Onward

It was dusk, and shadows from nearby trees stretched across both lanes to land at the feet of the woman walking along the side of the freeway.

In a rush to get home, I was moving too quickly to stop, but slowly enough to notice that she wore nice clothes, carried a small purse, and had beautiful brunette curls that bounced against her shoulders with every step.

When I took the next exit, the girls asked where we were going and I told them that we were turning around so we could offer that woman a ride.  There are no street lights along that stretch of the road, and anyway… she was miles from anywhere decent.  

We pulled up just as she reached the point where two freeways merge into one, and I was relieved to have gotten there before she had to cross two lanes of traffic in semi-darkness.  When I offered her a ride she hesitated, glanced back at the freeway and shivered, delicately, before nodding.

As I drove I snuck a sideways glance at my passenger and saw she was thin, in her early forties and pretty in a quiet way.  She was making her way to the Greyhound bus station.  The local buses had stopped running an hour before, so she had decided to walk.  She hoped she could still catch a bus leaving town.

The woman told me nothing else of herself, not even her name, and I didn’t ask.  She crossed her arms and looked out the window, and I couldn’t help but wonder about the thoughts running through her mind.

The bus station looked deserted as I pulled into the parking lot and I told her I hoped she could still find one tonight.  She sighed, grabbed her purse and a small bag I hadn’t noticed before.  “At least I’m in town now, and not on the freeway.  It was scary out there.” 

For the first time, she looked me full in the face and I saw her bruised right eye, her cut lip.  “Thank you,” she whispered, and opened the door.  At the same moment, we both saw the bloody tissue she had dropped and she snatched it up, quickly. 

“It’s okay,” I said.

And for her, I hope it will be.