No One Left

Near the bus station downtown, Tom sat on a bench.  The buses turned into the station from the street.  The bench was twenty feet from the station.  Tom sat on the bench at the corner.  He faced the crosswalk.  White lines were painted across the street.

There were two adjacent benches; Tom had sat on one.  A black man had come out from the station, walked down the street towards Tom, and crossed at the walk.  He crossed and he wore a plaid shirt.  His shirt was untucked in the back and Tom saw that he had pants on.

The black man walked across the street at the walk and he turned to walk across the cross street.  Another man and his girlfriend had come up to the corner opposite the black man.  The black man had turned to cross to that corner.  The man at that corner stood still.  He was going to cross the one way.

"Hey spook," he said.

Tom heard.  The black man looked at the white man and his girlfriend.  He looked at them and then he turned around.  He saw Tom over his shoulder.  Tom was sitting on the bench.

The white man and his girlfriend crossed the one way.  The black man hadn't said anything to him.  Tom had shook his head.  The black man crossed the cross street.

The white man and his girlfriend came across the one way and around to the corner on which Tom sat.  He walked in front of Tom sitting on the bench.  His girlfriend trailed him.  They both wore heavy black boots and stepped high in front.  The man smoked a cigarette.

The man wore black shades.  It was an overcast day.  He wore a black leather jacket.  Tom wore a T-shirt. The man's girlfriend wore a black leather jacket too.  On the back was a crusted ensign.  They had passed Tom.

Tom was about to say something, but he did not.  The black man was across the parking lot on the other side of the street from Tom.  He had looked back.  The white man and his girlfriend had gone past and they had turned into the station.