That morning the clouds were the color of neglected oysters and tumbled over each other in a clumsy game of leap–frog. It was going to rain. I boarded my first city bus. This was years before smart phones and laptops. Dog-eared books, newspapers and gas bills were the distractions. The morning light dimmed. More people boarded. Claustrophobia whispered in my ear. I considered exiting. The doors closed, the bus shifted into gear and twitched with the gracelessness of a dreaming dog. Movement. Sudden stop. The doors opened and an impeccably dressed man climbed swiftly into the bus. The last passenger was a patchwork of color, patterns and crisp lines. A shock to the monochromatic rush hour. He was smiling broadly. Too broadly. Had he found the secret to eternal youth scribbled on a dry-cleaning ticket in his lapel? I could hear his cologne before I could smell his cologne. I sensed others on the bus knew him. He sat beside me and spoke with excitement. The words were beautiful and spoken with deep conviction, but did not string together. Before I could react, a lady called him by name and asked, “Are you excited for the funeral?” Others asked similar questions with a tone of routine. I did not understand, this being my first city bus ride and all. Three stops later the happy man in the colorful suit moved up two rows and blurted out another incoherent statement. Various people answered without looking up from their papers. It all seemed scripted. An older woman tapped me on the shoulder and whispered, “That’s William, and he loves to dress up and go to funerals. It makes him happy. The cemetery doesn’t mind.” Another man offered, “He would go every day if he could.” The pattern was repeated over and over as new passengers climbed on the bus. This was all so new to me, being my first city bus ride and all. When I stepped off the bus, William was excitedly talking to yet another passenger. The door closed behind me. The bus hissed and moved into traffic. I hoped for William’s sake, the rain would hold off for a couple of hours.
Posted on: Sun, 09 Mar 2014 14:18:34 +0000
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