, and the busit wasnt coming.
James glanced again at the boy in her arms. His face was deathly pale, his breathing shallow. No time to think.
Get in, he said, jerking his head toward the door.
She climbed aboard carefully, as if afraid to disturb the child. The warmth of the bus seemed to thaw her slightly, though her lips still trembled. The other passengers glanced at her but said nothing. No one asked the obvious questionswhy she was out here, why she hadnt called for help. But James saw the way their eyes flicked toward her, their unspoken curiosity.
After a moment, the woman spoke again, her voice fragile. My names Emily. Thank you. II didnt know what else to do.
James nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. Dont worry about it. Just focus on getting him seen to.
He didnt press her for details, but as the miles passed, bits of her story slipped out. Her husband had left when the boy was just a baby. Her parents lived too far to help. Shed been on her own, struggling.
Something tightened in his chest. Hed seen hardship beforebut there were moments when it hit harder.
When they reached the hospital, James stopped right at the entrance. Go on, he said. Ill wait.
Emily blinked. Youyou dont have to
Just go, he said, cutting her off gently.
The passengers filed out without complaint, some heading for the café, others lingering outside. No one protested the delay.
James waited. An hour passed, then more. He sipped tea from his thermos, rubbed at the dashboard like it was an old friend. Memories surfacedhis wife, years ago, sick in the middle of winter. A stranger had helped them then. Funny how life circled back.
Finally, Emily reappeared, the boy still in her arms but her shoulders lighter.
Well? James asked.
They gave him medicine, she exhaled. Hell be all right.
James let out a breath he hadnt realised he was holding. Good. Now, lets get you home.
She protested, but he waved her off. Dont be daft. Bus is empty anyway.
The ride back was quiet. The boy stirred awake at one point, eyeing James warily.
You all right there, mate? James asked.
The boy didnt answer, just pressed closer to his mother.
Hes shy, Emily said apologetically.
James nodded. But then she started talkingabout how hard it was raising a child alone, especially in the village. How there was no proper pharmacy, no night buses. James listened. Sometimes, that was all someone needed.
When they reached her stop, she hesitated before stepping off. Thank you, she said softly. I dont know how to repay you.
James shook his head. Just say thanks. Thats enough.
Months later, on the same frostbitten route, Emily was waiting at the stop again. This time, she handed him a small bag. Eggs, milkall from home, she said.
James tried to refuse, but she wouldnt hear it.
Then the boy, peeking out from behind her, whispered, Thank you, mister.
James grinned. That was all the payment he needed.
Kindness always came backeven when you least expected it.
