The Silent Peter

Silva. Blond, youthful and full of life. Well she was at one point in her life. If you look at her long enough you can still see it, the glimmer of hope. A  “let's do this!”  Attitude, a sparkle that says “I can do anything I set my mind to”. Nevertheless, today is not a time for sparkle and glimmer. Silva is a mother to three smaller humans as well as a dog, fully kitted out kitchen and a strong handsome husband to boot! She's set up really, but when she's standing at the bus stop, one arm being pulled left by a 5 year old, the right arm being sneezed on by a 4 year old and a newborn clinging to her middle crying directly in her face, she's in no mode for positive vibes. 

She just wants to get on her bus in one piece and hopefully manage to bring her mini circus on safely. Doing this twice in one day, everyday, without a lost toy or a meltdown from her small humans, is enough achievement for her. 

A bus arrives at Silva’s stop. She braces herself. Unfolds her pram, tells the oldest to step on the bus, but at the last second her 4 year old daughter insists  that she is done with walking for today and must be carried. Silva leans into the bus, places her pram in the carriage, moves her son frustratedly into a seat and with 2 massive bags in her hands and a newborn still strapped to her. She quickly evaluates how to get the last child in. The bus isn't full, but she still doesn't want to keep people waiting. A man stands patiently ,waiting to get on  and she asked him “Is there any chance you could give me a hand and lift my little girl on the bus?”, not being an unusual request as  many of bus passengers have been handed a rogue child, in the aid of helping a struggling mother.

The man looks shocked at the request but compiles, He lifts her up and gets on the bus. Holding her with his hands extended from his body, so that the tiny human doesn't touch off him, or in his mind 'kick/bite him'. At once Silva and her small parade of monkeys are settled on the bus. She turns to the man, now sitting two seats behind. “I really appreciate your help today with my little one, they never really tell you how impossible it is to do normal day things when you've three live suckers strapped to you 24/7.” She laughs. “They?” he asks bewildered.  “Oh, just in general they.” She smiles and turns back round to the attention of her kids.  

Peter, his inner monologue in his head going 90 miles per hour. “That woman spoke to me, that woman looked at me! Did I say the right thing to her? I wonder why she is not looking at me now, hmm ... probably because we finished with our conversation. I wonder who's in charge of stopping and starting conversations? and if it's her, why? I lifted her child so I should be in control of the talking.” he contemplates . A man taps Peter on the shoulder “Sorry can you move aside, this is my stop.”  Peter, who was deep in thought, moves  himself and his a small awkward body to let the man out. 

When the man leaves it means that Peter can slide down the seat and be closer to the window. He places his bag on the other side of the chair, where nobody dares sit next to him. The universal sign for “I may be on a bus, but I don't wanna socialise.” or for the harder folks out there; “Don't even dream of sitting next to me or you'll get a dirty stare.”

Peter brought his attention to the world outside his window. Cars going by, strangers just doing their own thing, buildings with no business of being their taking up space where a tree or maybe a field could be. Peter stared instently. He wasn't a fan of the bus, or the world that passed him while he was in it.  As he was evaluating the world outside the glass  his ears perked up suddenly, to a conversation Sliva was having with one of her kids.

“Mammy had a lot more time on her hands when you weren't around” to a confused little boy with no reason or understanding of time. And of course, Silva said this to her son as a way of explaining how  life was  before he was born. A concept that was so alien to her son, that he started to bully his little sister as a way of fighting away his confusion. Silva battled with the two little warriors. A battle that was won by Sliva after promises  of extra sweets and a later bedtime, the were  more than happy to comply. 

Peter thought about her predicament long and hard, “...more time, she had more time without those kids” Then a great perhaps spiked up in his brain and an idea began to form. An idea so strange that if anyone with half a cup of common sense and compassion, where to think of it, they would seek psychological help. Peter began to watch Silva, her movement, how the kids acted towards her and more importantly he figured out the times when her guard was down. And One would like to think that a mother for three wouldn't need much of a guard up when in  the public eye. 

The bus was traveling a bit faster now, the traffic had gone from the morning rush and Peters’ bus stop was getting closer and closer. He stood up in the middle of the bus and held onto the handrail to make himself stable. Carefully listening  to Silva who was explaining to her son why things that move sometimes look blurry. 

She lifted  her son onto her lap, she did it, he kissed his baby brother. The smallest of the three was who was comfortably wrapped close to Silva's chest. 

“Oh Malcom, that's a lovely kiss you gave your little brother.” She declared blissfully,  he smiled at his mother, so proud of himself for impressing her. He then turned his gaze out the window, he was fascinated. Their small family looked out the window, Peter pushed himself closer to this family. But in a way that looked like the bus had pushed him closer. 

He looked down at a young Amy, red hair, pink cheeks. A little mad because the attention wasn't at her. Peter smiled at the young girl and put out his hand, delighted with this new found attention, she popped her hand into his. 

This interaction went unnoticed to anyone else on the bus. They all saw him get on the bus with her, it wouldn't be too odd for anyone else to assume that she was her daughter. 

The bus stopped and Peter started to walk towards the front of the bus to get out. Casual, no frills about it. Amy trailing behind him, following the adult whose hand you were given wasn't a strange concept to her.  Peter steps down off the bus, and the small girl follows. They stand at the bus shelter as Peter adjusts his backpack. 

The bus pulls off and Amy waves to her mother. 

Once her mother spots her, you see her begin to scream inside the bus. But the bus continues to drive. Silva hysterically pushes her body to the front of the bus to tell the driver. 

Peter and Amy watch the bus drive off and she looks up to him and asks

“How come mommy didn't get off the bus too?” and he replied,

“She needed a little more time to herself.”