Olan L. Smith's Short Stories

All Roads Lead to the River

©2016, Olan L. Smith

Depending on others to drive you place via public transportation is sometimes a pain, because you can't just go the moment you leave the door. You have to wait. Okay, Olan, I say to myself, grow up. Life is about waiting, waiting to be born — I am sure there is some womb memory that asks, "What are we waiting for?" And then it is waiting to go to school like the big kids, waiting in lines, waiting to drive a car, and waiting to die. I'm at the retired stage where everyone is waiting for me to move, thinking hurry up; old man can't you move any faster than that? This day, I am leaving the podiatrist office where I waited to be seen, waited on the doctor, and now am waiting for my ride.

Sometimes the ride is early, but I am earlier than expected, by forty-five minutes. Do I wait inside or out? I ask myself. It is too cold to wait long outdoors, but too hot indoors to be bundled up like I am. I decided to call the transportation agency that handles rides for us independent old folks. "Hello, this is Olan. I got out early and was wondering if you could send someone early."

"Okay, I will see what I can do," was the response.

I walk outside and spy a bench up the way. I walk up and sit down and wait. It's not long before a tall bus used for transporting the handicapped pulls up. I flag them down and they pull over. I carefully climb the steps on the van, everything you do at my age is done carefully, as a fall would spell disaster. I pulled out my ticket stub for them to punch, as I did I noticed an elderly man seated behind the driver. At first, I did not recognize him, but soon I realized it was Salom, a driver. "Hi," I said. "I hardly recognized you as a rider."

"Yeah, you are used to me seated behind the wheel. Today, I am training a new driver. Her name is Sandy."

"Howahyah?" She says. I don't recognize the accent at first. "This is my firsfihst day—I'm from the St. Louis area."

I make a small take as Salom looks for his single-hole puncher to punch my ticket. "It will take you a while to learn the city, but the funny thing for me is St. Louis was easier to learn than Columbia. In St. Louis, all roads lead downtown."

"Ain't that the truth." She replies. "We used to joke, 'Stay's on the roan long enough and you'll end up down by the rivah.'" Sandy talks fast and sounds more like a Boston native than from St. Louis. Somehow the r's are missing or out of place. Eys ghew up novth of Ghand Stheet, you know the ahrearers." She has gotten it her head that I am from St. Louis. I corrected her.

"I didn't grow up in St. Louis, but my older brother used to live there, after sixty-four."

"Yahs remembah when they put the last section into the Ahch?"

Salom's from St Louis as well and chimes in. "I sure enough do. We all watched it in school. Every TV set was tuned into it."

"Yeah, I remember that. didn't they have to pry it apart about sixteen inches to wedge in the last section? I didn't see the last piece go in, but my brother took me downtown when they were getting it ready. I was eleven, I think."

Salom replies, "Yeah, something like that, I know they had some problems getting that last piece into place."

Sandy adds, "That was somethim." I remembah as keds we used to run all ovah the place, withouf a wohay, now the keds all stay indoahs. Foahs us it was punishmunh to have to stay indoahs. Evahthings all revahsed, now days."