Mommy is taking my brother to a violin lesson on the other side of Topeka. She doesn't have time to drive us to our dance lessons. I think that means we won't be going to dancing today. At the last minute Mommy has an idea.
Things can change quickly with Mommy. One minute something can be happening and the next another thing entirely. Most of the time I don't even try to understand what is going on. Sometimes I get really scared and my tummy hurts when I don't know what is happening. Today is one of those times. I feel younger than my 6 years, as if time is being erased from my life and there is nobody around to notice.
Mommy parks our car on a small side street. We spread out as we cut across someone's yard to make it around the corner on our way to Gage Park Boulevard. Up ahead of us ia a little blue sign that has a picture of a bus on it. As we are walking toward the sign Mommy gives my big sister quick instructions: "Get on the next bus that comes by. Give the driver this money. Pick a seat and sit down. You know what Mrs. Thomas's street looks like. When you see it, tell the bus driver. He will stop and let you off. Then you can walk to your lessons.
Now my sister and I are standing by the bus sign alone waiting. The exhaust from the cars speeding by burns my eyes and I turn my face away from the road. I watch Mommy walk back to our car. She opens the door and gets in. It isn't until she starts to pull away from the curb I realize she is leaving us. Panic overtakes me and I bolt toward the car. I run as hard as I can, chasing her for two blocks. When I can't see the car anymore I stop and fall into a heap on the ground. For a while I can't see anything because I am crying too hard. Why is Mommy leaving us here? Feelings upon feelings collide in my head and I have no way of stopping the avalanche. Will I ever see Mommy again? Someone is pulling at my arm, trying to get me to get up off the ground. My hands are covering my eyes. I hope it is Mommy who has come back for me. I take one hand away and look up into the eyes of my sister. I wait for her to say something. All my life she has been there for me--my protector, even though she is only 16 months older than me. When I look into her eyes now I get really scared. The usual sparkle has drained away. Her eyes are blank, like she isn't there at all.
The metal doors of the bus open slowly and a sharp hiss of air puffs into my face. I stare up the big metal steps and don't know how I will ever make it to the top. I feel as though I will be swallowed up. My breathing is uneven. There are some adults behind me, impatient to get on the bus. With urgency my short legs struggle to climb. I use both hands and my knees. I try to grab the railing I see above me but when I reach for it I almost lose my balance. Finally, I get to the top where the floor is covered with a thick black rubber mat. Dried clumps of gritty dirt crumble under my shoes.
I am on the bus standing in the path between the seats, waiting in a line of people. My hands are dirty and a little red from climbing the stairs. I stand behind my sister as close as I can. I want to disappear. I have never actually been able to poof myself away from a scary situation but thinking it is a possibility helps slow my heart down. It is beating so loudly I am sure all the other passengers can hear it! My head is spinning. I shut my eyes to steady my queasy tummy. I sense the rigded stiffness in my sister's back. I lean in closer--trying to find safety in the grey squares of her plaid wool coat.
My sister has never ridden a bus before either. I try to fool myself into thinking she will know what to do! The sleepy little town we live in is about an hour from here. It doesn't have stoplights or even a stop sign. The only buses are orange ones that pick up the farm kids and bring them to and from school. Our town is so small we don't even have strangers.
That is really important because the thing Mommy says over and over and over every Saturday when we are driving to Topeka for lessons is, "Never, never, never talk to strangers, no matter what!" Does this mean if I don't know someone they will hurt me? Or if I do know them I am safe? There is no way my sister and I will be able to get all the way to Mrs. Thomas's today on this bus without talking to someone we don't know.
I peek at the driver who is sitting behind an enormous steering wheel. He is wearing a brown uniform with brown gloves without fingertips and a brown baseball hat. I can't read what it says on his hat because my glance in his direction is so quick. I do see the first word starts with the letters T O.
I can't stop looking at the driver's skin. It is much darker than the life quards at our town's swimming pool at the end of the summer. I have never seen anyone with skin like his. Is he sick? What kind fo illness would make your skin turn such a dark, dark black brown? I am torn between staring and wanting to shut my eyes. Is he one of those strangers Mommy talks about?
We are standing in front of the dark man. A man in a blue suit carelessly bumps into me as he tries to get around us--pushing me right into my sister. When she turns around to give me a dirty look, I see tears on her cheeks.
I think to myself, "Don't cry! I need you to be strong and keep me safe!"
Big tears spring form my eyes. I really don't want to cry. She always makes fun of me when I cry and tells me I am a baby. Now, look at us! I am afraid of what will happen if the other people see us crying, so I [put my head down and pretend to be interested in the floor again.
A large dark hand reaches toward my sister and takes the money she is clutching. The driver swivels around in his seat, reaches down and pulls out a little worn leather bag. He stuffs the paper money into the bag and takes out four silver coins. He drops three of them into the metal box beside him. The coins jingle and rattle clear to the floor. He hands my sister the fourth coin. She grasps onto that coin until her knuckles turn white, as if her life depends on it.
The bus lurches forward. My sister grabs my arm and pulls me into a cracked black vinyl bench seat beside her. I suspect the other people are staring at us, so I sit very still and look straight ahead. Every block or two the bus stops at one of the blue bus signs. Some people get on and others get off. When we are moving the sun goes shadow, light, shadow, light as the bus passes by the trees. The faster we go the more the light flickers like an old-time movie.
We sit and sit and watch people get on the bus and others leave. Pretty soon the bus slows down and stops. Everyone has gotten off the bus. The only ones left are my sister and I and the dark man. He stands up. I watch him stretch. He reaches his arms up so high he practically touches the ceiling. He comes walking down the aisle and stops, towering over us.
"Where you girls going'?" he asks in the deepest voice I have ever heard. I wait, willing my sister to answer.
"I don't know, " she whispers.
"Do you have an address where you're goin'". I think I want to trust him because I like his nice eyes--but he is a stranger.
"No" she says a little louder but with a quiver in her voice.
"Where is your mommy?" he asks.
"I don't know"...my sister looks down and her voice trails off.
He turns, walks back up to the front of the bus and sits down on his seat. He pulls his sleeve back and looks down at his wristwatch. His dark face reflects in a gigantic mirror above him and when he looks up and catches my; eye, he winks and looks quickly away. Then he drives around the block and pulls back onto Gage Park Boulevard where he begins stopping the bus and letting people on and off again.
When I hear my sister practically yell it startles me. "This is the street we want!"
The bus driver slows down and moves the bus toward the curb. The heavy metal doors fold in two like an accordion as they open. I stand at the top of the steps and look down. Going down looks scarier and seems more impossible than coming up. Suddenly I just sit down, shut my eyes and scoot down as fast as I can on my bottom.
A lot of cars are driving on the busy street today. Traffic stops from both directions and waits for us to cross. Once we get across the street my sister walks quickly ahead of me on the sidewalk. I have to run to keep up with her. When I see Dorothy Thomas's little white house I burst into tears again. Just then I see Mommy sitting in our car in front of Mrs. Thomas's house. I race toward her. I want so much for her to leap out of the car, pick me up and spin me around, holding me close and never ever putting me down. Instead, she doesn't get out of the car or even look in our direction. She sits, eyes straight head and does not move. She does not say a single word.
During the silence that follows, everything in my world tilts and goes into slow motion My mind starts turning, churning, tumbling over and over and over like watching a dryer at the Laundromat. I am spinning in my body at first and then I am floating in the air. My mind tries to figure things out. How upset is Mommy? How upset is Mommy? How upset is Mommy? Is she angry with us for being afraid? Is she angry with us for being afraid? Is she angry with us for being afraid? The words making up my thoughts stretch farther and farther and farther apart until everything is a jumble.
My sister breaks the spell when she opens the car door and we pile into the back seat. As soon as I feel the old quilt that cover the seat I feel safe again. As the car moves toward home my eyelids get heavier and heavier. I am happy now that we are with Mommy. I am okay now.
