The Man Covered in Snow

His breath, puffs of white mist, billow out from between ice-cold fingertips. The bus was late, as usual. And he was earlier, as usual. Alone in the small plastic hut, the man stomps both feet to keep his toes warm. Living in perpetual winter had its quirks, but the man found the silence comforting, blankets of snow covering the ground in a loving caress. The man hears the bus trudging along, slow and steady. As he boards, the man smiles at the quiet bus driver. Her name is Sheila. He found out by accident last month after riding this bus every day for two years. 

The driver tipped her hat, acknowledging the man’s fortitude in such cold weather. Taking his customary seat directly behind the driver, the man keeps his head down, refusing to meet the gaze of other passengers. He hates that. People being nosy for no good reason. If there is no reason to bother someone, then don’t. As his mama always said, “Either shut your mouth or turn your head.” The man loved that mantra. It was simple. Easy. Addicting. 

After exactly forty-five minutes, the man pulls the STOP line, signaling the driver. Sheila slows the bus down but shoots the man a confused look. She knows his commute still has thirty minutes left to go. Gazing out the large window, Sheila notices the STOP is right in front a quaint general store. He was in the middle of the old downtown area. Maybe getting a coffee or meeting someone. 

The man sighs heavily, lifting his head to give Sheila a nod goodbye. The driver waves in return, confusion still plastered on her weathered face. The man hops off the last stair, listening to the tut-tut of the bus picking itself back up before resuming its lazy trudge through the snow. Walking up to the general stores glass door, the man narrows his eyes, searching through the dim light until he spots a friend. Stepping into the shop, the man smiles as his best friend shuffles over to the sound of the tinkling bell. 

“Henry, my friend. Come in, out of that dreary cold! My good friend, Henry!” Matthias exclaims. Two patrons, looking through the candy aisle, stare inquisitively at the store owner. Matthias turns to reassure them of Henry's quick visit. The young patrons, after examining Henry, grin and nod at Matthias. Winking, he gives them two pieces of free candy to add to their growing bundle. 

Th general store splits down the middle, one side housing store items while the other runs like a small café. Barbara, the barista, smiles at the two men as Matthias pulls out Henry’s chair. She quickly makes the snow-covered Henry hot tea, adding two teaspoons of sugar and three biscuits, his favorite. The man takes a sip and groans in delight. Barbara was always too good to him. 

“You must be so cold, sir.” she smiles warmly. 

“Very much so, Barbara. Thank you, as always.”

The woman nods, turning to greet a set of customers piling through the door. Matthias takes the seat in front of Henry, stirring his own lukewarm tea, peering out from the large window. The two men sit in silence for a while, enjoying each other's company, requiring nothing but a chummy quiet between sips of tea.

“Henry, how are you?”

“I am fine. A wisp of myself but fine.”

“I truly am so happy that our friendship has not affected us after death.”

“Oh yes, I agree.” Henry pauses, taking one last sip of tea.

"What is wrong, Henry? You seem pensive."

“It is strange, knowing I am being created as we speak. My words flowing at someone’s whim.”

“Yes, yes. It is strange, although I truly cannot understand your predicament.”

“I do not expect anyone to understand. My whole life has been written from the eyes of someone else.”

Matthias shrugs, throwing his friend a lopsided grin. Henry chuckles, gazing into the bottom of his teacup. How could Matthias understand this feeling, especially when he has freedom. Suddenly, soft footsteps enter the quiet scene. 

“Ah, my favorite man. Matthias, how are you?” a sweet, melodic voice rings out. 

“Veronica! Why, what a great surprise!” Matthias calls cheerily, standing up to surround the woman in a gentle hug. 

“I see you are sitting alone. May I join you?” the beautiful woman asks.

“Oh, well, I am busy right now, my dear. I am having tea with an old friend.” 

Veronica tips her head in confusion, looking at the empty seat with its empty teacup. Barbara, noticing the situation, hurries over to whisper in Veronica’s ear. After a moment, the gorgeous woman nods, confusion melting into acceptance. She understands the situation. She quickly thanks Barbara before turning back to Matthias. 

“It seems I was unaware this is your private time to decompress Matthias. I am very sorry to have disrupted it. I can imagine the store must be hard to run with just you and Barbara every day! I will take my leave for now.” 

After a goodbye and promises to come back again, Veronica leaves the shop. 

“Oh Matty, you could have let her stay. A pretty lady like that.”

“No, no. I barely get to see you, my friend. Your spirit cannot stay on this earth much longer. I want to cherish our time together until the last moment.”

“You are too good to me.”

“If I was good, I would have been there when you passed.”

“No, that is impossible. I was fated to hike alone that day. I should have double checked my supplies and reconsidered after seeing the weather reports. But it was not written.”

“Authors must be fickle. To create a life, mold the character then cast them off.”

“Maybe. But now I will say with much despair and sadness, that I can feel the strings controlling my fate being snipped as we speak.”

“But Henry, you cannot go! What will I do without you? Can you not fight it?”

“I don’t know Matty. Oh, creator, can I please have one more moment with a dear friend?” Henry pauses, waiting for a sign of my response. He will get it.

 “It seems I can say just a few more words.”

“Oh Henry, no!”

“You have been a great friend to me, all these years. Run your store, keep living your life and say yes to Veronica if she asks to sit here again. For now, my friend, I must move on, for my creator is reaching the word limit.”