Greyhound

            by Sophie Bridgers

 

Carly stared blankly at the stream of people filing onto the bus.  Her hair, overgrown and shaggy, provided a protective barrier from the strangers who passed.  Her backpack guarded the seat next to her, challenging anyone who tried to move it and sit down.  Only her eyes, flickering in the florescent light of the bus, seemed to contradict her cold appearance.  A sketchbook lay inconspicuously in her lap, a pencil clenched in her hand.

The bus smelled stale.  It was old, but scrubbed raw to look new.  Everything was gray: the walls, peeling and shedding, the seat cushions, worn so thin from long rides that they barely provided any comfort, the driver’s faded uniform.  Even the windows were tinted gray, blending with the blanket of fog that cloaked the early September morning.

A young man climbed the stairs last and was the only one bold enough to smile at the pale girl trying her best to look brave. He was tall; standing side-by-side, he would dwarf her 5’2” figure. He moved with confidence and a smirk that, much to Carly’s annoyance, made her believe he knew a secret she would never learn.  Her green, sparkling eyes staring out from behind the tangle of brown bangs startled him, and he chose the seats opposite her, strategically placing his bag in the aisle seat and sinking into the one next to the window: a declaration of respect and space.  A blush gripped Carly’s face and she abruptly turned her head away from the crinkling cheeks and tousled, blonde head.

            The engine shook below.  A few rows back, a drained woman with pursed lips struggled with a squirming, kicking child, trying her best to control his energy.  Carly closed her eyes, remembering her own mother’s pained expression as she had packed her bags earlier that morning.

“Don’t go.  You’re being foolish,” her mother had said.  Carly had just slammed her suitcase shut and pushed past her mother out the door.  Bruce had driven her to the bus stop, the only decent thing he’d done since he walked into their lives six months earlier.

“Take care of yourself,” he had said.

“Yeah,” was her only response.

            Carly glanced nervously across the aisle.  Satisfied that the young man was absorbed in his magazine, she began to draw.  Her grip on the pencil softened with her thoughts as strokes erased the blankness of the page.  She began with delicate, hesitant outlines and then became more decisive, layering in details and shadows.  The bus jerked and stumbled along the already bumpy pavement, threatening Carly’s steady hand.

            Outside, the city streets gave way to an open highway and the bus sped along as lifeless, sun-bleached fields flew by.  A cramp shot up Carly’s right arm and she shook her hand, leaning back into her seat.  Fatigue from the arguments that had filled her nights for the past month washed over her and she willingly drifted off.

            A sudden lurch of the bus jolted Carly from her dreams and she was surprised to find that the man across the aisle had switched places with his backpack.  He now sat facing her, leaning against his bag, his feet hanging into the aisle.

“You snore,” he stated without looking up from his magazine.  His comment hung in the air for a second before Carly answered, confused and half awake.

“What?”

“When you sleep…you snore.  I just thought you might like to know.”

“Thanks?  I guess…”

“I mean people who fall asleep in public should know whether they snore or not, you know?  Some of us are trying to read,” he smiled, obviously amused.

“Sorry,” Carly grumbled. “I didn’t know anyone was listening.”

“Well, it was kinda hard not t-“

“You know,” Carly said her voice rising. “It’s kinda creepy that you listen to people sleep without them knowing.”

“It’s no creepier than someone staring at you and drawing your picture without your permission.”  He laughed, swinging his legs around and peering across the aisle, “Is my nose really that big?”

            Carly stared down at the face in her sketchbook.  She slammed it shut and stuffed it into her bag, blood rushing to her cheeks.  Avoiding his eyes, she defiantly looked out the window, refusing to answer his question.  He shrugged and returned to his reading.

            The sun tried to wiggle its way through the layer of clouds, but they were unyielding and Carly was left facing a bleak world.  Her eyes ached from the monotone bus and unvarying landscape, but she wasn’t going to make the mistake of falling asleep.  As long as he was listening, she would have to endure without it.

            Carly fixed her eyes on the window, but her mind drifted, traveling back to the night that changed everything.  Before Bruce, she and her mom had been fine on their own.  Sure, they weren’t the perfect family, but they made it through each day without a man in their lives, so why did they need one now?  Bruce and her mom were only on their first date when she brought him home.  Carly heard it all—her mother’s giggles as she pushed open the front door, Bruce’s hurried question: “Is Carly home?”, and her mother’s reassuring response: “Yes, but don’t worry; she’s a heavy sleeper.”  Carly swallowed, trying to soothe her growing nausea.  Shaking her head, she made herself focus on the path of a bird soaring in the sky.

“So, have you been drawing for long?”

 Carly looked up, startled by the man’s question but quickly recomposed herself and continued ignoring him.  His attention made her nervous.  He was a stranger and although he could pass for a boy, he definitely was closer to being a man.  Carly heard giggling and peeking over her shoulder, found the man wrinkling his nose and sticking his tongue out at a rosy-cheeked baby a couple of seats ahead of them.  He seemed more annoying than he did dangerous.  Carly took a deep breath and turned to face him.

 “I’ve been drawing since I was a little kid,” she explained hesitantly.

“Oh… well you’re pretty good.  I mean except for the fact that the proportions are kinda off,” he said jokingly making one last face at the baby.  A small smile slipped across Carly’s face.  “Well that’s a first,” he chuckled, startled again by her bright eyes.

“Do you draw?” she asked.

“No, I just critique,” he grinned.  Carly smiled back.

Silence followed.  Carly bit her lip and looked around, not knowing what to say.  She found a loose thread in her sweatshirt and pulled at it, happy for a distraction.  She glanced across the aisle.  He was reading but looked up just in time to catch her eyes. Carly quickly stared back at the thread, blushing.

“So….” she said still looking at her hands, “what are you reading?”

“Just some magazine I found on a bench at the bus station.”  He flipped to the cover, “Hydroponics Monthly.  Ever heard of it?”

 Carly shook her head.  Again, silence.

“So,” Carly said with a little more confidence. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere really,” he sighed.  “I just need to get out of L.A.”

 Tell me about it, Carly thought. 

“Everything just started to bug me: the traffic, the smog, the people who think they’re movie stars and cut you in line at Starbucks.  I just couldn’t take it any longer.”

“L.A.’s exhausting,” she nodded in agreement.

“So, how ‘bout you?  Where are you headed?” he asked after a pause.

“Home,” Carly answered tentatively.  “I mean, I’m leaving home…I’m moving in with my dad.”

“Oh…your parents split up?” 

Carly nodded. 

“And you’re running away to get back at them?”

“What makes you think I’m running away?”

“I don’t know… you’ve got that whole deer-in-the headlights innocent, lost look, but at the same time you’ve got this scowl that says ‘Stay away.’”

“I don’t scowl!”

“You do, you’re just not very good at it,” he said laughing.  “Look, here’s how it’s done…”

 He turned toward her, narrowing his eyes and furrowing his eyebrows.  He pursed his lips and hollowed his cheeks.  Carly burst into laughter; she thought he looked more like a constipated fish than a scowling runaway.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“N-nothing,” Carly gasped leaning forward and shaking her head. “Nothing.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

Carly sighed and sunk back into her seat, “No, it’s worse.”

Through the window, Carly could see the gray sky fading into black as the invisible sun sank beneath the horizon.  Her first day on her own was almost over and with each passing mile, she was moving closer to her father.  Carly wrinkled her forehead, trying to see if that would help her remember the last time she saw him.  It was three years ago and only for a couple of hours.  He came by to tell her and her mother that he was moving to Tucson for work and that Carly could come visit any time.  Her mother followed him out to the car as he left; Carly listened to the familiar agitation in their tones through the cracked front door:

“You can’t just leave, Rick.  I can’t do this on my own.  How do you expect me to do this on my ow—“

“Listen, if you want me to keep paying child support, then I have to move.  You’re welcome to move there too, but we both know how that would turn out.”

“Fine.  Go.  It’ll be nice to have some distance between us anyways.”

“And I mean it, Carly can come whenever she wants.”

“You say that now—“

“But this time I mean it.”

“See ya, Rick.”

Her mother had stomped into the house and up to her room, while Carly watched her father drive away, her heart pounding in her ears.  She had thought that would be the last time she ever saw him and yet, here she was on her way to live with him.  I don’t even know what to say when I see him…

The bus driver slammed on the brakes, throwing everyone forward in their seats.

“We will be taking a 15 minute rest stop,” the bus driver’s voice cracked over the intercom. “Please try to be back on the bus in 15 minutes so we can stay on schedule.  Thank you.”

Once off of the bus, the man disappeared into a convenience store, and Carly stood alone in the brisk evening breeze. Her hair danced around her face as she circled the bus, the knots in her muscles relaxing with each step.  Growing bored, she climbed the stairs and returned to her seat.  The man from across the aisle soon followed. Carly dug through her bag and pulled out a sandwich while the man dove enthusiastically into his bag of cheetos.  As more and more people filled the bus, the only sound between them was the crunch of his chips.

“It’s hard isn’t it?” he said as the engine grumbled and the bus struggled forward.  Carly looked up, confused.  “It’s hard when your parents split up.” 

Carly shrugged, not wanting him to continue.

 “Especially when they give you that, ‘It’s not your fault, honey,’ speech.”

“I never got one.  I was two.”

“Oh, well in my case it was my fault,” he flashed a smile.  “My dad wanted a dog not a kid.” 

Carly’s forehead wrinkled in sympathy.

 “Don’t look so worried.  I’m fine.  In fact, it worked out to my benefit: I was the first potty-trained kid on the block.”

“Well, that’s something to be proud of,” Carly couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” he smiled back.

Carly’s amusement disappeared and she stared at him, puzzled.

 “Why are you telling me this?  I mean, you don’t even know me,” she said softly.

“I guess,” he said slowly, “sometimes it’s just nice to talk.” He looked at her expectantly, but she glanced away.

“Well...I think I’m gonna catch some shut eye.  ‘Night.”

“Good-night,” Carly murmured, relieved that he hadn’t pressed her further.

Carly’s eyes felt heavy from the long day, but her mind buzzed with energy.  The bus fell silent as passengers drifted off one by one, and Carly was left alone, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.  The bus driver dimmed the lights and darkness enveloped the bus. The tiny aisle lights, twinkling meekly on the floor, were her only company.  Again, her thoughts betrayed her and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think about Bruce.  Who in their right mind would get married after six months?

“I don’t wanna be the flower girl,” she had told her mother.

“It would mean a lot to me, sweetie.  It would mean a lot to both of us.  Bruce was just telling me how happ--”

“Mom, I’m fifteen.  I’m too old to be a flower girl,” she had said, and then continued more quietly: “Plus, I don’t really care about making Bruce happy.”

“Carly, we talked about this attitude.  Bruce is going to be part of this family and you need to get used to it. Please, do it for me,” her mom’s eyes had begged along with her voice.

Carly had shut her eyes and breathed in. 

“I can’t.  I’m sorry, but everything’s different now.  You never even asked me if I was okay with it.”

Her mother had looked at her, shook her head, and left the room.

Eventually sleep overpowered Carly’s thoughts, but her mother’s tired, angry face hid among her dreams.

Sunlight peaking through the bus window tickled Carly awake the next morning.  She smiled, warmth swimming around her as she stretched, happy that clouds no longer crowded the sky.  She looked across the aisle; the man was reading the newspaper, sipping coffee from a styrofoam cup.

“Good-morning,” Carly said quietly.

“Oh, ‘morning,” he said smiling.

“Did I miss a rest stop?” Carly yawned.

“Yep.  You slept right through it.”

“Was I snoring…?” she asked sheepishly.

“Not too loudly,” he whispered.

Carly glanced out the window.  The trees had disappeared and cacti dotted the dusty landscape.  Carly swallowed hard and her heart skipped a beat.

“Do you know where we are?” she asked hurriedly.

“We’re in Arizona.  I bet we’ll be in Phoenix in a couple of hours.”

“Oh.”  Carly’s breaths quickened and her knuckles turned white as she gripped her armrest.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out.

“You’re hyperventilating.  Do you need a paper bag or something?”

“No. I’m fine. I just didn’t know we would get there so fast.”

“Where? Phoenix? Is that where you’re going?”

“Kind of.  I’m going to Tuscon.”

“Oh, well don’t get too freaked out.  You’ve got a couple more hours after Phoenix before we reach Tuscon.”

Carly’s nerves loosened their clutch on her stomach.

“So, I take it you’re not too excited about seeing your dad.”

“Not really.  I mean, I don’t even really know my dad.  When he lived in L.A., I hardly saw him, and he moved away when I was twelve.”

“Well then why are you going to live with him?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Everything always is.”

Carly looked at him, biting her lip. “See, “ she started hesistantly.  “My mom just got married… to a guy she’s only known for six months.”

He nodded.

“Bruce is the only serious boyfriend she’s had since the divorce.  I mean I want her to be happy but he changed everything.”

“And that’s why you’re leaving?”

 “No…yes…I mean you have to meet the guy.” Carly’s frustrations came pouring out before she could stop them.  “He moved in after a month and acted as if he owned the house.  Suddenly, my curfew was an hour earlier, I couldn’t watch TV after eight, I couldn’t date until I was sixteen…  He even convinced my mom to start going to church, and then of course she dragged me along too.”

“It could be worse.”

“How?”

“He could be an alcoholic or something.”

“I know, but he’s not my father,” Carly shot back.

“I never said he was.  Change is hard.  Did you talk to your mom about it?”

“I tried, but she was too caught up with him.  They decided to get married without even asking me if I was okay with it.”

“That’s rough.”

Carly shrugged off his sympathy.

“Parents can be inconsiderate—“

“But she didn’t even ask.  It affects my life just as much as hers.  She used to complain about how selfish my dad was and that he never took care of his responsibilities, but look who’s selfish now…”

“She should have talked to you about it, but maybe she already knew what your answer would be.”

“Lame excuse.”

“She loves him, right?”

Carly nodded.

“You want her to be happy, right?”

She nodded again, reluctantly.

            “So…”

            “So, what about me?  Don’t I deserve to be happy?”

            “Everybody does, but she loves him.”

            “Well, I don’t.  He’s not my father.”

            “Again, no one said he was and he never will be.  But you said that you don’t even really know your father, so maybe if you just gave this Bruce-guy a chan—“

“Who’s side are you on?!” Suddenly Carly became aware of the curious, staring faces of the other people on the bus. She lowered her voice and hissed:  “You don’t know me and you don’t know him, so just leave me alone.”  Carly’s green eyes glared fiercely, challenging him to say another word.  He was silent and she turned her back to the aisle triumphantly, drawing her knees to her chest, batting back tears she would not let fall.

            Several minutes crept by before the man bravely addressed her again: “Who are you mad at?”

“You,” Carly snapped, rolling her eyes. 

“No…who are you really mad at?”

“Everyone,” Carly whispered after a pause and slowly turned back to face him.  “My mom and I were fine alone.  She didn’t need him…she doesn’t need him.”

“Maybe she does.  Maybe she was lonely.  I mean you can’t fill a husband’s shoes.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that.  My dad remarried just a few years ago.”

“And did you like her?”

“Hated her.”

“See--“

“But then I saw how happy she made my dad,” he interrupted quickly.  “And so eventually I got used to it.  Just like you will.”

“I know… but it’s not just that.  She never wanted just me.  When my dad left she told him she couldn’t do it alone.  Am I really that much trouble?”

“Well…”he said laughing.

“Wait, don’t answer that,” she said, a small smile escaping from her lips.  “They just never talk to me.  My dad left so suddenly, I didn’t even understand what was going on.”

“I guess you just gotta make the best of what you got.  You love ‘em, right?  Flaws and all?”

Carly nodded, “Even though I hate them sometimes.”

“It's hard not to.”

“Why are families so messed up?” Carly sighed.

He shrugged, “Beats me.”

“He doesn’t even know I’m coming…What do I say when he opens the door? ‘Hi, Dad.  It’s me.  Surprise!’”

“You didn’t tell him?”

Carly shook her head.

“Does your mom know?”

Carly nodded.

“Well, he’s your father, so after his initial shock I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”

“But it’s the initial shock I’m worried about.”

“Well, at least you know how to get home.  Greyhounds get a poor rep, but they’re not too bad, are they?”

“No,” Carly agreed, her eyes softening. “Not at all.  So, have you decided where you’re getting off?”

“I’m thinking Phoenix and then maybe I’ll catch another bus and go up North somewhere.  I’ve been in the same place for so long I just gotta keep moving for now.  I kinda like not knowing where I’ll end up.”

“Oh,” Carly turned her face away, hoping to mask her disappointment. 

 “We will be entering Phoenix shortly,” the bus driver’s voice croaked.  “If this is your final destination, thank you for traveling with us today and I hope you’ll remember us when choosing transportation on your next adventure.”

Carly giggled at the driver’s scripted, monotone voice and lack of enthusiasm.

“It sounds to me like he’s the one who needs an adventure,” the man laughed.

“Arizona is going to be a lot different than L.A.” Carly said, eyeing the cracked earth and squinting from the unrelenting, white sun.

“Yep, it’ll be a change.  But change can be good, especially when what’s normal is screwed up.”

“A fresh start for both of us…” 

Outside the window, “WELCOME TO PHOENIX” caught Carly’s attention.

“We’re here,” she said trying to smile.

“I guess I better get my stuff together,” he sighed.

A few minutes later the bus stumbled to a stop.

“Well,” the man said, standing up, a grin spread across his face.  “This is me.”  He paused awkwardly.  Carly just looked at him, not knowing what to say.  He began to turn—

“Wait,” Carly blurted out. “I’m Carla Jemson.”  She stuck out her hand.

He shook it willingly, “Ben Hagen.”

“All departing passengers, please exit from the front of the bus.”

“It was nice talking to you, Ms. Carla Jemson,” his eyes smiled.

“You too.  Bye, Ben.”  Her eyes sparkled as he winked and then was swept away by the pushing rush of people eager to be outside.

The bus driver turned his keys and the engine awoke.  Carla looked out the window and searched through the crowd of people milling around in the heat, hoping to see Ben one last time, but he was gone.  She sank back into her seat as the bus pulled onto the road.

“Our next stop is Tuscon.  Approximate time: two hours.”

A bruised sky hung over the mountains, threatening the sunny day.  Carla smiled.  At least a storm would make it cooler.