The sun rose on a quiet weekend morning. Ridership and traffic were lighter than usual. The first round trip came and went without event. It is days like this when the ghosts of Broward County past come out. The light slants low, the pace of Life is slow, and you get a glimpse of the laid back days when people had time to breathe. And time to care.
We were heading east, but still way out west at University Drive when a 30ish man boarded with a fishing pole. I'm a Florida boy so fishing is in my blood, and I asked if he had a good spot. He was going to Anglin's Pier in Lauderdale-By-The-Sea, forty minutes down the road. His expectations were kept in check.
"I'm not trying to catch a whale."
The pier came into sight not long after we crossed the Intracoastal, which meant it was time for us to turn south on Bougainvilla Drive and make our turn around at Galt Mile. This brought us back on to A1A going north, and to a rest at our layover in front of the Starbucks at 36th St. The wall of condo skyscrapers are all you can see to the east here, but the occasional whiff of salty air reminds you that the Atlantic is beyond them.
Time to go west again, and a couple of stops in we pulled up to a man with both hands cupping beside his eyes, as if to shield for sun glare while squinting at the headsign.
"Are you the 55? I can't see the sign."
The headsign had been blank all day so there was nothing to see there. We shared this stop with Route 11 so I assured him it was the 55. He told me a workplace accident had lodged a sharp object in his eye. He was on his way to the hospital to have it examined.
The next few hours slipped by in a hazy daydream of kids on playgrounds, people walking their dogs, shoppers tending to errands, and all the other activities that sprout on a sleepy Saturday.
My last trip was a short one, eastbound ending at 441 and passing the bus on to my relief. Last trips have a reputation for delaying the bus from a timely arrival. So naturally I wasn't surprised when I spotted an old man in a wheelchair giving it his level best to get to the bus stop. I was already there at University and saw him in the mirror when I was ready to pull away. Since it was the weekend and would be awhile till the next bus came, there was no way I was gonna leave him behind - especially after his valiant effort. He was so excited to catch the bus that he rushed the boarding process, catching his wheel on the edge of the ramp. Now he decided to watch the wheel, sticking his head past the side of the wheelchair perilously close to the door jamb.
'Watch your head!' I advised him, as he was so focused downward.
"You ever try to watch your own head?!" His response was quick, as if he'd used it more than once before.
Our delay was minimal and I still got to the relief point on time. The bus would continue on with a new driver and new riders, picking up where we left off. They'd make their own shadows in the slanting light, hopefully taking time to breathe - and just a little time to care.
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