Fireflies

Prologue: Lost & Found

                                                                           SAGE

June 4th

I watched her standing there at the vacant bus stop.

Her tattered jean jacket fluttered in the wind and her short dreadlocks whipped about her head. She only had a medium sized duffle bag on her, which she slung across her back. I couldn't see her face - just her back - but she appeared to be staring intently at something ahead.

I was curious at what. There was nothing ahead but an empty Dunkin Donuts. 

I wondered if she knew that this particular bus stop had been empty for years.There would be no bus coming today.

Probably not.

I didn't recognize her. I knew everyone in this small town called Riverdale. I've lived and loved here forever. And quite frankly, there weren't that many black people here either. 

She was immobile. Long leg and limber looking. Maybe she was a dancer. Her chocolate skin took on a lush glow underneath the weak streetlight. Dusk would be upon us soon.

Could she hear me over here, softly plucking away on my ukulele?

Sometimes I would come to play against the bricks of the old abandoned shoe factory right across the street from where the Greyhound stop used to be. I thought the place had character. Like somewhere, a picture of this sad, empty...beautiful lot stood on the wall of some fancy gallery -a lamenting ode to middle America. 

I didn't want to scare her, but I had to know her name...or at least what she was doing here.

I looked at my clock: 5:15. Dinner would be on the table soon and Mama was expecting me. I didn't want her to wait here alone.

I got up and dusted off my ripped Levi jeans. I tugged at the worn flannel, opting to button up the front of my bared chest. Habit of a farmer's son.

Tucking my "yuke" as I affectionately called it, underneath my armpit, I ruffled my hair and walked toward the girl.

She was exactly sixteen steps away. I counted. When I reached 14 I let my feet shuffle to a slow stride and approached cautiously.

"Um, hi..." I murmured softly.

She didn't start like I thought she would. Most girls I knew would jump outta there skin if somebody 'proached them from behind. But she didn't flinch not one bit. She didn't even turn to look at me as I stood beside her.

I leaned away from her and peered sideways to get a closer look at her face. Was she dead or something?

I scratched my head.  Hm, maybe she didn't hear me.

"Hello!" I said in a stronger tone. I moved a hand to wave in front of her face and that's when she came alive. She recoiled away from my hand as if I were going to hit her. She sidestepped and swung her head around revealing the deepest, darkest eyes I'd ever seen.

"Whoa, whoa. Hey now. Easy there. I wasn't gonna hitcha." I put my hands up in surrender.

She looked confused. Her eyebrows were furrowed. She stared at me for what seemed like forever and then she sighed. I relaxed my tense shoulders and dropped my hands.

"See?"

She was pretty, this girl. I had nothing to judge her on  except the black women I'd seen on t.v. but this girl had a genuine aura about her. From her unruly and curly dred locks to the dark Timberland boots she wore over her yellow knee highs she looked disheveled but kept. How could that be? I've never looked so good, sloppy. She made carelessness seem like a fashion statement. And those eyes...