every time the bus stopped, which he obviously felt, he reached out his hand to the man on the bus who was helping him, expecting it to be his stop. that man grabbed the deaf and blind man's hand every time to let him know, "no, not yet." the helping man, however, reached his stop, and got off. but still, every time that bus stopped, the deaf and blind man reached his weathered, wrinkly hand out for someone who wasn't there. i thought about that hand. it looked cold, and, oddly, it looked wise. it looked like that hand could tell more stories than the man himself. i wanted to go up and help the man, but the front of the bus was full; standing room only. so i figured "oh, someone will help him. there's a couple of people still up there who knew his situation." but no one helped him. every time he reached out, there wasn't a soul there to grab it.
we drove through fife, obviously far past his destination, if it was in fact even there. we drove all the way to the transit center on commerce street. a few stops prior, the bus driver had phoned pierce transit to let them know of the man, who was need of "special assistance." the driver directed him off the bus when we got there, and handed him off to two pierce transit staff.
i sit here wondering what ever happened to that man. did he ever reach his destination? did he just give up and go home? who would just drop him off and leave him? more importantly, i wonder how one can be so trusting to the point where they depend on total strangers for help? i imagine it's a hit and miss thing. i'm thinking about the amount of times on the bus that he reached out and no one grabbed his hand to help compared to the times someone, one person, did. i wish i could i have been closer to him, to grab his hand, to let him know someone cared and someone was there to help.