Someone at the back of the bus has pulled out a guitar again. She’s strumming it and singing in a mournful voice:
“Oh, let’s be together again
oh, let’s be together again
oh, my lover
oh, I’m lonely
oh, my lover”
“When Humans come into existence,
even though a woman is abandoned,
she will find him again,
by means of my song.”
Don’t give up your day job, honey, Norma says, giggling.
I look at her. She giggles again. The bus pulls into another tunnel. It’s a signal for the passengers to stand up and rummage about in the overhead racks. Then, without warning, they start to surge forward.
Jeez, Norma says. You’d think they’d got someplace important to be. Or something.
The man with the two kids squeezes by.
Bitch, he says under his breath after he’s gone safely past.
I brace myself for Norma’s return blast. But she pretends not to hear. As if she suddenly doesn’t have time to waste or energy to expend on fighting.
Toronto, the bus driver says as the bus pulls into its designated lane in the terminus. End of the line. Please make sure to take all your personal belongings with you.
I look around. Personal belongings? Have I got any? I don’t see anything that might be mine. Not that I’d recognize it if there were. Of course, I could wait till everyone’s taken theirs – and then assume that what’s left is mine. But it doesn’t matter. No one leaves anything behind as far as I can tell.
Well, here we are, Norma says, standing. You coming?
I stand up and follow her out.
Watch your step, the bus driver says, offering Norma his hand.
You watch yours, buddy, she says, deliberately brushing him aside. I’m the karate queen, a killing machine.
The air smells of pure diesel exhaust. I lean against a concrete post and stretch, feeling my chest muscles crack. Norma stands beside me, the cigarette already one-third down. She offers it to me. I hesitate, then take a puff. I immediately choke and break into a cough.
Don’t smoke, I gasp, handing it back to her.
No shit, sherlock, she says, sucking on it so that the tip glows. What was your first clue?
The other passengers have finished taking their stowed luggage from where the attendant has deposited it by the side of the bus. Norma waits till the last moment – then rushes over to grab hers. It’s getting dark out. The shadows of buildings slink across the streets like square-edged fortress tops. Fortress tops? Slinking across? What the hell. I scrunch up in my peacoat and begin to wander off, not really sure where I want to go. The streets are slick beneath my feet as the slush turns to ice. I have some trouble keeping my balance. Winter. Yes, late winter. Or early spring. Very early spring.
Toronto, I say to myself. Is this where I want to be? A little late to be asking myself that, now isn’t it?
I continue down the street, sliding this way and that. I can feel the cold water soaking through my running shoes. It’s not very pleasant, sending a chill all the way up my body. I come to a corner. A busy corner. I look up at the signs. An intersection of signs: Bay and Dundas. The light changes, displaying the walk symbol. A little stick man looking a lot like one of those totem pole gods. Totem pole gods? Where had I ever seen a god before – let alone a totem pole one? I shrug it off and am about to cross when I hear a commotion behind me.
I turn out of curiosity. It’s Norma. She’s yelling and waving her arms in my direction. Then she picks up a pair of travel bags and races towards me. I decide to wait. By the time she reaches me, she’s out of breath.
Where in freaking hell do you think you’re going? she asks, bent over and gasping like she’s about to die.
Bookmark/Search this post with:
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
