Autumn's Concerto

"Bella! Bella! Isabella!"

"Sorry, sorry. Yes?"

"Last order of your shift. Table six." Eric handed me a hot plate to balance in the palm of my hand. "And be careful. Don't spill the customer's order in their lap like yesterday."

"I won't." Carefully, I picked my way through the people, a drink in one hand, a burning plate in my other. There was an easy aisle between tables, made larger since when I had been hired for this purpose. The people at table six were regulars and were aware of my more or less disability of clumsyness but were very nice about it.

"Here you go," I said, smiling, successfully setting their large plate of fries to share on the table without incident. "Enjoy."

I was back in the kitchen, taking off my apron, when my manager came out, waving an envelope that was the light of my week. "Here you are, Bella, full week's pay," he handed me the paper and I felt a sense of relief in my chest. "And," he opened the freezer. "And, and, and this." He held a bag of cut chicken out to me with a flourish. "Take this home for dinner tonight."

I went to take the bag, then stopped. "That's very kind of you, Mr. Webber. But I can't afford this."

Mr. Webber smiled kindly and leaned in conspiritor-like. "Who said you were paying me for this?" He gently pressed the bag into my hands. "It's on me. You work hard. Think of it as... as a raise for your hard work. Oh, and you must get it home quickly or it will spoil."

I stared at him, and then at the bag. We had only been eating left overs the night before and with this, I could actually make Sue and Peter an actual meal. Biting my lip, I gave in. "Thank you, Mr. Webber."

He grinned wider and pat my shoulder. "Any time, Bella." A bell rang over the door and he jumped a little. "Oh, the Marlers are here. Time out and we'll see you tomorrow." He left to seat the customers.

I felt guilty taking the bag... but Mr. Webber had said that I could. And I had put an extra few hours in.

I caught sight of the clock on the wall and gasped. Grabbing my bag off the table, I threw my money in it and threw the bag over my shoulders as I ran out the door. I had to catch the bus at eleven and then walk two blocks to Masen University for my next job.

I was only a short walk from the bus stop when I saw the bus pull up and then open and close the doors almost as soon as it pulled up. "Hey! Wait!" I began running after the bus cursing under my breath. They knew I was coming, I always took the bus come rain or shine, even hail. "Wait!" I tripped over my own feet and landed on my face, scraping my hands on the way down. I was used to this, however, and was back up trying to catch the attention of old Mr. Clearwater who rode the bus to the city from the reserve every Tuesday. I was just about to give up and try to find some other way to the Univeristy when the bus slowed and the doors opened. Tripping up the stairs, I fished out the change and collapsed in a seat. The bus driver rolled his eyes and continued on his way.

I held the bag of chicken up to make sure there was nothing wrong with it especially since I fell. But it was still cold, meaning I did have time to get it to the University's kitchen before it went bad and then I could easily get it home to prepare.

I sighed, relaxing against the seat and closing my eyes. But as time passed, I had to open them, despite how tired I was. I looked out the window instead, looking at the greenery I had known since I was young and counting cars as they passed. I sighed again, fogging the window to the point where I couldn't see out. I was deciding if I was looking forward to this new job or not.

Suddenly, the bus came to a screeching halt, throwing all of us forward, sprawling me out into the aisle.

"What's going on?"