8
C
harly's eyes stretched at the sight of the passengers. They varied in looks and cleanliness and age, she noticed as she made her way down the aisle, happy to be on her way. She plopped down into an available seat, one that was far enough away from anyone who appeared to be dirty or shifty. A smile spread and she nodded. The doors had closed, the bus had pulled off, and Charly was ready for her greatest adventure yet. She was headed to New York to move in with her aunt, find her dad, and snag two of her dreams: landing a spot on television and becoming Daddy's girl again. Or at least she thought she was. About fifteen minutes into the ride, a horrid smell lingered in the air, a stench so strong she swore it was drifting above her, mistlike, like in a fabric softener commercial. She covered her nose for fear the rankness would shoot up her nostrils and strangle her with funkiness. Her stomach turned, and the bus cruised and bounced and jerked, making her already uncomfortable feeling vamp into full-blown queasiness. Charly looked left, and the swaying cornfields made her dizzy. Closing her eyes, she stilled herself, waiting for the feeling to pass. She opened her lids and turned to the right, and someone's huge dented rear end was only inches from her face. The person, bent over, had on faded salmon-colored polyester pants, complete with an elastic waistband. Worse yet, the person's butt crack showed.
“Umph,” Charly grunted, certain that she could smell what she was seeing, and, sure enough, to her stomach's dismay, flagrant booty odor assaulted her nose. Charly was certain she was only seconds away from throwing up in her own mouth. Her hand was clasped over her lips before she knew it. Her arm was through the handles of her tote and on the back of the seat hoisting her up while her feet were planted firmly on the floor helping her catapult to a stand.
“Excuse me!” Her yell, muffled by her hand, came out loud and strong as she pushed past the perpetrator of stink, then hustled her way down the narrow aisle toward the bathroom in the back.
Charly had never been so disgusted before. She stood in the tiny cubicle of a restroom, surrounded by a much worse smell than she'd run from. Her insides lurched, and she didn't know whether to toss her cookies standing erect or bending forward. If she vomited while she stood, it'd get all over her clothes and the tote bag. If she bent over the disgusting excuse for a toilet, she was certain she'd die. The metal bowl hadn't been flushed properly, and wads of usedâskid-markedâtoilet paper were inside and on the seat. Charly's head bounced on the wall behind her, thanks to the bus jerking. Deciding it was too late to be concerned about dirt or lice or God only knew what other kind of infestations from the wall, she leaned against it, pulled the collar of her shirt up over her nose, and tried to settle herself, breathing in her own perfume. She was on a mission. She would succeed. If she wanted to be on prime-time television, surely she could pull off a bus ride. Those were the things she told herself, but her stomach didn't have ears to hear, and it continued to turn.
A banging on the door made her forget why she was there. Suddenly her heart raced and her stomach stopped turning. She'd never been on a commuter bus alone, and the rapping stiffened her. She wondered if the minutes she'd been in the lavatory were beyond normal bus etiquette.
“Little girl? Little girl, you almost done? You okay in there?” a woman's voice asked.
Charly straightened her shirt, hoisted the tote over her shoulder, then opened the door. A pleasant face and, thankfully, a flowery scent of an elderly woman greeted her. Charly guessed the lady had to be in her late sixties. “I'm finished,” Charly said, then thought about it. “But I wouldn't go in there if I were you. It's nasty and it stinks.” She held up her hands in surrender. “And it wasn't me. I swear.”
The elderly lady smiled, revealing too perfect dentures. She nodded. “I'm sure. But I didn't come to use the restroom. I came to check on you. You seem . . .” She put her index finger to her lip. “. . . well, let's just say as a mother of five and grandmother of twelve, and with the experience I've had in my seventy-two years, I can kinda tell you've never rode the 'Hound by yourself before. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. You know, with traveling alone and all.”
Charly returned the smile, glad to have met a caring person, especially an older one. Her life had taught her that she could trust senior citizens. “I'm fine. I was a little queasy from the smell and other things,” she said, deciding to keep the butt crack part to herself. “And thank you for checking on me. You're right; I've never traveled alone before,” she added as the woman began to make her way back up the aisle. Charly followed and stared. The nice elderly woman had on faded salmon polyester pants with an elastic waistband.
The butt odor had been her imagination, Charly realized as she sat across the aisle from the elderly woman, who smelled of cheap flowers and had insisted Charly call her Grandma Anna. Smiling and relieved, Charly felt an immediate connection to the old lady and found herself telling Grandma Anna her entire life story. She was as comfortable with her as she'd been with all the other elderly people in her life, namely the crew at Smax's.
“So your momma took all your money? That's awful. Just awful. I don't know what's gotten into these chillun calling themselves parents nowadays. Mommas stealing from daughters. Lawd.” Grandma Anna shook her head, then rubbed her hand on the worn Bible on her lap, which she referred to as her insurance policy. “Good God up in heaven,” she declared, raising her hand in the air and closing her eyes. “Stealing? And from such a good child too? Put your hand on her, God. Cover and protect Charly with the blood of the lamb, and make sure she goes Your way because she's not her momma's child, she's Yours.”
Though it felt strange, Charly closed her eyes and listened to Grandma Anna's prayer as warm tingles traveled up her spine, then wrapped around her bladder and squeezed. She had to pee. Badly. But there was no way she was going to the lavatory again.
“Amen,” she repeated after Grandma Anna, signaling the session was done. “And thank you. Again. Butâ” Charly perked up and smiled, patting the tote that held her purse, where she'd put the hundred Bathsheba had given her, and tried to forget that she had to go to the bathroom. “Brigette didn't take all my money, just what I stashed in the old suitcase. Luckily for me, I still had my money from the restaurant, and my friends and sister gave me what they had before I left.”
Grandma Anna nodded, and a warm feeling covered her wrinkled face. “I'm so happy to hear it. That's good, baby. A real good thing for them to do.” She reached into her oversized pocketbook, pulled out a handful of peppermints and butterscotches, then proffered them to Charly. “Have one?”
Charly nodded, then selected two butterscotches. She wiggled in her seat. “Mind if I take two?”
Grandma Anna laughed. “Of course not, baby.” She winked. “But it's gonna cost you.” She laughed.
Charly laughed at the joke as the bus jerked to a stop at the Amtrak station in downtown Chicago. “We're already here,” Charly exclaimed, unable to believe they'd arrived so soon, but happier than ever. Now she could start the next leg of her trip and free her bladder. She grabbed her purse, jumped up, and was making her way toward the exit before she knew it. She needed to be one of the first to collect her luggage from the driver so she could get to the restroom. Suddenly, she stopped. She was in such a rush to relieve her bladder and get to the train that would take her to New York that she'd forgotten about her new friend who couldn't move as fast as she. Grandma Anna. She turned, excused herself, and zigzagged her way between the passengers who'd lined up behind her, and made her way back.
“I'm sorry for leaving you, Grandma Anna,” she said, peering around a couple of heftier people she couldn't squeeze by. “Stay there. I'm coming to help you off.”
Grandma Anna waved and smiled her warm smile. “You gotta learn to worry about yourself, Charly. I know it sounds selfish, but I learned long ago that sometimes in this here world, that's the only way to make it. Look out for yourself.” She nodded. “And with the journey ahead of you, you'll learn it too. Fast. Trust me on that. God helps those that help themselves. I'll meet you outside.”
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Charly couldn't remember ever seeing so much activity in her life. She tightened her grip on her wheeled luggage with one hand, and on Grandma Anna's arm with the other. She held the elderly lady to keep her steady and away from the riffraff she spotted while searching for a restroom sign. The Amtrak station was crowded with people moving to and fro, bumping into one another and not excusing themselves, and, to her surprise, innumerable homeless people. Her eyes widened. She'd never seen so many people without homes before. Her Midwestern hometown, though not a silver-spoon community, had very few down-and-outs, and she'd never seen people living in cardboard boxes, pushing shopping carts filled with what looked like trash, or standing on milk crates waving their respective religious books, damning everyone to hell for not feeding them.
“It's okay, child. You don't have to hold me so tight. I'm pretty spry,” Grandma Anna assured, then pointed to an open waiting area. “There. We can sit over there,” she said.
Charly wheeled her luggage, one bag belted to the other, and shook her head. There were two sections of seats facing each other, but not one was empty. Worst of all, there was not a bathroom sign in sight. She danced in place. “There's no room.”
Grandma Anna unhooked her arm from Charly's. “ 'Tis so. Watch this,” she said, still headed to the occupied seating.
Charly followed, watching and wiggling. She had no idea how Grandma Anna planned to pull it off, but something told her the old lady would. Nearing the waiting area, her eyes widened when she saw where Grandma Anna was standing and whom she was talking to.
“Wow,” she said, looking at the guy facing Grandma Anna. From where she stood, he looked like a painting. He had flawless skin, a nice shirt, and dark jeans covering long legs. He turned in her direction at the obvious insistence of Grandma Anna, who was pointing her way, and nodded and smiled. Seeing opportunity to flirt unfolding, Charly wiggle-walked right up to Grandma Anna's side, eavesdropping and taking in the oh-so-beautiful boy all while looking for a place to relieve herself.
“You seem like such a nice young man,” Grandma Anna said to the guy, then looked over at Charly. “And this here is the sweetest girl in the world, the one I was just telling you about. What's your name, son?”
“Solomon,” he said, then stood. Looking down at Charly, he licked his lips, then half smiled. “Pardon me,” he excused himself, stepping out of Grandma Anna's way while his eyes were still on Charly. “Take my seat, miss.”
“Grandma Anna,” Charly said, mistaking Solomon's statement for a question. “And I'm Charly.”
Solomon gave a slight head nod. “Charly. I know, she told me.”
Charly gritted her teeth and begged her knees not to give. Cute or not, Solomon couldn't stop her bladder from needing to be relieved. “Whew” accidentally escaped her, and her eyes darted around.
“Child, go to the bathroom already,” Grandma Anna said. “I'mma be fine right here. Don't you worry 'bout me. Just set your stuff here.” She scooted over in her seat, allowing room for Charly's small tote, and pointed to the floor in front of her. “Nobody's gonna bother your suitcases with me here.”
Charly nodded, then shook her head as she danced in place. “Okay. Solomon? Do you know where the bathrooms are?” She set her tote next to Grandma Anna and wheeled the bigger attached suitcases in front of her.
Solomon took Charly by the hand. “No disrespect, but it's the only way we're gonna part this sea of people. Together. Come on,” he said, then pulled her through the crowd.
In the bathroom Charly splashed water on her face, then dried her hands. She may've been traveling, but she still wanted to look her best. Especially because Solomon was waiting for her outside. She fixed her eyebrows, then noticed how shiny her face was. Reaching for her purse to take out her blot powder, she realized it wasn't on her shoulder, it was in the tote. She shrugged. If this Solomon guy was interested, he'd be interested with or without her using blot powder to get rid of the shine on her forehead. “Maybe not,” she told herself when she walked out of the bathroom, and he was nowhere to be found.
“Hey,” Solomon said when she went back to the waiting area. He smiled big and wide. “I'm supposed to look out for you,” he informed her.
Charly crinkled her brows together. “Huh?”
Solomon got out of the seat he'd let Grandma Anna sit in. “Go ahead and sit. I'm good standing.”
Charly sat, looking around. “I still don't understand. What do you mean you're supposed to look after me? Where's Grandma Anna?”
“Well, your grandmother had to go. Said something about you and her going in different directions, and, oh, she said to tell you you're all paid up.” He shrugged. “She said you'd figure it out.”
Charly's eyebrows drew together. “Huh? What? I don't understand. Is that all she said?”