bus

 from Fragments

He looked up from the book in his lap as the Greyhound bus squeaked to a stop at the Greenville station. 

The old woman next to him had fallen asleep on the trip up from Charleston and leaned her head on his shoulder. 

Her face was as wrinkled as the bark of an ancient magnolia tree, and was the same beautiful brown as its trunk and branches. 

She breathed in, and the air made a soft, whistling sound through her nose. 

She breathed out, and it made a gentle, flapping sound through her lips. 

“Life is a symphony,” he chuckled to himself.

“Ma’am,” he whispered. 

She didn’t move.

She kept right on sleeping and snoring. 

“Ma’am,” he said a little louder. 

Still only whistling and flapping.

“Ma’am,” he said a little louder still. 

This time he reached out and patted her weathered hand. 

She opened her tired, brown eyes and smiled a small smile at him. 

“Thanks for lettin’ me use yo shoulda as my pilla,” she said with a gravelly voice. 

“First time I woked up beside a man in a long time. 

Hope my snorin’ didn’t bother you none,” she giggled. 

“No ma’am,” he said with a giggle of his own,

 “It was music to my ears.”

His knees and back snapped and popped as he stood slowly and smoothed the wrinkles in his pants and shirt. 

“My goodness,” said the old woman, “You make music, too.” 

He placed his hand gently on her bony shoulder. 

“We could start a band called The Human Element,” he laughed. 

“People would come from all over to hear us whistle, flap, snap and pop. 

What do you think?”

“Yep, they’d pay us a bundle of money to hear that.”

He pulled on his jacket and waved to her. 

“Goodbye, my friend,” he said. 

“Thanks for the song.”

She waved back. 

“Thank you,” she said. 

“And do me a favor. 

Lean on down here and let me tell you somepin’.”

He leaned down.

She kissed him on his forehead with a light, tender kiss. 

“That’s the kiss of a guardian angel,” she whispered. 

“Look closely, listen carefully, and don’t be afraid.”

He stepped off the bus and onto the street. 

Small groups of people were standing around, waiting to welcome their travelers. 

No one was waiting for him. 

“Oh well,” he thought, “I might not be welcomed with a kiss, but I was sent out with one. 

And by a guardian angel at that. 

So I’ve got that going for me.”

The early summer sun was bright in his eyes and made him squint.

He put two quarters into the slot of a newspaper rack beside the bus station and took out a copy of the days news. 

He walked a block toward Main Street and found a small diner that served breakfast from 5 A.M. til 10:30 A.M. and meat and three veggies for the rest of the day. 

Little bells rang as he opened the glass door and stepped inside.

“Buenos dias,” said a waitress.

“Welcome to the Scrambled Egg. 

My name’s Gabby and today’s my first anniversary of workin’ here. 

I’ll be servin’ you today.”

“Hey Gabby,” he said. 

He reached out to shake her hand.

“My name’s Elias. 

It’s been a year since I’ve been to the upstate. 

Happy Anniversary to us!”

“¡Gracias!

Where you comin’ from?”

“I came up from Charleston through the night on a Greyhound bus.”

“The low country, huh? 

I love the low country. 

There’s nothin’ like wakin’ up early and walkin’ on the beach. 

Good gracious, I bet you didn’t get much sleep on that bus! 

Come over here to this table by the window. 

It’s the best seat in the house.”

“Thank you.”

“What can I get you?”

“Well, I could use a hot cup of coffee, pancakes and some scrambled eggs.”

“Then you’ve come to the right place. 

I’ll be right back with your coffee.”

He took out his notebook and pen.