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“Sweetheart, it’s 7:10 already, you gotta get up.” After she turned on the light, Sharon left the door open and went back to her bathroom. She woke up late too and was rushing for the 7:47 bus. She looked in the mirror undecided if she should laugh or scream that her hair never flowed right when she was in a hurry. Instead she gave up and went in the kitchen to make a bag lunch for her daughter. The kitchen was warmly lit by the rising sun that seeped in through the curtains. Sharon rested her eyes, not needing them as she drifted to one drawer to the next gathering the bread, the chips, a knife, butter, bologna, chocolate pudding, and a tomato. Every morning was the same.
Sharon finished packing the lunch bag and walked back to her daughter’s room. Tori was jumping up and down on her bed with her shirt inside out. “Honey, come down right now! You know we need to catch the bus soon or we will both be late again. I can’t afford to be late again.” Sharon pulled on her arm in a forceful, but loving way, dragging her into the bathroom. Tori fought back, slipping through her mom’s grip and back on the bed jumping and singing her favourite song. “Jump, jump! Jump, jump,” completely unlike Van Halen, but embarrassingly similar that any outsider would figure out that she must have heard it from her mother’s 80’s rock collection. An obsession from her past. Sharon never liked other people to think of her as that kind of person who can’t let go.
She again pulled Tori off the bed and into the bathroom to comb her hair and brush her teeth. Sharon held Tori’s arm with one hand and the brush with the other, thinking if she got any stronger, there was no way she would be able to keep her under control. “Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy,” Tori yelled as she struggled under her mother’s hold. Sharon squeezed a bit harder, but it wasn’t enough before Tori ran out of the room with a white rim of toothpaste outlining her mouth and dripping down her chin. Sharon shook her head and wished that her daughter’s bed could be in the bathroom, so she might stay in one place for two minutes. But she thought it wouldn’t matter, she would only find something else in her room to play with to avoid her morning bathroom routine.
Sharon looked down at her watch, 7:50, late again. She got Tori dressed and ran out the door to catch the 8:01 bus down the road. The short man with the glasses was there fiddling with his MP3 player. He always seemed to have problems with it. He ignored Sharon and her daughter as they approached with the bus following behind. The short man entered first with Tori on his heels to greet the bus driver with an enthusiastic hello. Sharon felt relieved it was the nice driver today, who never gave her or Tori any problems. Sharon found a side seat in the front and pointed Tori to the other side. Tori sat down, swinging her feet and still singing Jump. As her song continued she was back on her feet almost falling down as the bus turned left. Her mother caught her at the last second as usual and noticed the short man and the older blonde lady in the back both shaking their heads.
They reached the next stop and the young man in the suit and tie walked in. Always dressed up, probably trying to impress his boss every day, Sharon thought with a smirk. Tori leapt up and cut in front of the narrow walkway, blocking the young man. She spun around in circles getting herself dizzy until it felt like the world had turned on its side. Her mother caught her again and apologized to the young man as he hurried to an open seat.
She held her daughter tight by her side, stroking her hair slowly to calm her. Sharon kept her head down, as she felt the eyes of the other passengers on her. Her heart beat fast, but she didn’t show it. She stared at her daughter’s profile. Observing her blinking eyes, her tongue as she constantly licked her chapped lips, and a nose she saw every day when she stared at herself in the mirror. Sharon squeezed her a bit harder, not to restrain her, but to make her daughter feel loved. Sharon loved her more than anything.
They reached the next stop and a couple more familiar faces entered. The older lady, with the heavy jacket on in the summer, walked by and smiled at them. Sharon liked her. Behind her followed a very pretty girl, around the same age as her daughter. Sharon discreetly watched her as she went by, thinking what her mother must be like. Was she a good person? Did she love her daughter every day? Was she careful? The questions continued as the bus reached the train station and they all exited. Tori screamed “Bye, bye” to the bus driver and Sharon and the driver smiled at each other in a silent goodbye.
The next morning Sharon woke up to two alarm clocks. Her boss saw her entering work late again yesterday and did not look pleased. She sat up and imagined pushing the snooze and falling back to sleep. If only imagination was reality. She slowly crept over to Tori’s room without turning on the hallway light. The door was open a crack as Sharon slipped her fingers inside and opened the door quietly to not wake her daughter. She kneeled down next to the bed and let her eyes adjust to the darkness. Her arms remained at her side while her eyes focused on her daughter’s breathing. Tori was on her side facing her mother. Sharon felt a tear swell up in her left eye as the persistent questions haunted her. Am I a good person? Do I show my daughter love every day? Was I careful?
Sharon looked down at her watch, the one she received from her mom on her 16th birthday, and felt relief that they made it for the 7:34 bus. The short man was there again shaking his MP3 player. As they waited for the bus, Tori ran around the bench working herself into a sweat. Her mother let her go hoping she would tire before the bus came. The bus appeared around the corner and came to a hard stop a few feet passed the stop. Sharon noticed the older blonde lady sleeping in a back seat behind a couple having an animated conversation. She grabbed Tori and directed her to the door. Sharon stepped up to find the bearded driver at the wheel staring her down, telling her without a word to control her daughter.
The driver closed the door and sped to the next stop as they tumbled down into their front side seats again. As the driver came to a stoplight, Tori was on her feet spinning around and singing “La, Laaa, La, Laaa!” to the annoyance of the driver and other passengers. Sharon reached out and grabbed her hand, stopping Tori’s body, but not her mouth. She put her other hand over her daughter’s mouth, but the muffled La’s tickled as the sound vibrated through her fingers. She laughed and hugged her daughter closer.
At the next stop, many people entered, including the well dressed young man who never seemed to wear the same tie twice. They filled up the remaining seats and Tori immediately noticed how many people were on the small bus. She looked nervous and sat quietly next to her mother. As the bus rushed to the next stop, many more people were waiting patiently until they noticed no seats remained. The older woman was there, wearing a thick sweater decorated with Christmas trees, looking out of place in July. She smiled again and made her way back as someone gave up their seat for her. As the rest filed in and crowded the bus, the pretty girl came running toward the bus waving it down. The driver gave her a grumpy look, but opened the door. She stood near the entrance looking out the window near Sharon. Sharon noticed her smooth face, her blue eyes. The girl didn’t blink as if her thoughts would break when her eyes closed. The girl’s stare suddenly turned to her. Sharon immediately dropped her gaze to the floor, and the questions returned. Am I a bad mother? Did I hurt Tori? Was I not careful? Her heart beat faster again.
Tori was shaking in her arms. Sharon knew that Tori felt uncomfortable in a crowd of people. Before that thought finished, Tori jumped up and knocked into the a man standing beside her. The force was strong enough to knock the man back into the other passenger behind him. The other passenger yelled out in surprise so loudly that it made the driver almost swerve into an oncoming car. Sharon jumped up in terror and pulled her daughter to safety. The driver slammed his brakes and stopped the bus on the side of the road. He turned his head towards Sharon and barked, “Keep your kid under control or get off the bus!” The other passengers nodded in agreement.
That same night, Sharon lay in her bed staring at the darkened ceiling. The shadows from the leaves blowing outside her window didn’t distract her. And she didn’t blink when the low pitch of a ship’s horn blared miles away. She only felt her heart beating, too fast to fall asleep.
Her thoughts raced in her head like Tori around the bus bench. She couldn’t stop thinking about how everything Tori did, who Tori was, led back to her. It was her own fault. Tori suffered because of her. The people around Tori, annoyed with Tori’s behaviour, suffered because of her. She could have prevented this somehow. Her and only her. How could she really love Tori with all her heart if she blamed herself every time she looked into her daughter’s eyes? She cried herself to sleep, silently, alone.
Sharon woke up on time feeling better as she buried her thoughts of the night before down where no one could see. Her left eye twitched a bit. A painless annoyance she told herself. Her and Tori made it to the bus stop for the 7:47 bus. No one was there today. The bus was slightly late, and before the doors closed behind Sharon, she could hear the short man’s voice yelling “Wait!” He ran up the stairs thanking the nice driver and wishing him a good morning. He passed by Sharon and Tori without saying a word and sat in the last row behind the older blonde woman sleeping with her head against the glass. The driver slowly pulled away and Sharon held Tori close, not allowing any room for her to squirm out. No more incidences like the one the day before.
At the next stop, the young man entered wearing a gray-striped blue tie with a black jacket and black pants. The last stop was full of people again, but luckily the man Tori had bumped was not there. The old woman entered first again, wearing a fashionable leather jacket that must have been her grandson’s. Sharon’s left eye twitched again, but she didn’t realize. The last to enter was the young girl of Tori’s age. She smiled to the driver and took her seat in the middle of the bus, next to the young man with the tie perfectly knotted, cutting the circulation off to his brain. Tori struggled as the bus moved, but Sharon kept her grip tight.
Over the next week, Sharon kept to her schedule in a military like manner. She woke up at the same time, and always made it to the 7:47 bus in the morning. She noticed the same people every day, and felt comfortable with the routine. Even her eye twitching stayed consistent. She kept Tori close, so no episodes occurred. And most importantly, she didn’t allow herself to cry or to question Tori’s life.
Just as people eventually begin speeding again after a few weeks of well behaviour following a ticket from the police, Sharon was back a few weeks later pushing snooze on her alarm clock and not holding Tori down from disturbing the strangers around her. At night in bed, her eyes stayed open for hours. Her negative thoughts returned.
One morning, in an act of rebellion, she turned her alarm clock off and slept late into the morning. When the sunshine at 9:30 finally heated her room up and her blanket became uncomfortable, she dragged herself out of bed and over to Tori’s room. Tori was still asleep enjoying every moment of her mother’s rebellion. Sharon knelt down and kissed her on the cheek. She stirred and turned over without opening her eyes. Sharon didn’t want to wake her. When Tori woke, Sharon would see her faults. Sharon would see what she herself did.
They finally made it to the bus stop at 10:00, and Sharon was surprised to see the short man with the MP3 player sitting on the bench. He didn’t even look up when they sat down beside him. Whatever mysterious music he was listening to obviously kept his attention. The bus arrived and they boarded in customary fashion, short men first, women and children second. Sharon was again surprised when she spotted the old sleeping woman in the back. She jokingly thought that maybe the woman was dead and nobody bothered to check if she slept through her stop. She shook her head and told herself not to think things like that.
The next stop, many people were waiting, including the young man. He was in jeans and a polo shirt though, so Sharon almost didn’t recognize him. He walked by her and didn’t seem surprised to see her on the bus this late. Sharon shook her head again and convinced herself that it was just a funny coincidence to see the usual characters again in the morning. However, at the final stop, Sharon stared as the old lady in a sweatshirt boarded the bus along with the young girl a few steps behind. Neither of them acted as if anything was out of the ordinary either. Sharon thought she was going crazy to see the same people over and over on the bus every day. It seemed normal before, but not on a bus this late. She had enough to worry about, so she decided to forget about it.
That night as she lay awake in bed, her thoughts had changed to the coincidences she experienced in the morning. She remembered now that she had seen these same people on the bus day after day, no matter what bus time she took in the morning. Not everyone was the same, but a few people seemed to be on every bus she was on, and like her, didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. Did these coincidences have to do specifically with these people? Were they working together, playing some game to drive her crazy? She decided to take control.
On Monday, she took the bus at 7:34. Same people. Tuesday, 8:01. Same people. Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, 7:47. Same people.
Over the weekend, she couldn’t stop analyzing the events. Was she the reason this was happening? Or was she only playing a part, believing that she chose her bus time, when it was out of her control? No, she controlled her life as we all do. She fell asleep quickly after making that sound conclusion.
By Sunday night, her convictions were in question again. She set her alarm for 5:00 on Monday morning and put Tori to sleep early. When the beeping sounded at 5:00, she remained still, not having slept the entire night. The darkness of outside crept into her mind. Wanting to understand, wanting to realize how silly this entire thing was, she quickly woke Tori to get ready. By 5:30, they were at the bus stop. A lonely light shining on a silver bench. The bench felt too cold to sit, so they stood under the artificial sun warming their bodies and trying to adjust their eyes to see the objects outside their circle of light.
They both heard a sound to their right. As the footsteps neared, Sharon stared intently at the spot the sound emanated from. The short man quickly entered the lighted area and sat down, flinching until he warmed the bench enough to relax. Sharon didn’t know what to do, what to say. The bus arrived shortly after, lighting only a portion of the street with the right headlight out. Sharon looked immediately to the back and saw the old blonde woman sleeping. This time, she left Tori in the front and walked directly to the back of the bus and shook the lady awake. The old woman asked Sharon if she had arrived at her stop. Sharon didn’t respond. The old woman looked around and then fell back to sleep.
The bearded driver sped towards the next stop running a red light on purpose. A minute later, he slammed the brakes when he noticed the young man enter the lit area of the bus stop. Sharon knew it was him before she even looked up to confirm. She instinctively held Tori tighter as if to protect her from something. Sharon’s heart was beating fast again. She knew that something was happening, but did not understand what or why. She squeezed Tori even more.
The driver closed the door on the heels of the young man and gunned the bus into the darkness. Sharon was shaking. Her uneasiness transferred to her daughter and Tori began to fight her mother’s grip. Sharon fought back, but her shaking was making her hands sweaty and she was losing control. Tori shot up like a rubber band and began screaming out. First from terror, then to song. The angry driver, noticing no one in the light of the final stop, kept his foot on the petal with no intention of stopping. He immediately turned back to yell at Sharon to keep her stupid daughter under control. Instantly, as if the word stupid was a password to unlock a hidden reaction, Tori spun towards the driver and screamed in his face, “La, Laaa, La, Laaa!” At that instant, Sharon could see a blurry image from the corner of her twitching eye. The young girl helping the older woman with the heavy coat cross the road, right in the path of the on-coming bus. Tori didn’t notice the women in the street, but screamed louder at the driver. At that sound, the driver lost control of the bus momentarily swerving to the opposite side of the road, just missing the young girl and the old woman.
The bus came to a rough stop as it hit the curb on the opposite side of the road. The young girl and old woman in the street were frozen like statues. The driver had his eyes closed, knowing he would have hit them on any other day. Sharon slowly took her eyes off of them and broke out of her state of shock. She jumped up to restrain her 19 year old daughter, hugging Tori with every bit of strength left in her heart. As Sharon cried, her tears fell to the floor of the bus. As she watched the drops fall, her mind cleared, and she smiled thinking only of her love for Tori.