“Hi, Peaches.”

“Here you go, Peaches.”

“Hi, Peaches.”

“Here you go, Peaches.”

“Why’re you always late!” His voice ranted.

 

I cannot believe that you would be irked by him.

I cannot believe that you were willing to hold the bus,

to call your superiors

because this big, black man with the dreads and bubble jacket

is getting under your skin

like an itch that won’t go away or

like a scab on your loose black skin that you keep on picking,

wanting to be rid of it, despite knowing it will eventually come back.

 

You held the bus, you called your boss,

You put everyone on hold for one man—

one man, who boarded your bus

with nothing but hurtful words

knowing that you can’t resist encouraging him to go on

by replying back, falling for his trap;

one man who, after boarding,

after provoking you to hold the bus for a mere five minutes,

got off at the next stop,

(which was arguably a distance he could have traveled

in minutes with his lazy feet prior to your late arrival)

greeted you with an ironic, “And a good night to you!” as he left the bus.

 

I kept my mouth shut at the whole event,

trying to avoid putting on a smile or even a smirk,

because I knew I had a bad habit of feeding the fire

with the tiniest splinter, and also fearing that,

along with this hostile passenger,

you would kick me off the bus.

 

Then the young black woman with the beautiful earrings,

neat hair, and expensive red coat (after the man left our sight)

moved to the seat right next to me,

to talk to you and lecture you;

her words left me in awe as her mouth

unleashed its wisdom upon you.

 

“Peaches!” she preached.

“You shouldn’t encourage him;

not a single drop of rain poured from the sky at this hour

and yet he waited to get on your bus,

to annoy you, knowing you’d talk back.”

You began to talk to her with a shaky voice

on the verge of tears, as you explained to us

how the same man annoyed you every time he got on your route,

but this young woman told you to stop and listen,

“You are a strong, independent black woman,

trying to make ends meet like the rest of us,

especially late at night.

You are in your element;

let not one person take you out of that element,

because this is your last route and no one can take that away from you.

You want to get home, like I want to get home

to my husband and children; and these people

want to get home, too, Peaches.

Black people don’t stay together, unfortunately, these days.

We are a broken people; and it’s sad.

You be humble,

you be you, Peaches.”

Those words struck me as we neared my stop,

and I couldn’t get it out of my mind

and go on with the rest of my night.

 

So as you pulled over to stop,

I turned to everyone on the bus

and greeted them a good night

and for the first time ever,

they greeted me back.

 

“Hi, Peaches.”

“Here you go, Peaches.”

“Hi, Peaches.”

“Here you go, Peaches.”

“Good night, Peaches.”