Bus

I never get phone calls. I live with a dinky little flip phone that I’ve had since 2006 along with a cheap landline telephone; anything more modern would go to waste. Nobody ever calls me except for telemarketers and I don’t think they’d appreciate it if I vented to them after a hard day’s work.

So it comes to me as a huge surprise when the landline phone rings at eight at night, snapping me out of a daze while I’m watching the news on the crusty old futon in the main room. And when I check the caller ID, it’s not a total stranger’s number. Imagine that.

I pick it up, furrowing my brow and struggling to keep a grin down. I know exactly who’s calling, and that’s what makes it better. “Hey,” I speak, finding myself leaning against the wall like an eager schoolgirl.

“Jesus Christ, I thought you were dead. You need to call me more often,” Carrie breathes on the other line. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Ask away, baby sister,” I mock. That was one little term she always hated. I don’t know, I’m just enjoying this little amount of contact we do have. I never get to talk to her. Things are crazy within the two…well, three-person Tater clan. Wait. Four-person, counting our weird uncle in Washington. Anyway, North Carolina’s a long way away, trust me on that.

She lets out a little bit of a growl, not surprising me. “Shut up, Doug,” she hisses, then gets back on topic. “Look, me and Ezra were going drive to California to see her auntie, and I was wondering if it would be alright if we stopped at your place for a night or two.”

I blinked. “Either you just called me a girl, or we have a sister you never told me about. Who’s her ‘auntie’?”

“Madison. You know. The one who introduced me to Richard in the first place and led to me getting cheated on and pregnant with the only hope we have of continuing the Tater family,” she said bluntly. Ugh. Richard. The name made me want to kick small animals – he was her fiancé before he got caught cheating ages ago. And thus Carrie ended up preggers with Ezra, her kid. My neice. Who I’ve never actually met. Well, I met her when she was in Carrie’s stomach, but I don’t think that really counts.

“Yes. Because I’ve met everyone you’ve ever come into contact with,” I smirk, rolling my eyes. Sisters. “Especially ones you’ve talked to in the past four years…”

“I was in a band with her all throughout college! And hey, that’s your fault you can’t get off your butt and get out here to North Carolina,” she defies. The sass in her voice is the same as it’s always been. She still sounds like a teenager. “Of course, if you got a job that you actually liked and got you paid worth a crap, that’d be a different story.”

And like I knew it would be, the conversation is steered back to my craptacular job. “Don’t diss the guy who’s gonna be keeping you here for a day on your magical journey to Disneyland.”

She exhales heavily in relief. “You’re gonna let us stay?”

“I don’t see why not. Well, why the hell can’t you guys go to the Disneyland in Florida? It’s closer…”

“They’re not the same, Doug,” she informs. I could practically see her leaning on her hip. “And what’s wrong with me wanting to see my brother for once? Jeez.”

I run a hand through my hair, realizing how greasy it naturally is. “You want to see me? Yeah, I’ll believe that when a plane crashes into Yuma and everyone survives…”

She laughs loudly on the other line. For some reason I just get the instinct to smile again, and for a moment I feel kinda happy. “I can tell you’re gonna be fun to stay with. You’re still so freakin’ negative, Dougie.”

“Don’t call me Dougie, Carrie,” I threaten, suddenly turning serious. I hate when she calls me that. I hated it when we were kids, I hate it now.

“Whatever, Doug.” She snickers some more into the phone, but then trails off, getting back on subject. “Email me your address. I’ll call you later and tell you when I’ll be there, okay?”

“Sure.”

Carrie hesitates. “I love you, Doug.”

“Christ, you’re such a girl,” I cackle.

“Seriously! I never get to see you…” she persists, and out of nowhere I feel bad.

“Alright…” I sigh, digging a hand into my pocket. Not used to this, so I force out a mumbled, “Love you too.”

“I’ll see you later.”

I hang up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, I can’t sleep. I know, it’s so stupid to not be able to get any energy just from something as trivial as having a visitor, but still. We’re talking about my sister here. And my niece, who I never even met before. Milestones, man!

Four years. Four freakin’ years. The ones that came before those dark four years were spent working retail at a damn Mal-Wart and then quitting after the money wasn’t giving me crap and after getting my CDL certificate from taking stupid night classes. Then I wallowed in misery for a bit before joining the Yuma school district bus driver squad, or whatever the hell you wanna call it. I’m not really a huge part of it since I was only needed for one route for one school, but I still show up in their list of drivers, so yeah. A few months went by and I discovered what true misery was, and then I spoke to Carrie for what would be the last time in nearly half a decade.

All of a sudden, my life sort of has a meaning. And it’s like, holy crap! I have a reason to shave in the morning! I can smile at the mere thought of it.

It’s a double whammy, here. First of all, I get to spend a day with my sister. Good enough. I can live with that already.

But you wanna know the best part? And the part that I’m kinda feeling stupid for saying out loud since it seems so ridiculous but by God it’s amazing?

I get to take the freakin’ day off from driving Satan’s little dingleberries to school.

I relish in that thought. It’s pure music to my ears, sweetness to my taste buds. I can picture myself skipping in a field of flowers – marigolds, roses, daisies, sunflowers! – twirling around in a cloudless meadow, kittens and puppies romping around at my feet. The grass is made of sugar and the air smells like chocolate chip cookies. The flowers sing to me sweet melodies of Led Zeppelin and Yes, all the while telling me how good of a person I am and how much I deserve to live.

And as I look around that imaginary pasture, high on the simple thought of freedom, there isn’t a bus loop for miles.

I fall asleep that night, finally, with that thought in my head. For a while I can’t help but think of myself as an idiot for it, knowing in my head that it’s so ridiculously stupid. But then I remind myself that they’re my thoughts only and it’s not like anyone else is gonna see ‘em. Besides, I deserve to be stupid every now and then. As long as it doesn’t get me into something I regret, anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Carrie’s coming on Wednesday. She says she’s gonna shoot to get to my place in the morning, sometime around ten. Beyond that, I have no clue in hell what we’re gonna do. It’s not like I ever go out on the town and know what kind of attractions and crap we have here.

Still, regardless of not knowing anything more, I can’t seem to wipe the smile off my face on that Tuesday afternoon as I drive the brats out of the bus loop and on their ways home. I feel like a maniac, grinning like this. It’s just not what I do, you know? I’m surprised none of them are freaking out right now. I know if I saw myself like this and were in their positions, I’d be terrified I’d pull a knife on all of them.

I pull the intercom talkie up from its cradle and begin speaking into it, hardly able to contain my excitement. “Okay, I have news for you guys.”

Everybody falls silent and all eyes are on me, from what I can see from the rear-view mirror.

“I’m not gonna be here tomorrow,” I speak calmly, “so you’ll have a sub.”

And suddenly, cheers burst out in waves from them all, whooping relentlessly in the aisles and out the windows like I just told them their school just blew up. If I were new to this, I’d take it as an enormous insult. I don’t really give a shit right now, to be honest!

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Woo hoo. Party.” A red light flickers on ahead, so I slow down like I learned how to in training – slowly. “I want you to be on your best behavior. ‘Cause if the sub puts in a bad word for you guys, your butts are all gonna be on the line. Just so you know.”

“Where are you going?” a girl – I think her name’s April or something – asks, leaned over her seat (the front seat, as always).

I shrug. Ain’t like nobody hear wants to hear my life story. “Um, family’s in town.”

“You have a family?!” Jack (some loser/poser seventh grader) snorts. “Man, I’d hate to be your parents!”

This is exactly why I’m looking forward to tomorrow.

“I’d love to be my parents. That way I’d be dead,” I grumble under my breath. Anger seeps through for just a moment, but then I remind myself of everything I’m hoping for and it stops.