It started with big fat drops then, in less than a minute, it was pouring. I was standing at the bus stop and of course I hadn’t brought an umbrella with me because it wasn’t raining when I left the office, and surely that thunder I’d heard just before I turned my computer off didn’t mean anything. And the thunder I heard as I was getting in the elevator didn’t mean anything. And, well, the flash of lightning and the peal of thunder as I was leaving the building where I work made me think I should go back and get an umbrella, but I didn’t want to risk missing the bus. There’s really no way to know when the bus will show up–yes, there’s a schedule, but it’s rarely right in good weather. If it’s raining count on waiting at least half an hour for a bus that comes every twenty minutes. There was no cover around the bus stop, but on the other side of the intersection was a dry cleaner’s with a broad awning over their parking lot. I’d have to stand behind one of the supports and lean out partly into the rain to keep an eye out for the bus, but it beat standing out in the open. It was also about thirty feet from the bus stop and ten feet back from the sidewalk which meant I risked being passed by, but, again, better than standing out in the open. It was also raining hard enough that the driver might not have seen me even if I’d been standing at the bus stop. And I appreciated the irony of getting out the rain by taking shelter at a dry cleaner’s. Sometimes the universe gives you these small gifts.
It was still raining when I saw the bus coming. In fact it was raining so hard I could barely make it out by its headlights and the bright green LED route number over the windshield. I leapt out onto the sidewalk and waved. The bus came to a stop so I didn’t get splashed. The doors opened. As I stepped on the driver asked, “Where’d you come from?”
“Mother always said I came from Heaven,” I said, smiling shyly. It’s a line I don’t often get a chance to use, but sometimes the universe gives you these small gifts.