He thought (and then it was repeated many times in later days) that a bus without passengers was not really a bus, like a house without furniture wasn't really a house or a locomotive without cars wasn't really a train.. There was something sad about driving around the city with no one or almost no one to take from one place to another.. At first, he didn't perceive it that way. At first, He even came to enjoy the new situation that was presented to him.. I had to go to work every day, Of course, and that bothered him a lot, but now, It was said that it was better this way. It was not the same as driving calmly with hardly any discomfort that diverted your attention from the road., of the schedules, of traffic lights and traffic signs, having to put up with people's constant impertinences, like I did before: that guy who shows up late and assumes you have an obligation to wait for him, or the impatience of that other person who gets upset because you don't open the back door for him just the second he demands it., the bad mood of that other one who goes up distracted, talking on his mobile phone, and on top of that he gets offended because you point out that he has to pay a ticket, or the unfriendly face that that individual gives you when, when you arrive at your stop, You tell him that you are full and he must wait for the next bus (those are the ones who get the most angry)… No, I didn't miss him.
She has never felt so relaxed doing her job.. Circulating through those streets practically empty of traffic allowed him to do things with a serenity that he had not known until that moment., fulfilling your schedule without rushing, without suffering shocks, without being forced to make sudden maneuvers because of the uneven pace of traffic or because of the thousand and one tricks that people did behind the wheel of their private cars. She was so relaxed that sometimes she forgot what she was doing and let her imagination fly., seeing herself as the character in that movie she liked so much (“You have always liked very strange movies”, a friend had told him; and it was true, She liked “weird” movies., with strange people, Like her), writing some beautiful poem in her head that she would later transcribe in a small notebook that she carried in her bag. But she wasn't one to write poems.. some prose, Yeah. A bit. A few stray lines here and there. He once wrote a complete story. (that he didn't teach anyone). But poetry was a more serious thing and he had never even dared to try it..
The first time he got on the bus he already noticed him. It was a boy his age, approximately. Average height, shoulders drooping due to the weight of the backpack he was carrying on his back, His face did not stand out for anything that made it especially notable.. In fact, although later I would see him every day, was surprised when, after, at home, verified that, like those songs you've heard many times, but whose melody you cannot remember, No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't specify any details.. That was very strange. Maybe that's what really drew your attention to him., the fact that, seeing him every day, then I wouldn't remember what it was like. That and what, despite the fact that the boy could have the entire bus to himself thanks to the general confinement, will always sit in the last row, at the bottom of the vehicle. That was also very strange. Ella, that she was also naturally a little shy and used to avoid people, I could understand that the boy was looking for some privacy, but that seemed too extreme a position and, even, somewhat offensive. Was he trying to get as far away from her as possible??, thought. Did you dislike your company that much??
What I would remember later is that the boy always took the same route. It went up about five or six stops from the beginning of the route and got off another four stops later.. The first times, This didn't catch his attention that much.. But later, something in the way you walk, in that almost flaccid way of addressing, made him think that, In fact, I wasn't going anywhere specific. Maybe he was only taking that trip for the pleasure of walking around that empty city., to clear up, or to liven up that endless routine a little. And given the current mobility restrictions imposed by the government, She thought it was an unforgivable lack of respect., not against the government itself, Of course, but against the rest of the people who strictly complied with the quarantine, even thinking about reporting it to the police if, after a while, I could not establish the relationship between the starting point and the arrival point, and if that final destination sufficiently justified his being on the street at that time of the morning. That had her obsessed for days.. It was one thing to have to go to work., like other passengers, or go visit a relative who needs it, and another breaking the rules out of pure whim, it was said.
But the really strange thing happened about four or five days after their first meeting.. He got on at the same stop as always and did the same thing as always when getting off.. So far no problem. But the fact is that, two stops after leaving the car, took it again. Ella, that he was not expected to see him until the next day, stayed, for a moment, bewildered. How did he get there so fast??, it was said. Would someone have picked him up in a car to take him to that new point on the route?? According to his calculations and considering the speed at which the bus was traveling, That maneuver was physically impossible for an ordinary person like him.. He looked around quickly, but he did not see anyone who could have served as an accomplice in the operation. But, above all, The question that was on his mind was, why had he done it? Where was I going now?? Was he making fun of her?? In part, I would have liked to ask you all this, but, on the other hand, She was restricted by the idea that he would reproach her for getting involved in matters that, clearly, They were none of their business..
The problem worsened in the following days.. Sometimes I picked him up at the same stop as always. (what was the usual stop?) and he did the usual thing when he came down. Others, changed both the starting point and the arrival point. However, the most extraordinary thing about the case, There were days when I could pick him up at any point on route two., three and even four different times. She was missed (for that and because he still couldn't remember the boy's face when he arrived home at the end of his shift.), and although on several occasions she was about to approach him and ask him, at the last moment, he didn't dare to do it. Because? What was stopping her?? Does the virus? No. It would have been enough to maintain the necessary distance between the two to safeguard against possible contagion.. for a moment, He thought that the case was going to be solved that time when two police officers he met at one of the stops on his itinerary got into the car.. Although she didn't say anything about the boy, He assumed that his unreal appearance would be enough of a clue to attract the attention of the agents who would end up interrogating him., as I had seen done other times on the street with those stray pedestrians who still refused to respect the State of Alarm. But just as they got on the bus, and after chatting with her for a while, The two police officers left without saying anything.. They hadn't even seen it.
From that moment, She stopped speculating about him.. They never said anything. He got on the bus as many times as he wanted. (always paying your corresponding ticket) and sat in the back. After a week, He was no longer even surprised that no other passenger, with whom she did cross a phrase, will notice your presence. One day, the two of them were alone on the bus, she at the wheel and he sitting in his usual place. She took her gaze off the street for a second and looked at him through the rearview mirror on her side., above your head, crowning the front window of the vehicle. So, he did something new. Maybe knowing you were being watched, raised his head, he looked at her and smiled. nothing was the same anymore.
The funniest thing is that, when he went off course, no one tried to stop her. Nor did anyone intervene when, finally, decided, in an impulse, overcome the limits of that empty city. where are we going?, he asked himself at one point. But the question quickly disappeared from his mind and he did not ask it again.. Just kept driving. While, he is still sitting in the back of the car. He never says anything and, she knows, he has never looked at her again (although he has no way of knowing what he does when, road slope, she doesn't look at him). One day he was about to tell him that, the night before his departure, he had finally dared to write a little poem. It wasn't a very good poem., I was clear about that. But it was his poem and, somehow, she was proud of having tried to write it. It started like this:
A bus without passengers is not a bus,
like a house without furniture is not a house
or a locomotive without cars will never be a train.
