Waiting at the Rideau Center to get on the number five, is a woman with short, spiky hair. She spits on the sidewalk, tossing her head so that her rattail is cast into motion. She’s solidly built, this woman. Maybe she lifts weights. Her posture suggests that she’d be delighted if somebody challenged her to a fight. A complex network of tattoos and piercings are visible, all suggesting a want for transformation, of mastering one’s own body.
About a dozen people get on the bus, here, including an Asian girl who carefully cradles a box that advertises Tim Horton’s doughnuts. All the passengers keep looking at the box, of the picture of doughnuts on the box. They all want to eat one, it’s obvious, but I’m not convinced the box is full of doughnuts. She’s holding it with such delicacy and tenderness that I think it might contain a baby bird that she wants to mother.
A woman who looks like she might hangout at Big Daddy’s Crab Shack gets on the bus. She’s slightly angry looking, as if her boss might just have it in for her. After her difficult and stressful work day, she consoles herself by knocking back a couple of Caesars on Elgin Street.
Two high school students with style talk without pause. They’re discussing Barbara Gowdy’s novel The White Bone and The Arcade Fire. They’re alive, these two, blessed with excellent haircuts and the freedom afforded by good health and active minds. Up front, sits a gaunt man who’s wearing a red ball cap. He looks fragile, like it’s a bit of an ordeal for him to be out. He glances around warily, nervous, as if physical contact with other passengers might present a danger.
The Montfort hospital is on this route. The patchy hair beneath his hat suggests he’s battling an illness.
The bus turns right onto Riverdale, entering a nice residential area. The houses are set back and up, giving the street an air of opulence and grandeur. The two students get off here, as does the man with the red hat. Moving very slowly and uncertainly, he coughs into the back of his hand while the boys stride up a side street, moving forward.
Canadian Geese inhabit a park near Billings Bridge. It’s their territory. The invasion was successful and they’ve reclaimed their rightful land.
Off of Heron, the bus snakes through areas with names like Alta Vista Heights. Above the A & M Confectionary, a man trudges up the stairs to his apartment. Past bungalows and road hockey, we return to Bank Street.
Here, a guy plays a game to keep himself amused. Without holding anything for support, he stands in the aisle and sees if he can maintain his balance while the bus lurches about. It’s like he’s surfing, riding a wave into shore.
A boy with a Batman knapsack strapped to his back hurries onto the bus. His mother is calm and stoic. Sitting quietly beside him, she projects dignity. It’s clear that she doesn’t have to say much to make him behave. She just has to shoot him a look. When they get off, near the bridge, he immediately runs at the Geese in the park, shouting and waving his arms about. The geese were not moved, having seen his type before. His mother shoots him a look and he puts his arms down, returning to her, obedient and calm.
A woman reads her horoscope in the paper, wondering what secrets the stars hold. She looks like she might be a Leo. “Fasten your seat belt! The pace of your daily life is definitely going to accelerate in the next four to six weeks!”