Bus Shelter
The Homeless Lady
Unlike most people I have been working from home since January 2019. Part of my keeping sane strategy has been a daily morning walk, weather permitting, sometimes up to an hour and a half; longer if I stop to buy provisions. Almost from the beginning I noticed someone had made a temporary home for themselves in one of the bus shelters along the way. It was a good spot. There were public toilets close by and the shelter had a sunny aspect most of the day. There was also a park nearby. In the shelter itself there were the usual signs; shopping bags, luggage, a small trolley and a person hiding under a voluminous puffer jacket. It wasn’t until much later that I realised the person was a lady.
I say lady and not woman because she seemed to be a recent resident of the streets, formerly well to do and middle class. Her belongings, though a little battered, seemed quite new. And when I caught glimpses of her, the worst I could say was that her long curly hair was a little unkempt. Understandable really. I would guess she was somewhere in her 40s. I thought of saying something to her, but then, possibly because I was taking my walks a little later, I did not see her in the shelter anymore even though all her belongings were still there.
Time passed and I came to expect the sight of the baggage in the bus shelter; they were part of the landscape. Occasionally I would wonder how she came to be there and even made up scenarios in my head for later use. That was until Covid-19, when I started seeing her every day, no matter the time of day. I kept thinking about her story. Was she working? Had now lost her job? If she was working wasn’t it enough for rent? I really wanted to say something, but her body language, covering her head, and making every attempt to be unseen, told me that I would be crossing a boundary that would possibly distress her.
Until finally one day I saw her feet and it seemed to jolt me into action. She was wearing court shoes, panty hose and a modest skirt. Maybe she’d gone for a job interview. I made up my mind to try and do something. When I got home, I phoned all the charitable agencies I could think of. It only took 4 attempts and eventually I found a contact that said they would send someone over to talk to her.
The very next day she was gone. The bus shelter was empty. That was all it took, just a phone call. Really? Why didn’t I try earlier? Why the reticence? It is possible that she was moved on by the police or similar but that would be too big a coincidence. I really did start to question myself. There are many advantages to living in a big city but one of the first things to go is our attachment to our neighbours and their welfare. Why did it take me so long to act?
It is an awful feeling to find yourself injured or compromised somehow with no one to turn to. I had experienced it myself once, I fainted on a train. Standing near the doors I felt it coming on and comically turned to one of my fellow passengers and said, ‘sorry, I’m going to faint.’ And down I went. I woke up about 5 minutes later, near as I could tell. I had been moved. Someone had pulled me out of the way of the doors, but I was still lying on the dirty compartment floor, an older lady looking disdainfully down at me. I got up and dusted myself off and went about my business. After that incident I had always hoped I would be the person that would reach out and help.
I have been checking the bus stop every day since hoping it stays empty. Today, about a week later, the suitcase and the shopping bags were there again. Maybe it was not her. Maybe the help she got was not permanent because all the public housing or homeless shelters are full. Maybe.
