The Kindness of a Tiny Stranger
As he walked up to his regular bus stop on his commute to work, Will was struck by how busy it was that Tuesday morning. There were commuters, school children and mothers with pushchairs huddled together trying to stay out of the rain. He stood near enough the bus stop to make it clear he was waiting for a bus, but not too close so as to scare the ladies and children.
Will was a large man and was well aware of his proportions. At six foot four, he towered over most people. His hands and feet were significantly above average in size. Ever since a series of sudden growth spurts when he was a teenager, Will started becoming conscious of his size. He was neither thin nor fat, but simply bulky.
Will was born within the normal size percentile; eight pounds, two ounces and twenty inches long. He was, however, a hungry baby. He fed and fed. Will’s appetite kept up as he grew. By the time he was twelve years old, he was already taller and larger than all the children in his class. By the time he was sixteen, he was pushing six foot, stood tall over everybody in his family and ate enough for two sixteen year old boys. Will has, throughout his life, had to adjust to a world that was made neither for the very short nor for the very tall. He has had to stoop through doorways, steer clear of scaffolding, watch his head on public transport, try to somehow fold his legs on airplanes and always be told that the shop didn’t have the shoes he liked in his size. He has had to get used to men staring, women being suspicious and children being fearful. He has had to live with people in a society which assumed that because he looked imposing that he was aggressive, a monster well matched with his giant exterior.
On this rainy Tuesday, Will kept to himself as usual and tried to ignore the tense women and gawking children. He was listening to the UK Top 40 chart; even at age 30 he felt a little too old for it, but mostly he was hoping that his shoes and socks wouldn’t be soaked through like the last time the bus was late on a rainy day. As more people joined the huddle at the bus stop, it was looking increasingly likely that the bus was indeed going to be late. Another group arrived at the bus stop. It consisted of some school children, around twelve years old. Tom could tell by their uniforms that they were from the very good grammar school around the corner from his office. The four boys were roughly pushing one another around and three girls had their heads close together as they chatted and giggled amongst themselves.
The rain continued to steadily fall and the road was getting wetter and wetter. Each time a car or bus went past, Tom anticipated a splash. As the splashes were getting bigger, the boys were getting increasingly more rough. They started running around the bus stop, unfazed by the splashing of their shoes in the small puddles, and pushing each other hard. This seemed to be a new game; instead of playing tag or catch, once one boy caught up with another, he would give his friend a great big push. The boy being pushed would then try his best not to fall over.
Although they tried to avoid Will, at least to begin with, they did nothing to avoid other people at the bus stop. One of the boys nearly bumped into one of the push chairs. Some of the mothers looked uncomfortable and shuffled closer together. Young school girls avoided all eye contact with the boys and Will became acutely aware of the careless nature in which they were playing. Hoping for a bus to arrive, Will leaned forward a little to look down the street. Before he knew it he was suddenly pushed from behind, and as though in slow motion fell, face first, onto the pavement in front of him. When he came around, Will became conscious of the fact that he was lying on his front on the pavement, with most of the people at the bus stop looking at him. As he tried to get himself up off the ground, he felt disoriented and a bit dizzy. He also noticed quickly that people had backed off slightly and there was an increasing amount of space between him and the others. Instead of standing, Will was only able to sit himself on the spot. He looked around, trying to get his bearings back when he felt the fast drip of a nose bleed. He looked down at the ground and sure enough, blood was streaming onto the ground. It was as though everything was still happening in slow motion. Will slowly considered what he should do about his nose bleed as everybody around the bus stop got further away, almost standing in their original places before he had fallen.
Nobody offered him a tissue, or help in standing. Nobody offered to call an ambulance or even asked him if he was hurt. If someone arrived at the bus stop at that moment, they could easily have noticed nothing out of the ordinary, except for Will on the ground of course. The bus stop was filled with and surrounded by mothers with their children, the other workers and the school children and Will was still on the ground, trying to stop a nosebleed with his sleeves. A bus arrived, going through a large puddle and splashing Will, making him almost entirely wet.
Around a third of the people who had been waiting at the bus stop boarded that bus, all walking around Will as though he wasn’t there, and still nobody offered any assistance. New people arrived at the bus stop and they didn’t appear to question why a man was sitting on the floor, wet, with blood streaming out of his nose.
Will slowly stood up and looked for his bag, which he finally worked out, had been thrown a couple of metres away. Nobody had picked that up either. He walked over to it and bent over to pick it up. As he took the bag, still hunched over, Will noticed that a little girl had approached him and with her big, brown eyes, looked directly into his own. He froze; nobody had ever looked him in the eye and now this little lady, no more than four years old was looking at him like he existed; like he didn’t scare her. He saw that she had extended her hand with a tissue. He slowly straightened up but remained kneeling and took the tissue.
“Thank you very much,” he finally said gently, moved almost beyond words.
“Are you OK?” she asked him, her eyes searching his for reassurance that he wasn’t hurt.
Will smiled, his heart filling with joy that almost overwhelmed him.
“Yes, I think so. Thank you for asking,” he replied before adding, on a whim, “what’s your name?”
“Tilly. Matilda but Tilly for short. What’s yours?”
“I’m Will. William but Will for short,” he retorted, enjoying how cute she was.
“Did you get hurt?” she asked inquisitively with genuine concern in her voice.
“I just got a bit of a shock and a little nosebleed but I’m not hurt. How old are you Tilly?”
“I’m four. It was my birthday last week.”
“Wow, happy birthday! Did you have a party?”
“I had a big party, with a bouncy castle and a magician. And cake!”
Before Will and Tilly could continue their conversation, Tilly’s mum appeared behind Tilly looking unimpressed. In fact, when Tilly got scolded for straying at all, it became clear that her mum had not even known that she had gone over to help Will.
“Come on Tilly, we don’t speak to strangers,” she said, starting to drag Tilly away by the arm, looking at Will as though he had led her away with terrible intentions.
“But Will is my friend!” Will heard Tilly cry.
Will felt the humiliation and shame rise up through his body at the familiar realisation that this is how women perceived him. As a predator, a danger to their daughters. In what reality could a thirty year old man be friends with a four year old girl who, incidentally, was the only person to extend a helping hand to him at a time of need? Not this one. This was the reality in which, out of twenty people spanning all ages, the only person who stepped forward to help was a four year old girl. The reality in which someone who looked different was treated differently and it was as simple as that. Hearing that Tilly already considered Will a friend poured delight into him that he didn’t know he could feel.
As his bus approached, Will hoped that Tilly would be allowed to grow into the thoughtful and unprejudiced young lady she could become. The edges of his joy became tinged with sadness as Will’s hope of this becoming a reality wilted like a parched flower.
