Simple

An afternoon on the 50, going in circles on Dixie Highway. We're downtown waiting to pull out for another trip north out of Central Terminal. This time of day things are busy and chaotic, crowds waiting to board and get home. It takes some doing to get noticed in the frenzy around us; Ernest does it without breaking a sweat. Relentlessly sociable and forcefully excited, he's a young man with big dreams who has a way of cutting through the fray.

On a different day, he'd plainly announced, "There's no other guy like me in the world." The figure he cut decked out in leather work boots, light denim pants, untucked fuchsia long-sleeve button-down, and loose green tie with a cross embroidered on it kept him true to his word in one sense. At the time he was getting me up to date on his business plans to be a powerhouse sports agent, representing NBA players.

This day was new, and fashion wasn't a sticking point. We pulled out of the terminal and he pulled up front, a moving figure in my peripheral vision. It was that calm time after everyone's aboard and we're moving. Things can get quiet in the bus space, punctuated occasionally by outside sounds and ambient conversations. The anxious rider to my right showed up at the right time.
"Hey there! Another exciting day?" It was my simple invitation for him to share, and he was ready.
"Yeah, today I was in court learning from Wayne Huizenga, Jr. The best business man on the planet."
"That's interesting. What's he up to?"
A brief pause to reflect, then: "Simply living life to the fullest."
"That's not always so simple. What's the secret?"
Without hesitation, and succinctly: "God."
"That's heavy..."

At this point we were in a long line at a red light, not going anywhere soon. He had no intention of waiting needlessly, so when the doors opened, he bounded off. As quickly as he'd expressed himself, just as quickly was he gone. While we sat immobile, suddenly he was several blocks ahead of us, carried by some internal energy encouraging him onward.