Kansas anytime soon, sir? We were just trying to get to Salina.”
Lester looked down at me, arms still crossed, straining to keep his thin shoulders still as he did his best to stand his ground. His mouth worked like he was chewing on a strip of Bobbi’s gum and trying to keep wrong words from forming in it. He struck me as a fellow whose gears might turn a bit slower than those of other folks, a man whose thinking cap had gotten shrunk in the wash and now fit his brain a notch too tight.
“You k-kids can’t be on this b-bus,” the man said finally, extending one arm with a finger pointed our way. But the finger shook as Carlene laughed and Rhonda scolded, ridiculing Lester’s attempts at grit and fortitude, and the man’s eyes held no real spite or spleen.
“Please, sir.” I took another step forward. “We’re just trying to get to Salina. We’ll keep out of trouble and out of the way. Surely it couldn’t hurt for us to hitch a ride with you. You’ve got plenty of space. You’re going back there, aren’t you? The sign on your bus says—”
“I could get into a mighty b-big heap of trouble having k-kids on my bus,” Lester stammered, taking one step back and tucking his pointing finger back under his dampening armpit as though he couldn’t trust it. “My b-boss wouldn’t like it one bit. He’d fire me, that’s what he’d do. Do your folks know where you are?”
“My momma and poppa are down in Salina right now, sir. My poppa’s in the hospital. You’ll be doing them a great big favor bringing us down to them. I swear.” I raised one hand in the air like I was taking an oath; surrounded by all of those Bibles, I thought it had to count for something. Lester rocked back and forth on his heels, shoulders still wiggling, gears still grinding.
“Here he goes. That’s Lester Swan,”
Carlene said.
“Caving in like a dunkle-head to a little girl.”
Rhonda clucked her animated tongue in motherly disappointment.
“It never did take more than a tap to knock my Lester to the ground. If only he’d turned out more like me. I’d show these kids what for.”
Lowering my hand, I took another step forward; Lester Swan took a second step back as though he thought I might bite him if I got too close.
“Please, sir?”
Lester ran his right hand through his thin hair, scratching at the bald head underneath and making the bit of tuft he had left stick up like the feathers of an ugly duckling; Carlene rolled her cartoon eyes as she rocked up and down and upside down with the motion. For a moment I thought Lester would kick us off the bus right there and then, leaving us on the side of the highway in the middle of nowhere. But after an awkward, wordless standoff, the moment passed, and Lester sank down to sit on the edge of the nearest seat with an extra slump and sag to his shoulders.
“So, where are you all from?” he asked with the sorry voice of a man who’d just lost the last of his pluck and knew it.
Chapter XI
I t turned out that lester swan enjoyed having folks to talk to. Clearing off the first rows of tatty, ratty seats, he pressed us all to sit up at the front of the bus while he drove. Bobbi and Will Junior sat on one side of the bus, just behind the driver’s seat, suddenly none too sure about us Beaumont kids and the funny, funny things that happened around us. Me and Fish sat together across the aisle, both anxious to get back on our way. Samson preferred to keep to himself in the back, slipping again underneath the cot with the bag of potato chips, the Slim Jims, and the pile of magazines at his fingertips.
“This ol’ gal may have some faulty p-pistons, and her c-carburetor may need replacing, but she’s still got some miles left in her,” said Lester, rambling on to us about the big pink delivery bus as he drove. He talked about that bus like it was a delicate, niminy-piminy thing that depended on him for its constant care and looking after. “Of course, I do well to
Lester looked down at me, arms still crossed, straining to keep his thin shoulders still as he did his best to stand his ground. His mouth worked like he was chewing on a strip of Bobbi’s gum and trying to keep wrong words from forming in it. He struck me as a fellow whose gears might turn a bit slower than those of other folks, a man whose thinking cap had gotten shrunk in the wash and now fit his brain a notch too tight.
“You k-kids can’t be on this b-bus,” the man said finally, extending one arm with a finger pointed our way. But the finger shook as Carlene laughed and Rhonda scolded, ridiculing Lester’s attempts at grit and fortitude, and the man’s eyes held no real spite or spleen.
“Please, sir.” I took another step forward. “We’re just trying to get to Salina. We’ll keep out of trouble and out of the way. Surely it couldn’t hurt for us to hitch a ride with you. You’ve got plenty of space. You’re going back there, aren’t you? The sign on your bus says—”
“I could get into a mighty b-big heap of trouble having k-kids on my bus,” Lester stammered, taking one step back and tucking his pointing finger back under his dampening armpit as though he couldn’t trust it. “My b-boss wouldn’t like it one bit. He’d fire me, that’s what he’d do. Do your folks know where you are?”
“My momma and poppa are down in Salina right now, sir. My poppa’s in the hospital. You’ll be doing them a great big favor bringing us down to them. I swear.” I raised one hand in the air like I was taking an oath; surrounded by all of those Bibles, I thought it had to count for something. Lester rocked back and forth on his heels, shoulders still wiggling, gears still grinding.
“Here he goes. That’s Lester Swan,”
Carlene said.
“Caving in like a dunkle-head to a little girl.”
Rhonda clucked her animated tongue in motherly disappointment.
“It never did take more than a tap to knock my Lester to the ground. If only he’d turned out more like me. I’d show these kids what for.”
Lowering my hand, I took another step forward; Lester Swan took a second step back as though he thought I might bite him if I got too close.
“Please, sir?”
Lester ran his right hand through his thin hair, scratching at the bald head underneath and making the bit of tuft he had left stick up like the feathers of an ugly duckling; Carlene rolled her cartoon eyes as she rocked up and down and upside down with the motion. For a moment I thought Lester would kick us off the bus right there and then, leaving us on the side of the highway in the middle of nowhere. But after an awkward, wordless standoff, the moment passed, and Lester sank down to sit on the edge of the nearest seat with an extra slump and sag to his shoulders.
“So, where are you all from?” he asked with the sorry voice of a man who’d just lost the last of his pluck and knew it.
Chapter XI
I t turned out that lester swan enjoyed having folks to talk to. Clearing off the first rows of tatty, ratty seats, he pressed us all to sit up at the front of the bus while he drove. Bobbi and Will Junior sat on one side of the bus, just behind the driver’s seat, suddenly none too sure about us Beaumont kids and the funny, funny things that happened around us. Me and Fish sat together across the aisle, both anxious to get back on our way. Samson preferred to keep to himself in the back, slipping again underneath the cot with the bag of potato chips, the Slim Jims, and the pile of magazines at his fingertips.
“This ol’ gal may have some faulty p-pistons, and her c-carburetor may need replacing, but she’s still got some miles left in her,” said Lester, rambling on to us about the big pink delivery bus as he drove. He talked about that bus like it was a delicate, niminy-piminy thing that depended on him for its constant care and looking after. “Of course, I do well to
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