The rain is relentless, coming down hard and cold. Kathleen has been waiting for twenty minutes for her bus. She’s chilled to the bone. Her feet are completely soaked. Her hair hangs limply, plastered to her face. Every time a car goes by, everyone at the bus stop moves back a foot or two. And then they move forward again.
Bus Stop by Jpleno
She looks at her fellow travelers. They’re a strange mix. She’s the youngest. There’s an ancient couple standing to the left of her. She imagines that they have been married for fifty years or more. The man is very tall and gaunt with a handlebar mustache. He’s wearing a long raincoat that ends at the top of his goulashes. A steady stream of rainwater is dripping down from the brim of his hat. Kathleen imagines him wearing a top hat.
The frail wife, at least Kathleen believes that she’s his wife, has her arm locked in his bent arm. Perhaps she fears she’ll float away in the storm if she doesn’t hold tightly onto him. She has probably been holding onto him in much the same way since they first became a couple. The woman has a rain hat covering her short curly white hair. It’s one of those old-fashioned ones that fold like an accordion, and you keep it in a little plastic case in your pocket for the next rainy day. Kathleen’s great-grandmother used to sport one of those back in the day.
The old wife is wearing stockings that end above her knees and are held up by some sort of garter. Her black raincoat is tightly belted but keeps flapping open because she is missing the bottom two buttons. She has a strange expression on her face. Her lips pursed, and she looks like she is sucking on a lemon. Perhaps she hates standing in the rain. Kathleen certainly does.
A twenty-something dude is wearing skin-tight jeans and a fitted jacket. His boots look like snakeskin, ankle-high. He has a goatee and hair that is tight on the sides and bleached blond, and stands four inches high on the top. The rain had zero effect on his hair because it had so much product on it. He’s texting on his phone and seems oblivious to the rain and the people around him. Kathleen admires his audacity.
Kathleen takes a deep breath and then looks down the street for the bus. At that moment, she sees someone running at breakneck speed toward the bus stop. Waving their arms frantically and yelling. At first, Kathleen believes that someone with mayhem on their mind must be chasing her. She can’t quite hear what the young woman is shrieking. She’s holding an umbrella aloft, but it has long since turned inside out. She arrives so abruptly at the bus stop that she skids to a halt. “Holy shit, I thought I was going to miss the damn bus again. If I’m late getting to work again, I’m toast.” She says this to no one in particular. However, she has everyone’s attention. Even the guy texting who looks at her momentarily and then looks back down at his cell phone. Kathleen feels a kinship with this woman. Her life is often on the edge of self-destruction.
Kathleen looks at her and says,” You haven’t missed the bus. It’s late. I hope it gets here soon.”
Umbrella girl says, ”Shit, it better get here soon. I can’t be late again this week.” Kathleen nods her head in agreement.
Five minutes go by, and then just as everyone is about to give up waiting for the bus, here it comes up the street and screeches to a stop. They all break out in a spontaneous “Hurray.” And start boarding the bus. There’re a few passengers aboard already. They all glare at the people boarding the bus. Then go back to sitting there quietly or just gazing out the window.
Kathleen looks from the front of the bus to the back. She has a fleeting thought that she’s on the Titanic. Unfortunately, she never had that little voice in her head that said no, don’t get on the bus, don’t go out with another loser. Don’t spend your last two dollars on a lottery ticket. Don’t wear a very low-cut blouse to work. Or if she ever did hear it, she never listened. And then the little voice gave up and stopped warning her of imminent death or dismemberment or looser alert. Kathleen was never one for self-reflection.
As the bus lurches forward on its trip to 55th and Broadway, Kathleen’s eyes slowly close, and she falls asleep. She never gets enough sleep. She stays up late every night, but she can never recall why, nor has she ever accomplished anything worth losing sleep. Still, she continues depriving herself of rest. In fact, it was not unheard of for Kathleen to fall asleep at her desk while listening to music between being late and her mid-morning and afternoon naps. Kathleen’s job is at risk.
About halfway to her stop, a new passenger enters the bus and sits across from Kathleen. She is unaware, of course, because she has now entered the REM state of sleep and is dreaming. She has a reoccurring dream. She’s alone in a rowboat and is being taken out to sea by the current. The waves are becoming larger and larger, and she’s soaked. She swallows water and can’t breathe, and gasping for air. She yells out, “Help; I’m drowning. I’m drowning.” Just then, she feels someone grab her arm and roughly shake her.
“Hey, wake up. And while you’re at it. Shut the hell up.” It was a new passenger.
Kathleen’s eyes snap open, and she glares at the man. “What the hell, get your hands off me.”
The man has already lost interest in her. He’s staring out the rain-soaked window. He has his earbuds on, and the music is so loud that Kathleen can hear his heavy metal music blaring. It sounds like Paranoid by Ozzy Osbourn. Kathleen detests Heavy Metal. She recognizes it because her older brother was obsessed with it, and his bedroom was right next to her during her entire adolescence. Kathleen heard it until way after she tried to go to sleep for the night. Kathleen glares back at him, and she feels unreasonable disgust and hatred toward him, a total stranger.
The bus makes several more stops. Four more people step into the bus. And tight pants dude gets off and goes on his way. Kathleen’s ego feels slightly deflated after he walks by her without a second look.
A rough-looking middle-aged man comes aboard. He has his greasy hair pulled back into a low ponytail. He looks like he hasn’t shaved in a week or more. He has a drooping mustache that looks dyed and is growing out to its natural grey. He’s smoking. The bus driver says, ”Sorry buddy, you can’t smoke on a public conveyance. You’ll have to put that out.”
The man tosses his cigarette in the general direction of the bus driver’s feet. The driver gives the man a dirty look and stamps on the cigarette. The man walks down the center aisle and sits behind Kathleen. She thinks, what the frick? This is really turning into a shit day. I can’t wait until it’s over, and I haven’t even gotten to work yet. Well, at least I’m almost at work now. She closes her eyes and tries to block it all from her mind.
Kathleen is awakened once again by one of the new passengers who is sitting behind the bus driver. It appears that he is a regular on the bus. He’s having a loud and animated conversation with him. So much so that all the passengers can hear the conversation. Kathleen scowls at him to no avail since he seems oblivious to everyone’s presence except for his friend, who happens to be the bus driver. He’s rotund to the point of obesity.
In fact, he’s vigorously taking large bites out of a two-foot-long hoagie. While never stopping to chew. But he seems to be swallowing large mouthfuls of the hoagie whole like a shark. Occasionally, bits and pieces spew out of his mouth during his monologue. He looks for all the world like he just stepped out of a Wayback machine from 1965. He has long, unwashed hair in a braid. His face is embellished by a straggly, salt-and-pepper beard. His jeans are decrepit and are tight on his humongous gut. He’s wearing a faded and shredded jeans jacket. He appears to have a massive doobie in his jacket pocket.
Kathleen hears the fat hippie telling the bus driver that his horse came in first and he won $500.00. The bus driver shoots him the high five, and then the hippie finishes off his hoagie. He sits back in his seat and closes his eyes, and falls asleep. His head wobbles from side to side and keeps time to the sway of the bus.
Kathleen thinks dear god, will we never get to my stop? She looks at her cell phone and realizes that there is no way she is going to get to work on time. They are at least ten minutes from where she gets off, and then she still has to walk another five minutes to her building. “Crap, goddammit.”
As Kathleen contemplates what lies she will tell her boss for being late once again, she hears a commotion coming from the back of the bus. She turns and looks behind her. It appears as if the Old Man and Old Wife are having some disagreement. And then she hears someone yelling, “Stop that, get your hands off her now.” Kathleen realizes it is Umbrella Girl. And she’s pummeling the old man with her inside out, soaking, wet umbrella.
Someone screams, “For the love of Pete, call the police.” Then the rough-looking man comes over and physically pulls the old man’s hands off of the old woman’s neck. Who is by now all but unconscious from lack of oxygen. Her head falls to the side, and lays limply on her bony shoulder.
The bus driver pulls abruptly over to the side of the road. He screams,” “Will everyone please calm the hell down?”
He heads to the back of the bus to have a look at whatever happened. Alright, lady, you can stop bashing this guy with your umbrella. “You sit down.” The rough-looking guy takes his hands off the Old Man momentarily, and the Old Man tries to push past him and gets in the aisle to make good his escape. He gets halfway up the bus aisle.
Kathleen sticks her leg out into the aisle, and as the lanky old man tries to escape, he trips and falls flat on his face. His hat rolls a few feet away and then stops leaving a trail of rainwater in its wake. At that moment, the police arrive, and Rotund Hippie gets up and makes his way to the door, and opens it.
“Alright, what the hell is going on in here?” A burly-looking cop says?” The old Hippie says that the old man in the back tries to off his old lady. I think she might be dead. He was choking her. And she ain’t moving anymore. The Old Man on the floor is the guy that killed her.”
The policeman says, “ Ok, everybody, back in your seats.” An officer will be coming onto the bus—the cop calls for backup and an ambulance. The Old man starts to get up and is restrained with handcuffs. “Alright, buddy, looks like you are going for a ride in the back of my police car. Isn’t that a great way to start off the day?”
The Old Man is led off the bus by the second cop and put in the back seat of the car. A second police car has arrived, along with an ambulance. As the paramedics walk past Kathleen, she is swearing aloud. “For the love of all that is holy, what the fuck is happening? Why is this kinda shit always happening to me? Why? Just why today? Crap, crap, crap.”
The paramedic checks out Old Lady. And then they lift her onto the stretcher. And pull the sheet over her face. Kathleen looks at her as she goes by. “Crap, crap, crap.”
“Ok, everyone, we are going to have to get a statement from each one of you and your contact information. You’re all witnesses. You may be called to testify in court at a later date. It’s your duty to do so. Don’t try to leave until we permit you to do so. Sit back and relax; this may take a while.”
Kathleen smacks herself on the forehead. “Well, I’m dead in the water now. That’s for sure. My boss is never going to believe this story. I’m toast. Man, I should have just stayed in bed and called in sick today. “
There is a unified moan that rises from everyone on the bus. Somewhat reminiscent of the hurrah when the late bus arrived. They all sink in their seats simultaneously, almost as if it is choreographed.
Kathleen stares out the window at the dreary gray ski with rivers of rain flowing down the street. “Well, isn’t this just great, yet another day in paradise.”