LJIdol Week 24 - I’m the Usain Bolt of running from my problems
The late bus to Watertown Road was a beat-up old thing that had run for decades. Still, it was fairly reliable... except for that rare, foggy night every few years when there was no way of knowing where it might go, and who-or what-might be riding it.
--
It took nearly a minute for Brittany to fish out every last coin from the pockets of her fraying sharkskin jacket. Afterwards, she counted out $1.57, then reached for the “Take a Penny - Leave a Penny” plate to grab the last two cents. She placed them all in a small pile on the counter. The attendant looked down, then shook his head.
“Sales tax.”
“But it’s food.”
The attendant picked up the box of 1.9 calorie “Fruit Adventure” flavored Tic Tacs and gave a small chuckle.
“Won’t grow up big and strong on that diet. Anyway, state classifies it as a breath mint.” They both paused, waiting for the other to speak next. The clock ticked a few times in boredom. Finally, the attendant broke the awkward silence. “Don’t have another ten cents hiding in there?” Brittany continued to point her stone face at the counter. Behind her purple mirrored sunglasses, her eyes were counting the steps to the door. At 41, she was a step slower than she once was, even if she still looked like a teenager, and she needed to start being more careful. Last night’s near fiasco at the roadhouse had confirmed that.
In her mind, she was already out the door and past the bus stop across the street when the Tic Tacs container returned to the counter. The attendant dropped two nickels one at a time from his hand onto the pile of coins, then swept them all back into his other hand.
Without a word, Brittany snapped up the plastic container and headed for the door. The attendant stared after her, watching the Scrunchie at the end of her single black braid bouncing off the back of her fishnet covered thighs. Then she was outside and gone. He uttered a soft “You’re welcome” to the dwindling rain that blew in through the doorway. Shaking his head one more time, he opened the cash drawer, and started sorting the coins. By the time he realized that several of the “quarters” were really just large grey buttons, Brittany was already ascending the steps onto the bus.
--
“Mind the step. Bit slick this evening.” The elderly driver stared out intently through wiper-smudged windows as Brittany scraped her boots on the glistening steps. Stopping one step from the top, she leaned forward, reached slowly into her bra, and pulled out a plastic card that she slid through the reader. The movement was lost on the driver, who continued to stare ahead and pay her no mind. The reader beeped and turned green. Brittany waited, blinked twice, then returned the card to its home, still without a response. Torn between impressed and insulted, she straightened up and headed down the aisle. Only then did the driver move to close the doors, which dimmed the lights.
The bus was sparsely populated at this hour, and she had her choice of seats. The glow of the yellow running lights mixed with the purple of her sunglasses hampered her vision, turning the few passengers there were into darkly prismatic shapes. She made her way towards where she determined the midpoint between the axles to be, hoping to reduce the turbulence of the road. There she turned, shrugged her shoulders, and dropped the wet jacket on the aisle seat.
“Oy!” came a high pitched cry from below.
Brittany spun on her heel and stepped back, almost tripping over someone.
“Watch it!” called out a deep voice.
She whirled again, caught sight of a massive hand reaching out towards her, and fell sideways into an empty row as the bus lurched into motion.
“Please take your seat,” droned the driver from up front, still intent on the road ahead.
“And your jacket,” called out the high voice, now behind her, and Brittany found herself covered in wet sharkskin. Too stunned to move, she sat as if frozen as water slowly dripped down along the side of her nose. When it reached her mouth, she finally reacted, slinging the jacket off her head as she slid her back to the window.
“Hey there. You okay?” It was the same resonant baritone from before. Now that she could see him, she saw it didn’t appear to be a him. Also, she… it… wasn’t human. At that moment, Brittany’s brain decided that between the lack of sleep and minimal nutrition, this had to all be a hallucination, and shut down.
--
Staring out the window at the buildings going by, Brittany began to feel calm for the first time in ages.
This city really and truly is sucking the soul out of me. Was there ever a time I actually wanted to be here? How long have I wanted to get out of here? It feels like I was always saying “tomorrow.” And now, finally, tomorrow is today. And soon my ship will sail away from here.
When she passed by the same building for the third time, she made two realizations.
This is wrong.
I escaped this city already.
This was her past, sort of. She was dreaming. She knew that now, which gave her an advantage. Knowledge was power, even in a dream. Summoning all her strength, she forced her head to move from side to side, trying to break the pull of the memory.
“You all right?”
“I will be. Thanks.”
She hung up the phone and laid back on her bed.
Well, that’s that then. You’ve got no friends you can hang out with anymore. You’re single. You’ve got no job. You’ve got no prospects. You’ve got no hobbies. You’ve tried dating. You’ve tried going to bars. You’ve even tried knitting. And now? You sit home alone because there's nothing left that you can do.
Time to get out of here. Time to start over. Again.
Brittany stared up at the ceiling, then closed her eyes. Life felt hard. Everything felt hard. Honestly, even the bed felt hard. And where are the pillows? And where is that loud mechanical noise coming from?
--
The bus engine belched mightily, forcing Brittany back to consciousness. An additional rattle of wood on wood greeted Brittany’s ears as her old bedroom faded away, followed by a deep voice calling out quietly.
“Your 5 beats my 1, so that’s now 37 to 26 me. Maybe you’re on a comeback.”
“Of course I am, I told you I was lucky!”
A shallow wooden shoebox floated in the aisle between the seats. Literally floated. There was no supporting hand or table or arm rest. No strings either that Brittany could see. Just the box. And a small winged creature, which her brain told her was a sprite, standing on the corner peering into it.
“Go ahead, choose your die and roll again,” called the deep voice from the other side of the bus.
The sprite dipped into the box, returning with a bright three-inch magenta cube covered in dots, and tossed it in the air. It was nearly half the size of the creature, yet the toss nearly hit the ceiling. The box moved slightly and caught the large spinning die on its downward arc.
Yellow or blue, thought Brittany to herself.
“What did you say?” Unsure if she was still dreaming, Brittany spoke out loud this time.
“Yellow or blue. Grime Dice. Magenta loses to yellow or blue, but beats olive and red.” The small creature turned to look at her, anger spreading over its face. Brittany backed up towards the window, but there wasn’t far she could get away from the situation.
“You… You… You’ve been cheating me!” Brittany flinched, but the last of the high-pitched scream was directed away from her, towards another. A figure which turned to look at her with its non-human face. It was like nothing she had seen before, but her brain called it a troll, so it stuck.
“Did I follow the rules? Did I let you inspect the dice? Did I let you roll the dice yourself? Did I let you choose your own dice, including which one and how many?”
“…Yes.”
“So how was it cheating?”
“You knew which dice beat which other dice! That’s cheating!”
“No, that’s being smart.”
The conversation was so close to normal, even in a setting so absurd, that it somehow calmed Brittany down. She turned away from the argument to take in her surroundings. She was on a bus. Okay, that fit. And the Tic Tacs were there in her pocket. And it was dark out, though the rain had subsided. Okay, everything was vaguely how it was supposed to be.
Then she turned back to the squabble next to her.
“It’s fine, I was just trying to pass the time anyway. Here, we’ll call it even - no harm caused.” The troll tossed a dozen or so small coins into the box. The sprite was still standing, arms crossed, wings fluttering, silent and staring. Then, he was gone, as were the coins.
“Sorry about waking you up. My ride companion is a little short on manners. And intelligence.”
“Cheater! The lady’s a cheater!” The high-pitched voice cut through the air from behind her seat.
“Oh shut up old man! Sorry again. I did try to wake you up earlier, in case you meant to get off at the last stop, but you shook your head at me and just went back to sleep. I do hope you didn’t miss your stop.”
“How… How long have I been out?” I’m talking to a troll on a public bus.
“A while. There’s just the three of us left on here. Oh, and the driver of course. And that one in the back. Not sure if he’s actually a passenger or not.”
Brittany peered around the corner of the seat towards the bench at the back. Instead of the normal five seats, she saw… That can’t be right.
“There is a pasture in the bus.”
“On the bus, actually. That happens each time he falls asleep. When he wakes he becomes a British chap. Or it does. I don’t know. Anyway, whatever he is, he’s friendly, but… I think he isn’t supposed to be here. Probably just misread the bus schedule.”
Brittany tried to process the information, failed, then moved on to more pressing matters.
“How far are we from the next stop?”
“In time or distance?”
“Either. Both. Does it matter?”
“The fastest way from A to B is not always the shortest. Nor need it be all that fast, either. In fact, the shortest time sometimes feels the longest.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“That we will be there in no time, but it may feel like a lifetime. May as well get comfortable.” She pointed forward to the large analog clock above the driver’s head which read 10:14. Underneath was a small plaque stating “Time to next stop” with an arrow pointed upward. As Brittany watched, the minute hand moved counter-clockwise one tick.
“I… I need to get off of here.”
The troll sat back in her seat and laughed.
--
“I can’t stop here.” The driver still wouldn’t look at her, but at least he was responding.
Brittany looked out the windshield and saw nothing, just headlights peering forth into a foggy veil. Glancing left and right she saw no additional lighting that could tell her where she was, or even how fast the bus was moving.
“Then I need to get off at the next possible stop.”
“You should only get off at your stop. That would be the right stop.”
“The next stop, no matter where it is.”
“But that might be the wrong stop.”
“The NEXT stop.”
“As you like miss.”
“Thank you.” Brittany took one last look into the fog, then headed back to her travelling companions.
I am getting out of here. It ain't no victory but I don't care. I don't care if it’s wrong or right.
--
Back in her seat, Brittany took stock once more of her situation.
Time was a luxury she had always taken for granted. Now, where her time until whatever came next was set by someone (or something) else, she found the lack of control made her hungry. It was an odd response to the situation. And an unfortunate one, given her decidedly meager rations.
Conserve energy. Provide the minimum to satiate the needs. Take it one step at a time.
She tipped the container over, grabbed the tab, then turned the box 90 degrees. An old trick that left one Tic Tac on the lid while the rest retreated back into the container. Easier now that the bus was on smoother ground. She held the solitary morsel between her thumb and forefinger and calculated. There should be about 60 in the pack, so that would allow her approximately 1 every 10 minutes. Presuming the clock was accurate of course. An unlikely presumption.
“You gonna eat that?” She had been staring at the Tic Tac for a while, and the sprite was eying the sugary bite longingly.
“That’s food?” cracked the troll.
“Hey, that’s two meals worth of Grade A energy for these tired wings.”
Brittany pondered briefly. What was barely enough calories to her to give her the energy to chew and swallow it, could power the sprite for a day. Even her self-centered nature wasn’t that egotistical. She laid the mint in her palm and held it out towards the sprite.
With a slight tickle, the Tic Tac disappeared. Moments later, the sprite was nibbling on half of it while the other half was already stored away in his pack.
“I… I’ve never met a sprite before.”
“You expected something more bubbly? More sugary sweet?”
“No, I… what?” The sprite laughed at her discomfort.
“Sorry, old joke.”
“Yeah, a very old joke, just like you are.” The troll roared with laughter, making Brittany’s ears hurt.
“Go hide under a bridge, Aszea.”
“Bite me, Mitah. If you still have any teeth.” The troll held out her arm towards the sprite and laughed again.
Mitah grumbled under his breath, then turned back to Brittany. “So. Who are you and what brings you to our bus this fine evening?”
--
Brittany finished her story as the clock neared zero hour, only then realizing she had never intended to tell the truth. She was so used to lying, it felt almost improper.
“The both of us are runaways.” Mitah had listened closely throughout, and apparently appreciated what Brittany had said to him. “I'm glad we're both the same.” Okay, maybe he hadn’t listened that well. She felt sure she would not say the same back if she heard his story. To avoid any embarrassment, she decided not to reciprocate his request for information.
“There are some things you just can’t run away from,” came Aszea’s voice. “Life is going on all around you.” She paused and looked Brittany directly in the eyes. “What are you holding on to?”
“Nothing. Everything. What should I hold on to?”
Aszea responded with a smile as the bus shuddered to a halt. The troll and the sprite quickly began to gather their belongings and head to the door. Brittany followed them to the front.
“Wait, where are we?”
But Mitah was already gone. Aszea turned back briefly, raised her eyelids, then turned and disembarked into the darkness. Brittany stopped, staring out the doorway into the endless void beyond for what felt like an eternity.
“What is this place?”
“All things to everyone,” responded the driver.
A spark of light appeared off in the distance, coinciding with a familiar high-pitched voice calling out to her.
“Run, runaway.”
She faced the driver, unsure what to do next. The driver looked at her for the first time and smiled, then gave her a slight push on her elbow.
“This is your stop.”
Brittany turned back, took a deep breath, and descended the stairs. Then she ran after her new companions, and never looked back.