The Broken Date

∆10∆

Jack's POV:

I tried to scream. But no sound came out.

Using strength I didn't know I had, the desperate strength that comes to those in their moments of deepest trouble, I pulled away from the hands that held me.

I leaped onto the bus and grabbed hold of the change box to support myself. The doors closed behind me.

“Did you see him?”I cried to the driver, my voice high and wild, an animal shriek.

The driver had adjusted his head out the window. I saw that he was adjusting the rearview mirror.

“Please, did you see him?” I repeated, still gripping the money box.

The driver slowly pulled his head in and turned to me. “You need a transfer?” He was a big man, almost too fat to fit behind the wheel. His uniform shirt was open, the narrow red tie pulled loose. He badly needed a shave.

I looked down the long bus. It was empty. I was the only passenger.

Humming to himself, the driver turned the big wheel and stepped on the gas. The bus lurched forward. I stumbled into the first seat.

I looked out the window at the bus shelter. There was no one there.

No one on the sidewalk. No one in the street.

We past the boy on his BMX bike. The boy waved to the driver. The driver ignored him. “Did you see anyone behind me?” I asked, sitting down and searching my swim bag for the couple of dollars I kept in there for emergencies.

“Sorry, sir. I can't wait for your friend,” the driver said, misunderstanding. “I've got a schedule to keep. Even on Sunday, believe it or not.”

“No. No. There was someone there. I mean, someone was behind me. He---”

“Sorry.” He turned the wheel hard to avoid a pothole in the street, almost throwing me from the seat. “I wasn't looking. I've been trying to get that mirror all morning. You know how it is when it's off just a little bit and you can't get it the way you want it? It's a little thing, but it drives me bananas. Know what I mean? Do you drive? Oh. You're too young, huh?”

“I have my temporary permit,” I said.

I found the dollars, stood up, and dropped it in the box. “You ok?” The driver asked, glancing away from the road to look at me.

“I---I'm ok.” I didn't want to talk anymore. I thought of walking to the back of the bus to get away from him. But I didn't want to appear rude.

“I've got a son,” the driver said, making a wide turn onto Maplewood Drive. “But he ain't like you. He's a big boy. Too big. I guess he takes after his dad. Ha ha!”

I didn't know what to say. I stared out the window. I tried to stop from shaking. But I could still feel the strong hands around my waist. I could still feel them grasping me as I struggled to climb onto the bus.

Who had it been?

And how did he disappear so quickly?

“I don't know why I buy them for him. I guess it's hard to say no. Know what I mean?” The driver was saying, gesturing with both hands, letting the wheel guide itself.

I had no idea what he was talking about. “Yeah, I guess,” I said.

We were only a few blocks away from Mark's house. If only I could stop trembling. . .

I wanted Mark to comfort me, to put his arms around me the whole he always did when I was nervous or upset, to pull me close and make me feel warm and safe.

Warm and safe.

I uttered a loud sigh.

I would never be able to feel warm and safe with Mark again.

With anyone, maybe.

I had trusted him. I had loved him. I had built my life around him.

Ad he was a murderer.

“Well, he didn't exactly mean it that way. But that's how it came out,” the driver was saying.

We passed Creedmore and Van Buren, passed houses I knew so well. I had been coming to this neighborhood for so many years. Such a happy place. Such a perfect place.

“I'm not that strict, but I believe in discipline. Know what I mean? I'm a pretty understanding guy, but sometimes. . .”

“The next stop is mine.” I said quietly.

I suddenly felt cold all over.

I ran my hand through my bright, green hair. It was still wet. Feeling the tangles, I realized I hadn't remembered to brush it back at the Y. I probably looked like a wild man. No wonder the bus driver asked if I was ok.

He had stopped the bus at the corner on Sherwood. I forced myself to stand up, and started down the steps. “Thanks,” I called back to him.

“Nice talking to you,” he said cheerfully. “Have a nice day.”

The door closed behind me. I stood motionless on the corner as the empty bus rumbled away.

Have a nice day?

Did he say have a nice day?

The sun poured down, hotter than before, but it didn't warm me. I took a deep breath and looked up the block toward Mark's house. No car in the driveway. The front door was closed. Maybe no one was home.

Then what would I do?

Run away? Wait? Go crazy?

I forced myself to stop thinking, to walk and not think. I tried to make my mind as blank and white as the sunlight.

But it was impossible.

How many times had I made this short walk from the corner to Mark's house. How many times had I passed the sprawling red brick ranch house with the black shuttered windows, and walked up the gravel driveway to the small front stoop surrounded by pansies and geraniums? And knocked on the screen door? And waited eagerly to be invited into the little house?

Sure, it was much smaller than the other houses on the block. And sure, it was badly in need of painting. And the gutters were disrepair. And the shingles had fallen off one side of the garage.

But it was such a warm place.

It had always meant so much warmth to me, such warm feelings, such feeling of love.

I stepped over the Sunday paper, pulled open the screen door, and, remembering that the doorbell was broken, knocked on the door.

Was this the last time I'd be knocking on this door? The last time standing on this stoop?

All the warmth, all the love, lost forever.

I peered into the small window in the door. The house was dark. No one was coming to answer my knock.

I knocked again.

And waited.

One more try.

I turned to leave?

The door suddenly pulled open.

Startled, I spun around and started to say hi. But stopped with my mouth open.

The man at the door was a total stranger.

Word count: 1168. I'm so glad I got this out today! I honestly didn't think I would...but I did so yee.