imagined it happening like this. Ian and I, before he died, planned our life in an unconventional way. We wanted to steer clear of anything predictable, anything that made us the same drones of society that get up at the same time every morning and duplicate yesterday. We wanted to backpack across the world—it’s why I brought it up to Natalie that day in the coffee shop. Maybe a part of me hoped she’d share the passion for the idea that Ian and I had and she’d do it with me, but like everything else, it didn’t exactly turn out like I hoped.
“Mind if I sit here?” an older lady says standing in the aisle of the bus with a lime green purse pressed to her chest.
“Sure, go ahead,” I say, smiling faintly up at her. I really don’t feel like smiling at all, but the last thing I want to do is give her any reason to believe I’m a troubled young soul that needs a good dose of old lady advice.
She wiggles her way onto the seat next to me after putting her travel bag away overhead. She’s kind of chunky, but she carries herself well. And she smells nice.
“You look young,” she says. “Where yah headin’?”
“Idaho.”
“Really?” she smiles over at me, revealing all the deep wrinkles around her mouth. “Must be for family—don’t think anybody goes there for vacation.”
“Yeah. Going to visit my sister.”
She pooches her lips out slightly, nodding her head as if filing my answers away. Then she starts fishing around inside her purse.
I look toward the tall Plexiglas window beside me and watch the passengers come and go from other busses. It’s midday and I’m in Memphis at the moment. I slept most of the way overnight—well, I tried to sleep, but mostly I napped until a bump in the road, or my aching neck and back woke me up from sleeping all cramped on the seat. Never been to Memphis before, but I have to say, this bus station makes me nervous. I’ve seen a few shady-looking people walking around.
“Well, I’m on my way to Montana,” the lady says putting a little white pill on her tongue. “I usually take the train, but I decided to go a different route this time. See some new scenery.”
“You must travel a lot,” I say glancing over.
“Not a lot,” she says. “Just once a year to visit my mama. She’s ninety-eight.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, that woman is as stubborn as a bull. Got the cancer five times already and she’s still livin’. Beats it every time.”
I smile warmly over at her.
“But if you don’t mind,” she says, pressing her back deeper against the seat and resting her head on it, “I’m in need of a long nap. I didn’t sleep a lick on the last bus—driver kept swervin’ all over the road.” She points upward. “Be careful on these busses. Y’meet all sorts of strange people and the bus drivers are usually sleep-deprived. Gotta watch ‘em, help keep ‘em awake by talkin’ to ‘em, or else you might end up over the guardrail upside-down in a heap of metal.”
Now why did she have to say that? I swallow down the memory of Ian’s wreck, which is eerily similar to her words and I just nod at her.
She closes her eyes, but then opens them back up and looks over at me one more time. “But really, it’s the people y’gotta watch out for. You never know who y’might meet, or what Ol’ Man Fate has in store for yah.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say. “Thanks.”
Tennessee slips by my window in a blur. Night falls and I eventually fall asleep, too. I don’t have any dreams; haven’t had a single dream since Ian died, but it’s probably better that way. If I have dreams they might provoke emotion and I’m done with emotion. I’m starting to get used to this feeling of not caring about anything. Aside from a few shady bus station dwellers, I’m really not afraid of anything anymore. I guess when you just don’t care it kind of makes fear your bitch.
I never used to curse this much, either.
The old lady and I depart ways in St.
“Mind if I sit here?” an older lady says standing in the aisle of the bus with a lime green purse pressed to her chest.
“Sure, go ahead,” I say, smiling faintly up at her. I really don’t feel like smiling at all, but the last thing I want to do is give her any reason to believe I’m a troubled young soul that needs a good dose of old lady advice.
She wiggles her way onto the seat next to me after putting her travel bag away overhead. She’s kind of chunky, but she carries herself well. And she smells nice.
“You look young,” she says. “Where yah headin’?”
“Idaho.”
“Really?” she smiles over at me, revealing all the deep wrinkles around her mouth. “Must be for family—don’t think anybody goes there for vacation.”
“Yeah. Going to visit my sister.”
She pooches her lips out slightly, nodding her head as if filing my answers away. Then she starts fishing around inside her purse.
I look toward the tall Plexiglas window beside me and watch the passengers come and go from other busses. It’s midday and I’m in Memphis at the moment. I slept most of the way overnight—well, I tried to sleep, but mostly I napped until a bump in the road, or my aching neck and back woke me up from sleeping all cramped on the seat. Never been to Memphis before, but I have to say, this bus station makes me nervous. I’ve seen a few shady-looking people walking around.
“Well, I’m on my way to Montana,” the lady says putting a little white pill on her tongue. “I usually take the train, but I decided to go a different route this time. See some new scenery.”
“You must travel a lot,” I say glancing over.
“Not a lot,” she says. “Just once a year to visit my mama. She’s ninety-eight.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, that woman is as stubborn as a bull. Got the cancer five times already and she’s still livin’. Beats it every time.”
I smile warmly over at her.
“But if you don’t mind,” she says, pressing her back deeper against the seat and resting her head on it, “I’m in need of a long nap. I didn’t sleep a lick on the last bus—driver kept swervin’ all over the road.” She points upward. “Be careful on these busses. Y’meet all sorts of strange people and the bus drivers are usually sleep-deprived. Gotta watch ‘em, help keep ‘em awake by talkin’ to ‘em, or else you might end up over the guardrail upside-down in a heap of metal.”
Now why did she have to say that? I swallow down the memory of Ian’s wreck, which is eerily similar to her words and I just nod at her.
She closes her eyes, but then opens them back up and looks over at me one more time. “But really, it’s the people y’gotta watch out for. You never know who y’might meet, or what Ol’ Man Fate has in store for yah.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say. “Thanks.”
Tennessee slips by my window in a blur. Night falls and I eventually fall asleep, too. I don’t have any dreams; haven’t had a single dream since Ian died, but it’s probably better that way. If I have dreams they might provoke emotion and I’m done with emotion. I’m starting to get used to this feeling of not caring about anything. Aside from a few shady bus station dwellers, I’m really not afraid of anything anymore. I guess when you just don’t care it kind of makes fear your bitch.
I never used to curse this much, either.
The old lady and I depart ways in St.
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