A Long Stretch

I rise at one thirty in the morning.

The water pill is working me. I get up and use the john and return to bed, but with my eyes closed I don't fall back to sleep, instead all I can do is lay about with racing thoughts. Maybe I need a LAMICTAL. I rise once more, but instead of heading to my line of medicine bottles on the dresser I head to the living room, checking the connectivity there. MICHAEL is up and up hard.

I'm online in seconds, jacking in and sending out my last emails of the day. I do this shit, if you can believe it or not, for four hours until the alarm clock goes off in my parents room and they shamble out like zombies from Dawn of the Dead. They are amazed that I'm up already, packed and dressed. They get ready, I eat cereal.

I'm not liking the idea of the trip ahead. My parents feel this, and think I'll ask to stay longer. But the truth is, it's time to go, we both know it. Soon, my father is beeping his horn outside and I'm throwing on another coat against the chill and hustling down the outside stair with my bags. The car backs away from the house, bathing it in the glow of it's headlights against the pitch black of the early morning gloom. There are a sparse number of cars on the road. We cover ground without saying a word, soon pulling into the gas station.

There is light banter between us but no goodbyes. I could have been heading over to a friend's house across town. There is are no tears, no profound comments even as the bus appears on the main drag of the town and turns ponderously into the defunct gas station. I open the door but a woman parked in the car next to ours has her door opened first. I close mine and watch as she fiddles around. Rotund, clumsy and quite dumb from the outset, she makes a production out of moving two large bags. I wait for this sorry sack of bones to waddle from between the cars before I can drag my fat ass out with my bags and head for the bus driver, who is standing outside, hand extended to the approaching penguin with the two bags.

I'm behind her, handing over my sports bag but slinging my backpack onto my back. I give a glance to my parent's car. My father is standing outside, a glad hand waving in the air. I wave back, and then follow the bouncing ball into the bus, as she, now working with one bag, struggles to get down the aisle to a seat. Some motherfuckers just should not travel.

The bus lurches off, turning back onto the main drag of the town and bolts out of Ahoskie city limits in the blink of an eye. Before I know it, we are pulling into Rocky Mount North Carolina station. Here, we have a bus change. Guess who is the only one getting off with me. The round penguin with the two bags. She waddles up to the door of the station and stands there, waiting for me to open the door. I oblige and instead of going in sideways, to accommodate the expanse of her frame, she goes in forward, with bags on both sides and fights to get in through the doors. I wanted to plant my foot square against her back and propel her like a cannon ball into the station. But no. I stand there until her idiot self works herself and her bags into the station.

I head to a counter with the closed gate pulled down and spy a ticket clerk on the other side. With some reluctance, I ask: Excuse me, I know you're closed but can I ask, where do I go to get a bag tag for my bag? "Oh no, we're open, sweeetheart. I'm who ya ask." Well, that makes a lot of sense, you having the closed gate thing down here, I obviously say to myself. I work out giving her my ticket and getting my bag claim tag back from her. "Are ya waiting for the Washington bus?" Yeah. "Well," she bangs away on the keys to here system on the desk. "I can tell ya, you're goin' to have along time. The bus jes' pulled out of the station in Virginia an hour late. That means that it's goin' to be at least an hour late gittin' here." I look up at the clock on the wall. The second hand ticked atop the twelve. It was 8:30am. The bus was due at 9:30. An hour late would make it 10:30am before it arrived. Two hours.

I walk to a nearby bench, near the penguin and take a seat. She rocks her bulk up off the bench and waddles off to the bathroom.

It's going to be a long wait.
It proves to be just so.

Hobobob