Chance

Shelby Montgomery was waiting for her bus when the black rain cloud that had been threatening to break open finally released its wet contents. It was so sudden that, while expecting the rain to happen, Shelby hadn’t been prepared. She struggled with her umbrella now. The handle was resisting her slippery hands, now wet with the falling rain, as she fumbled with the object. It was infuriating and now, here was the bus. Paying her fare and finding a seat, the newly drenched Shelby looked around. The happy couple - also rain soaked - who must’ve gotten on the bus at her stop; the dry and well put together elderly lady checking her lipstick, her umbrella ready for when she departed the bus; the twenty-something male studying intently from a book as if his life depended on it. Shelby hated them all at first glance. All these people seemed to have purpose, a place in life where they belonged. They knew how to handle themselves and a trivial rainstorm and yet Shelby was alone and practically falling apart over the damn thing. Tentatively, she took out the pocket mirror from her dripping purse. Sure enough, her eye makeup was running down her face, her hair looked frightful, and her already sagging skin seemed to be allowing gravity to take it down even more.

Sixty-five and nothing to show for it, thought Shelby. Enviously, she stole a glance at the young couple again. They didn’t look awful from the rain. Then again, they had youth on their side. Youth and that elusive thing called love if she could go by the looks of it. The girl was positively rosy-cheeked as she leaned toward the boy. They exchanged a glance that was reserved only for lovers. They couldn’t have been more than twenty-five. Shelby was basically three times their age and she fumed inside pondering that one.

Not once in her sixty-five years on the planet had she experienced love. There was the handsome boss she’d worked for at her previous job. How she’d hoped that feeling of longing she’d had for him had gone somewhere! But alas, it hadn’t. Mr. Hubert McCann wasn’t married, but he clearly wasn’t interested in Shelby. She’d made several advances, the last of which had cost her her job. She was always having this type of awful luck! All she had done was ask Mr. McCann on a bowling date. When he’d said he really didn’t bowl and smiled, Shelby had felt that familiar feeling of fury. Was he actually smiling about rejecting her? She wouldn’t - couldn’t - have that! So she’d told him she hated his obvious toupée and that she wouldn’t want to be seen bowling with him if her life depended on it. “Couldn’t you recognize my sarcasm in inviting you anywhere?”

She’d asked him that just before he uttered the gutting words, “You will need to find employment elsewhere, Ms. Montgomery. You have two weeks to do so. And even if you don’t, you will still be terminated in your employment here in that time.”

Desperate, floundering attempts at damage control had fixed nothing; she only felt worse and worse as she begged for her pathetic stocking job back. These things always seemed to happen to her! Yes. The rain most certainly matched her mood. Matched her life, for that matter.

Unable to bear watching the lovebirds anymore, Shelby’s glance went back to the elderly lady sitting with her nice, dry clothes with her perfect makeup and pristine, manicured hands. She has no troubles, thought Shelby. The wealthy always have it so easy. The woman looked up at her and caught her eye, giving a kindly smile. Shelby twisted her mouth in an effort to form an insincere smirk and quickly looked elsewhere.

The boy with the textbook was still looking intently in it. As if the answer to his entire life was confined within the pages. It was extremely annoying. Who do you think you are? she asked the boy silently. Oh, he’ll become something alright. Become something and maybe have both the things she so detested in the other bus passengers she’d seen thus far - wealth and love. Gross.

The bus stopped. A lone man boarded and took a seat near Shelby. She cursed under her breath. The last thing she wanted was to have to talk to anyone, especially now! But curiosity got the better of her and she found herself looking into a pair of inquisitive hazel eyes. Without a word, the man handed her a clean, dry handkerchief. “Do you carry towels around with you wherever you go?” asked Shelby sharply. The man gave her a questioning look and then told her that she looked unhappy and it seemed she’d like to dry off a little.

“Oh,” she began, “Yes, I suppose I look dreadful like this.” And without a word of thanks, Shelby began to dry her face off and searched her purse for her mirror compact again. Upon finding that, she got to work on herself.

With her green eyes, nearly black hair, and high cheekbones, there was a time when Shelby Montgomery hadn’t been a bad-looking woman at all. Although she’d never had actual suitors, she had experienced several admirers in her day and had found each one of them pathetic and unsuitable.

She started to hand the hanky back to the mysterious man, but he pushed it away and said, “No, you keep it. You need it more than I.”

Incredulous, she wanted to tell this guy what an absolute mess he, himself, was and that he most definitely needed to clean up. Instead, though, Shelby silently took the delicate square and shoved it into her messy purse. He doesn’t deserve it, anyway, Shelby thought now.

Stealing another glance at the lovebirds on the bus, Shelby scowled. They were getting ready to get off at the next stop. A clear expression of contempt on her face, Shelby turned toward the man. He smiled kindly, “They do seem a little public with their affection, don’t they?” he offered with what sounded almost like amusement in his voice. Finally someone who understood!

She was about to answer in the affirmative when the man said, “But that’s why youth is for the young. I’d never want to go back.”

She wanted to tell this man that she not only wanted to be their tender age, but experience their youthful encounter. Why had time been so cruel to her? What had she to show for herself? Shelby could feel her anger rising again.

Leaning towards her, the tall man said, “Perhaps you will allow me to introduce myself. My name’s Chance.”

What the hell kind of a name was Chance? Shelby scoffed silently and the man told her that he knew things about people that others did not.

“Really?” the annoyed woman answered now. “What can you tell me about me? I can guarantee you you’ll be wrong.”

“Possibly,” answered Chance scratching his black head. Shelby noticed for the first time that he, too, seemed out of place with his slicked-back 1920s style hair. Giving her a hard look, Chance continued, “I think I’ll be quite accurate in my assessments of you, my dear lady.”

Unable to resist, Shelby allowed this strange man to offer his opinions of her. After all, Shelby Montgomery’s favorite subject was herself.

“You don’t like the rain,” Chance began.

“Obviously,” came Shelby’s sarcastic retort.

“You equally dislike the sun, the warmth, the cold, the snow, the morning, the evening…”

“Hey, what is this?” now Shelby was more annoyed than ever.

“It’s the truth,” said Chance. “What if I were to tell you that I know your name? I know your story and why it’s unfolded so unhappily.”

That got her attention.

“Why?” The word was barely audible as the walls came down from the distressed woman and sheer vulnerability shone through.

“You have lost your path in life. For a long time now, you’ve lost your way. You have come to hate everyone and everything before you even give them a chance. “How can one experience a life of joy when that person is filled with hatred for all things on this earth?”

“Oh, you’re looking for money for some charity or something. Right?”

“Not at all, Madame.”

Shelby couldn’t decide whether being called “Madame” thrilled or angered her. No one had ever called her that before.

She decided to use her default answer, “You’re annoying! Please leave me alone!”

The elderly woman looked up at Shelby, surprised. “Was I bothering you, Dear?”

“What? No. This stupid Chance man was.” Shelby gestured toward the tall, dark man sitting directly across from her.

“The Chance man? What does that mean? There’s…well, pardon me, but there’s no one there.”

Shelby looked over at Chance again who winked conspiratorially at her. She rudely pointed at him as she told the woman that the man she was referring to was right there.

The older woman shook her head and looked slightly concerned. “Oh dear,” she said now. “My vision has been deteriorating for quite some time now, but I can still see people. Perhaps you’d like to join me at my book club meeting at Sam’s Coffee Shop this morning? Meet the ladies. I know what it’s like to feel lonesome.”

“You think I’m lonely!” now Shelby was screaming loudly enough for all her hated fellow bus riders to stop and stare at her. “I’m not surprised that you’ve been lonely, you old hag! But I’m not!” Her fury had gotten to her once again and even Chance raised his eyebrows in surprise at Shelby’s public outburst.

He leaned in and suggested that maybe she should join the woman. “And you can start by apologizing to her,” added Chance.

“Who are you? Why can’t that woman see you? Why should I apologize to someone who has just insulted me?” Shelby’s questions came fast and furiously.

Chance looked thoughtful, then shook his head. “You’d know the answers to your queries more than I. But I will present it to you like this: everyone has his or her own perspective on things. You have yours, she has hers, they have theirs,” he gestured around the bus to include everyone on it. “There is no simple truth - no right or wrong - in a person’s perspective.” Chance looked at Shelby pointedly, “But perhaps if you altered yours, you might find that not all things in life are miserable.”

Just as Shelby was about to raise her voice again, she stopped herself. In a quieter tone, she asked the man, “You think that my perspective is wrong and everyone else’s is right?” She was seething.

“I do not,” said Chance simply and unexpectedly. “ No one is all right, nor is anyone all wrong. But when you open your heart to others and try to see things as they do…well, you might just find that they like you a little more. And you might like them more, also. Most importantly, you might even start liking yourself.” Chance’s stare was intent as his eyes bored into hers, then he repeated, “Life doesn’t have to be miserable.”

Shelby looked down at her weathered hands and then back at the man, only to find that he’d disappeared.

She looked over to the elder lady and noticed she was gathering up her things as if preparing to get off the bus soon. Shelby went over to her and did something she’d never done before. She apologized. Sincerely. Then burst into tears as her emotions came flowing out. It was as if Chance had allowed her to access feelings she hadn’t dared acknowledge for years.

The woman (whose name was Daisy, Shelby had discovered), was gracious and understanding. She’d decided to accept Daisy’s invite to the cafe, after all. They climbed off the bus together while Daisy covered them both with her umbrella. For the first time in too long, Shelby remembered how much she’d wanted to be included. Maybe this group would be a good start. Shelby wasn’t sure. But she was certain that she’d never know the answer if she didn’t take the chance.