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Scribe
Join Date: Jun 2006
Location: MA
Gender: Male
Posts: 77
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Buses & Railroad Crossings
Let me know what you think!
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It was a Tuesday afternoon in May, and unseasonably warm. The kind of warm that caused a seatbelt burnt your finger tips, and woke you up from the rainy and cold state of mind that mid-April can cause. That’s exactly what happened to Abilene as she settled into John’s small, white, foreign car with its scratchy, tan interior.
“Ouch!”
“Watch out, here, use this.” He handed her a small blue handkerchief with a paisley print. She clipped the seat belt in and as if that was the ignition, the car careened from the parking lot, windows down and music pouring outwards.
“So, how was your day?” asked John as he pushed and pulled on the sun visor above his head.
“It was alright, I’m pretty tired. I slept in and was almost late for school again.”
“Again! You better watch your attendance or you won’t be graduating!”
She tried to suppress a little giggle and noticed his right hand dangling above the shifter like a limp sail on a stale summer day.
“I gotta get some gas before we do anything.”
“Okay, I don’t have to get the kids off the bus for another forty five minutes anyways. Let’s get an iced coffee or something.” Just as she finished the question, John slammed on the brakes as two freshman-looking kids skateboarded in front of his car.
“Fuckin’ idiots!” he shook his head and let out a little sigh, “Okay sounds good.”
“Oh! Can we stop at my house real quick? I forgot my French book and I have to do some exercises for tomorrow. Sorry!”
“Oui oui!” he said with a little smirk, but he was too busy performing his three point turn to notice her cheeks turn pink as pomegranate seeds.
“I’ll be just a minute!” she said as she darted into the three story white apartment building. She clambered up the stairs, letting the sharp smell of cinnamon and dust enter her nostrils. She kicked off her flip flops out of habit and burst into her room, B-lining right to her corner desk. Under the copy of “Nine Stories” John had let her borrow was the pastel blue book entitled “On y Va!” which meant, quite literally “Let us go there!”
She turned sharply and took two big steps out of the room, knocking her shoulder on closing door letting out a gasp that timed perfectly with the thud of her collar bone.
“Abilene? Is that you?” flew a voice from the kitchen. It was a feminine but strong voice, asking the question with a hint of implication in it.
“Yeah Mum, but me and John are going to get coffees and then I’m babysitting.”
“Alright, fold that laundry when you get home before you do anything else. Tell him I said ‘Hi’.”
“Okay, love you bye.” The last sentence sounded almost like one long word, strung together in a culmination of sincerity and urgency.
John saw the screen door swing open, followed by the shiny dark brown hair and sunglasses that matched so well with her white sun dress. He couldn’t help but start to drum along on the steering wheel with both hands.
This time, the seatbelt had cooled a bit and his handkerchief lay untouched on the pale brown floor mat. “All set!” she said as she started putting her book into her over sized purse.
“Sounds good.”
There was a bit of traffic around the center of town, mainly due to the long caravan of school buses that were required by law to stop for ten seconds at every railroad crossing. This got a bit tedious to passengers and drivers alike since there were about four different sets of tracks in the center alone.
“I sure hope the kids are going to behave today. Yesterday, Arnold wouldn’t stop pulling on his dog’s tail. I was afraid he was going to bite him in the face.”
“Well I guess that would teach him, huh? Haha, just kidding. What do you want?” they had pulled up to the drive through of Dunkin Donuts and without the motion of air brushing through the windows, John’s back began to sweat.
“Umm, I’ll have a small iced French vanilla. Extra cream and sugar please!”
“Hi, how can I help you?” sparked an androgynous voice from the little wired box outside the car.
“Hi, can I get a small iced, French vanilla extra-extra?”
“Sure, anything else”
“Uh, yeah give me a small tea, one milk and four sugars.”
“Okay, drive up please.”
John forgot he was driving and waited almost as if on a carnival ride, for the car to engage itself. After about five seconds he remembered his duty as a driver and turned the corner of the building.
At the window, a small red haired girl covered in freckles chimed “Hi, it’s three eighty six, please.”
“Here you go” said Abilene as she thrust a ten dollar bill onto John’s lap.
“No, no. I got it.” He handed the little Irish girl five and told her to keep the change.
“Oh come on! You don’t have to do that,” protested Abilene.
“Yeah I know. My dad says all I have to do is pay taxes and die.” His cynical humor twisted Abilene’s insides into a mess of harp strings and acid, which resulted in her flush face and shiny teeth.
“Well, thanks. I got the next one.” She said as she wrapped her pale pink lips around the straw. John watched the pale brown liquid come forth from the bottom of the straw and into her mouth. He could smell it as soon as she took her lips off. The little droplets on her lips matched the car seat perfectly.
“Sure you do!” He shook he tea from side to side and resumed driving, making sure not to make the same silly mistake he did back at the menu.
“So what are you up to tonight?” She asked between sips of liquid addiction.
“Not sure, I have rehearsal for the play until about ten probably. But that doesn’t start for a couple hours.”
“Oh cool. Well that should be fun, better than babysitting!”
“You betcha. How’s your coffee?”
“Awesome, thanks.”
Driving by acres of fields, John silently wondered who mowed all that grass and how long it took. They were passing the farm supply store when The Cure started to play from Abilene’s purse. It was her ring tone.
“Oh it’s Jess,” she flipped open the phone, “Hey! What’s going on lovely? Oh cool! Not much, me and John just got some coffees and he is bringing me to baby sit. Oh yeah…Sorry I can’t! I have to watch the kids until like seven thirty. But I’ll call you after! Okay, bye!”
She closed the phone and dropped in onto the floor and into her purse. She saw John’s hand dangling there still, begging to be filled with a fresh breeze. He was singing along to the radio, almost oblivious to Abilene’s presence, at least, that was his intention. She couldn’t help but feel giddy when during the chorus of this particular song, John began straining for the higher notes, and she slipped her fingers into his. John was startled by the cold moist condensation transferred from the coffee cup, but adjusted his fingers to fit over her knuckles. He rubbed his thumb over the ridges of her hand and they both couldn’t help but smile, but dare not looked at each other.
Soon the little car arrived at the destined driveway, and John pulled in and put the car in park. He didn’t let go of Abilene, but moved the shifter with his left hand.
“Well, there’s still like twenty minutes until the kids come home. You want to just come inside?” she asked.
“Alright, they got anything good to eat?” they both laughed and got out of the car. The doors slammed almost simultaneously, and John raced Abilene up the stairs to the big green door. She was digging through her purse while holding her coffee between her chin and chest. A few rogue locks of hair had escaped from behind her ears and grazed the dark lenses of her glasses.
“Let me help you with that” he said as he took the cool wet plastic cup from under her nose.
“Haha, thanks. Ah, here it is.”
The click of the key seemed to start up some archaic noise machine, as the instant she opened the door a chocolate colored lab with a red collar began barking and running around a pale wooden table in the center of the room, his nails scratching the linoleum with every pass.
“Hi Jakey!” Abilene kneeled down and ran her hands over his head, at which point his tail began thumping loudly against a chair leg.
John opened the fridge and bent down, as if in his own house, “There isn’t much to eat. Want an apple sauce?”
“John! Get out of there!”
“Too late,” He had already peeled the foil top off the little tub of nutrition, “Where are the spoons at?”
“Here, and don’t make a mess, the kids do enough of that. Actually here’s the bus now.”
She was right. A long, yellow, regulation death trap was flashing in front of the house and about half dozen kids with backpacks that were bigger than them hustled off the bus. Most scattered to other streets and houses, but two, a girl and boy, came racing up the driveway. The little girl, just under ten years old, was wearing a teal shirt with a sunflower on it, and little jean shorts. Her bright green bag bounced against her with every bound she took, almost knocking the wind out of her.
Her brother at first ran, but something in the driveway had distracted him. He stopped dead and bent down as a chicken pecks at his feed, his nose practically touching the pavement.
“Ewww! A dead worm!” he collapsed into a fit of laughter and his sister turned around, grabbing his arm not so nicely.
“Come on Arnold!”
Reluctantly, but still in hysterics, Arnold marched up the stairs and entered the house behind his sister. They both tossed their backpacks onto the kitchen table and bolted into the basement, arguing over which toys they got to play with first.
“Neither of you are playing until you start your homework!” cried Abilene down the cellar stair well. With a bit of a huff and a smile, she shut the door quietly and came to the table that John was leaning on.
“Well, I got to make them something to eat.” Her eyes looked like those of a landlocked mermaid’s.
“Okay, well give me a call later when you get home.”
“Don’t you have play practice though?”
“Oh yeah, right. Rehearsal. Well, maybe I’ll talk to you tonight.”
“Okay, sounds nice.” Realizing how awkward her last sentence was, Abilene walked over to the door and held it open, like a bellhop working for that extra tip. John smiled at her and walked outside. He turned around to say good-bye, but as soon as he looked at her he froze. There, standing in the green doorway, her cream white dress and brown bangs perfectly synchronized in a flutter from a soft breeze, John could barely think. In all actuality, he wasn’t thinking of her. Even when he leaned over to move the bangs from her eyes, and pressed his firm mouth onto her soft and anxious lips, he never thought once of what he was doing.
All John could think about was that dead, swollen worm squashed on the driveway.
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Follow me through the city of frost covered angels
I swear I have nothing to prove.
I just want to dance in your tangles,
to give me some reason to move.
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