i boarded the bus early that morning
coming off a grave shift
–
a prolonged evening
of stocking racks and
unloading trucks
–
prime of my youth
–
the stop was lonely
during those early hours
and i waited there
alone
quite a long time
–
eventually
the shuttle arrived and
the long shuttered door collapsed upon itself
–
i proceeded to board
–
i passed the driver a glance of acknowledgement
nodding my head
signifying a quiet respect and gratitude
pacing to a seat
about halfway in
–
the bus heaved
exuding its presence
and i turned to face the window
hydraulics and mechanisms whirring
as he followed his route
–
routine stops
rounding the city
sitting
in a hard plastic chair
awaiting my destination
–
we continued on the path
finding a man
in his early to mid thirties
standing
near one of the signs
–
he climbed aboard
and i glanced at him
noting a small beaded cherry of a mole
on his unkempt neck
–
he looked down the aisle
paused for a moment
then made his way towards me
at last taking a seat on the opposite side
–
i could tell something was unusual
his body language
was immediately frantic
scratching and fidgeting
tapping his foot at demon intervals
staccato sidelong glances from me
to the window
to the rear
to the front
–
nervously patting his head and
laughing to himself
–
at some point he struck up a conversation
the contents of which i cannot recall
i do recall
however
the intensity and discomfort of those remaining miles
–
he asked me where i lived
how much longer before i depart
touched me and continued
with that same
unsure laughter
–
his laughter turned
into a crescendo of barking
contorting his face
in a disquieting expression
causing the cherry to burn hotter
as his fair
yet splotchy skin
turned pink
–
the barking ceased
returning to nervous laughter
–
he resumed prodding
then unsheathed a knife
letting the interior lights of the bus
gleam
off its honed blade
–
he brandished it
invisible to the driver
beneath the obstructing barricade
of the preceding seat
–
unsettled
i waited past my stop
making polite conversation
at last
breaking away
exiting three or four stops
down the road
–
he watched me
eyes tracing my steps toward that shuttered door
watched me as i descended those grimy steps
stared at me as i began to traipse down that sidewalk
–
to this day
i still remember looking back
seeing him glancing out that window
til the bus disappeared down the hilly road
–
i took the long way back
to a shared
tattered duplex
trekking streets i’d never seen before
wandering past morning joggers
quiet culdesacs
and chain link fences
with only the memory of
an interesting bus ride
