Dancing-with-Baptists-Createspace-Final--A4

DANCING WITH BAPTISTS
Greyhound.”
“Sure is, that’s where all the rest of the white
bread went. If you were heading for Texas you just missed it. Not five minutes ago.”
Discouraged, Greg pulled the toothpick out and started to take a bite of the hospital special.
Esso.
“If I ain’t mistaken,” Mayor Charlie remarked, “That bus is stilling fillin’ up over at Quincy’s
Greg spun on his stool and went toward the window.
joked.
“Course, these windows are so greasy, it could be the Starship Enterprise,” Mayor Charlie
Through the glass Greg could see the tail end of a bus just over a block away.
Greg ran back to the counter, grabbed his gym bag and the rest of his grilled cheese and ran out
the door.
“THE HOSPITAL DON’T TIP!” Lutrena yelled after him.
“Oh forget it, Lu, he’s one of our fightin’ boys,” Mayor Charlie offered.
“Shut up Charlie or I’ll come pop those suspenders myself.”
“Okay, okay calm down. He ain’t registered to vote here anyhow. You want me have Eugene
stop the bus and get you a big tip?”
As Greg ran he saw the backup lights on the bus brighten. He heard the gears grind just as he
reached the passenger side. Greg’s left hand slapped the racing dog logo hard and the woman in the
window above looked down to see what it was. She must have alerted the driver because within twenty
feet the bus stopped, the door opened, and Greg jumped on. For a moment Greg looked down the
long narrow aisle and saw no familiar faces. Panic set in as he considered the possibility he had stopped
the wrong bus.
“You almost didn’t make,” the not-so-friendly but very familiar bus driver observed. “Where’s your
ticket?”
“I gave it to you in San Francisco when I got on.” Greg reminded the surly driver.
“Oh yeah, the soldier with no pants.”
Greg was going to correct the soldier thing but it wasn’t worth it. The bus lunged away from the
gas pumps making Greg have to grab onto the upper luggage racks to stay upright. Greg made his way
back to his old seat and his worst fear was realized. Chap’s manuscript was not where he left it.
Greg parallel-barred like a gymnast using the overhead bins back up to the driver.
“Did you see some papers back where I was sitting?” Greg asked.
The driver did not answer.
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