The One-Forty-Seven

The bus smelled like chewing gum and motor oil, and the old woman across the aisle wouldn’t stop staring. The dog on her lap shook in a vibratory manner, head periscoping wildly as it tried to see everything at once. It whined and I glanced back up at the woman; still she stared, the thin line of her mouth admonishing me. All of a sudden I felt naked and looked away, toward the front of the bus, like if I let her look into my eyes too long she’d know who I was and what I doing. I should have stared back at her, given her the evil eye or something to make her look away, but once my gaze had fallen on the girl sitting near the front of the bus I didn’t really care anymore. She was bundled up in a puffy coat, one of the ones where it looks like after they made it they filled it with marshmallows or something, and she wore a long skirt and striped orange and purple leggings. I’d say they were panty-hose, but I don’t think that’s right. I couldn’t see her face really, couldn’t see much but the ear and her jawline, and her dark curly hair, but from where I sat I imagined she was beautiful. And maybe she was. She was probably the most beautiful girl on the bus, anyway.

I didn’t see any other girls.

I started to have this feeling in my chest, like maybe I was going to pass out, and so I closed my eyes and thought about how great I was doing so far. How I was so close to getting out of the city, and away from the life I didn’t feel I wanted to be a part of anymore. I was putting it behind me - my dad, my school, my job. My sisters, I’d probably miss them. They’d be missing me right about now, and knowing that made the feeling even stronger. I touched my pocket and felt for my wallet, because that’s all I had. The clothes on my back and eighteen-hundred dollars. It ought to be enough for something, somewhere. I was thinking out west. Kansas, maybe, but I hadn’t made up my mind yet.

I looked back at the girl, and imagined she could be part of my new life. I would walk up to her and say, “Hey, I’m getting out of here, and I want you to come with me.” She’d smile and say she’d been waiting her whole life for someone to say that. It was a stupid thing to think, but I thought it anyway. Then I thought about Emily and Elizabeth getting out of school and walking to the car. Waiting for me, and when I didn’t come, shrugging and leaving anyway. I felt really greasy inside, but I told myself the feeling would go away once I’d gotten on a train.

The bus stopped at red lights, made its turns, ingested and excreted people at regular intervals. The girl with the puffy coat got off at the Marchant Street stop, and as she walked past me her real face destroyed my fantasy. The old woman across froma me continued to stare, and her dog continued to seize.

“What?” I wanted to say, I wanted to scream at her. “What are you looking at?” But I held my tongue.

She got off at the next stop, bringing from her side a previously hidden red and white cane and allowing the dog to lead her out the back door.

And, figuring my adventure was over, I got up and followed, leaving the smell of chewing gum and motor oil and cowards behind.