“ANGELS DON’T
RIDE BUSES”
INTRODUCTION
“My name is Chris. I’m glad school’s out and summer is finally here. I won’t have to put
up with my dumb teachers and all their dumb rules. Yes! I’m going to hang out
with my friends and sleep late. I’ll have the best summer vacation. Yeah,
right! You see I’m not normal. What I mean is I’m normal, but I don’t have a
normal life.”
“I’m fourteen years old. Well–almost. I will
be next fall. You see It’s like this. I’m divorced.
Well, what I mean is my parents are divorced and it ain’t cool. Like I’m
zapped, you know? I had all these plans for the summer. You know, hangin’ out
with the guys and stuff. My dad, who doesn't want to live with me anymore,
wants me to spend my whole summer vacation with him! Man, I mean this really sucks.
“What if one of your parents had the nerve to remarry and move three states away?
Maybe your summer vacations wouldn’t be so much fun either. It doesn’t matter
that I’m leaving my friends or that I might have a job for the summer. Do you
know why it doesn’t matter? Because they whine, “You’ve been with your friends
all year and I haven’t seen you!” Whose
fault’s that, anyway?
They don’t want me to even look for a job.
They’ll give me lots of spending money, they say. Yeah, right. It’s the same money I would have
to earn if my parents weren’t
divorced. Man, there’s something wrong with this scene. Its
like I haven’t lived long enough to know these things. This is why I have to go
to school, so I can be as smart as they are. Well, they’re not so smart. I
think they’re pretty stupid.”
“I tried asking for a shorter visit and
you can guess what my dad said. His voice can send chills down your spine, you
know? Did I mention that he’s the one that moved away? What if I reminded him
of that one, huh? We won’t even talk about it.
“If you’re a divorced kid, you know about
those dumb “telephone meetings,” don’t you? Did you ever watch your parent on
the phone? Sneak a peek some time. If it happens to be your mom, which in my case it is, she’ll have the biggest smile you’ve
ever seen on a face. She’s so proud that you have stood up for yourself. That
you told your dad you don’t want to go away for the whole summer. She’s so
proud that you finally expressed your self. What if I said I didn’t want to
live with her and move in with my dad? Man, that would be the end of expressing
myself.”
“Mathematically speaking, two times zero
equals one big fat zero. I have to leave one parent to visit another. This is a
situation that I did not create but must live with. They really “love you and
miss you” they tell you. However, what they don’t tell you is that they need you. They need you to get rid of their
guilt and to make them happy. Lots of luck, man! Don’t worry, ‘cause you’re on vacation!”
Friends
Chris and Doug were throwing their tennis
balls up against the back wall of the school building. They always waited until
after
“Do you have to go?” Doug’s eyebrows came together, stopping to catch the
ball. He looked at his friend. “Jeez, we’ve only been out of school for two
weeks!” he whined, shaking his head. He threw his ball even harder, causing him
to run backwards to catch it.
“Do you think I want to go?” Chris yelled,
slamming the ball. “My dad’s been
pestering me for a month now.” Chris knew that Doug would start pouting as soon
as he told him. “You know I’ll send postcards. I might bring you a souvenir,
too."
“When are you leaving?”
“Saturday, but don’t and I mean don’t tell the rest of the guys that.
Tell ‘em I’m leaving Sunday, okay? My mom will be there fussing over me. You
know, crying and stuff.”
“Yeah, but then they’ll blame me when they
find out!” Doug complained.
“Nah, just say my Dad wanted me to come a
day earlier. You know, like a change in plans. I don’t want ‘em sitting at the
pizza house across the street, gawking and laughing at me, okay? Please?”
Doug thought about this for a while,
bouncing his ball. “Okay, I promise. I sure wish I was going with ya.” He
looked at his friend and quickly said, “Hey, do you think¾”
“Well you can’t and don’t ask me again!
I’ve asked him a hundred times already!” Chris had asked his father if Doug could come to
Doug felt bad for his friend. “I know,
Chris. I guess I’m rockin’ your boat, huh?” Stooping down, he pretended to
tighten his shoelaces. Without looking up, “I’m going to miss you that’s all.” His voice began to shake and his eyes filled
up. He kept his head down, not wanting Chris to see his face.
Chris knew Doug was upset. He always got
that way when he was leaving for the summer. He pretended not to notice and
said, “Yeah, me too. Hey, aren’t you bored? Let’s go over to Seth’s. It’s
Thursday and Mom said I can sleep over there tonight with you guys. Tomorrow I
have to pack and spend the rest of the day with her. I can’t wait for that. All
she’ll do is cry! Are all girls like her? If they are, I ain’t ever getting
married."
Doug just shrugged, never answering his
friend. Chris always sounded off to him. They had been friends since the first
grade. They lived on the same street and were always together. From the time they first met, their parents
took him and Chris everywhere. When
Chris’ parents first got divorced, Chris spent more time at his house than his
own. Doug knew why, but never said anything to him. Doug’s mom explained to him
that he needed family and support. They were always there for each other, no
matter what. “That’s what good friends are all about,” she would remind him.
They walked down the back alley and when
they got to old Miss Tanner’s house, they just gave each other their usual look
and grinned. It had become a ritual, almost everyday. First Chris, being the
taller of the two, peeked over the fence. “Her car’s not there. Let’s go!”
They scrambled over the back fence,
crouching along the side of the house. They stopped and waited. “Is anyone
coming?” Doug asked. He was out of breath and his whisper was too loud.
“Nah, we’re good. Let’s go!” Chris ran out
towards the front of the house, across the lawn onto the sidewalk. Doug was right behind him. They ran along the
walk until they were far enough away.
Still out of breath, Doug kept looking
behind him and Chris was laughing at him.
“Man, you worry too much. Stop looking guilty!” Chris would never admit
to his friend that he worried too about old Miss Tanner catching them. He acted
cool and started to whistle.
“One day she’s going to catch us! I think I
stepped on her flowers, Chris!”
“Jeez, Doug. Not
again! Her flowers have been there for years. When are you going to learn to
jump over ‘em?”
“I forgot, okay? We better quit this stuff.
We will get caught, you know.”
“Not me! I ain’t ever going to get caught.
Heck, it beats going around the long way. If you’d remember to stay away from
her flowers, we could keep this up for years!”
Doug was still protesting as they rounded
the corner to Seth’s house.
The Tree House
Seth’s tree house was the best. It was big
and it was their official clubhouse. They always stayed there when they wanted
to spend the night. Seth’s dad had built it for him before his divorce. Seth
was proud of it and they all kept their sleeping bags there. There was an ice
chest for soda, sandwiches and stuff. There was a rug for the floor, a radio
and even a mini-television that ran off of batteries. It was the best tree
house in the whole town. You were the coolest, if you were invited to become a
member.
They turned the radio up and gulped their
cans of soda. They were going to party all night. It was their private place
and one ever bothered them.
“Hey, Guys! Can I come up? I brought us a
real picnic this time. Please?”
It was Jason’s high-pitched voice,
pleading with them. “Yeah, okay,” they yelled down, snickering among
themselves. They could always count on Jason for lots of food. It was the only
reason they let him in their club.
“Man, this house is really shaking,” said
Seth. “He’s going to break the ladder, I just know it!”
“Quit it, Seth! He’ll hear you!” whispered
Doug.
“I heard you already,” yelled Jason, as
his round, chubby face appeared in the crawl space that was their door. “But
you can count on me for the good stuff I always bring ya,” he said, now out of
breath. He was trying to wiggle his body up and into the tree house. They
started laughing again.
“Hey, I can’t help if this door’s for
midgets!” he exclaimed as he shoved the large brown bag towards Seth. “Like I
said, I bring the food.” He stared at Seth and waited for him to say
something.
Seth shrugged and said, “Yeah, Jason. We
can always count on you for the food.
Whatcha bring good?” Doug asked him,
knowing that Jason’s feelings were hurt. Seth always said dumb things to him.
“Lots of sandwiches and birthday cake left
over from my sister’s party yesterday.” Jason gave a big grin. He knew he’d
always have an ‘in’ with the guys as long as he provided their snacks. What's
happening?” he asked, as he started cramming a sandwich in his mouth.
“Nothin’ much,” answered Doug. “Except that
Chris here is leaving Sat¾” Chris choked on his soda and
glared at Doug “Um, I mean Sunday for
“Woah! You’re
going again? You’re lucky, Chris,” said Seth. “I wish my mom would invite me to
visit her this summer. My mom only remembers me twice a year. You know, like
Christmas and my birthday. She can’t forget Christmas. And I know it’s my step
dad that reminds her about my birthday.” Seth tried to laugh off his words but
it didn’t work. All of them knew Seth’s mom. She hardly knew he existed.
Chris said quickly, “Your step dad must
really be cool, right? He’s probably like Anne, my dad’s new wife.”
Before Chris knew it, they were all
laughing and he didn’t know why.
“I hope Anne and my step dad don’t look
alike!” He laughed and the guys joined in.
Chris felt stupid now. “You know what I
mean. I didn’t like Anne at first but now I do.”
“How’s that?” asked Jason, shoving the
other half of his sandwich into his mouth, still laughing.
“You know, like she never asks me to do
chores or anything. Not like my mom.
We play yahtzee together, go to the movies. All that stuff. The way my mom used
to.”
“That’s boring. It’s like being with your
mother!” said Seth.
“Nah, not really. I
figured it out. She’s never had any kids of her own, so she doesn’t know how to
act like a grouchy mom.” It was Chris
that began the laughter this time. He laughed even harder so that the others
would follow him.
Jason laughed loud and then began choking on
his food.
“How many times have we told you Jason! Don’t laugh when your mouth is full!” Seth said, as
he elbowed Chris.
"Yeah, but it's always full!"
Chris had made the remark and his friends roared with laughter. They all
clapped their hands and Chris loved being the star.
“Come on, guys. Quit it!” said Doug.
"Jeez, We’re
just jokin’ with him. Right, Jason?” Chris was always fascinated with Jason. He
wondered how much could one person eat?
Seth shook his head. He looked at Chris.
“Tell us more about Anne.”
“Well, for one thing, she really is cool.”
Chris knew he gotten all of their
attention now. "She never tells me what to wear or how to where my hat!
She treats me more like her friend. You know what I’m saying?”
They were nodding but Chris knew they
didn’t understand. “Look, it’s like this. She doesn’t check on me every five
minutes. She doesn’t leave me a key, frozen dinners or notes all over the
fridge. She’s like, you know, okay.”
“Is she pretty?” Seth’s eyes narrowed.
“Yeah, kind of, “ Chris
answered. “But I can’t ever mention her name to my mom. Man, does she get
jealous! I guess it’s because Anne has sort of adopted me, you know? That’s not
such a bad thing, I guess.” Chris’ face grew serious.
“So your telling
us your step mom is okay,” said Seth. “She doesn’t give you chores, she plays
yahtzee with you, she takes you places and she’s pretty, right? My step dad is
kind okay too, but he's sure not pretty!"
The tree house rocked with their laughter.
" Like I said before, you’re lucky! My parents
divorced and I hardly ever see my mom. Your dad calls you and sends the UPS
truck to your house almost every week! Man, the driver even waves to us.
Doesn’t he, guys? Did you know that, Chris? Hey, he’s almost a relative!” They
all roared again.
Man, I wish I was in your shoes,” said
Seth. This time he was serious.
“You think I’m that lucky, huh? My dad
sends me all that stuff out of guilt. He gets my mom jealous every time. She
says it makes her look cheap. I really should explain things to her. You know,
about his dumb games. Maybe then she would and stop acting so stupid about
everything.”
“Why don’t you?” Jason innocently asked.
“Because, Jason. Parents don’t listen to
kids!” Chris just shook his head at him. He reached over to grab a sandwich. “Does your dad and mom ever fight?”
Jason held another half of sandwich. It
was on its way to being plopped into his mouth, but stopped in mid-air. Chris’
question had taken him by surprise. “My parents? Um, I
don’t think so. I mean I never thought about it. Probably not, I guess. Mom’s
too busy cooking to fight and my dad’s too busy eating!”
The other three roared, rolling on the
floor. He didn’t think his remark was all that
funny. They kept it up until Jason himself was holding his side. Jason enjoyed
the attention he was finally getting. Now he was the star, if only for a short
time.
After awhile they were quiet and sat
listening to rap music, eating potato chips. Chris knew it was going to be a
long summer without his friends. He never really appreciated them until the
divorce. The whole time they were growing up, he just took them for granted.
They were at his house most of time, because even before the divorce he had
just about every toy a kid could possibly want.
His friends came around like flies. They
admired Chris and looked up to him. When every they
needed to borrow something, Chris had it. Their parents always remarked that
Chris had his own “toy store.”
He was one of the most popular kids in the
school and he knew it. He was tall for his age and good-looking. He was glad he
didn't have zits and that he had some suntan already. He knew he looked good
and sometimes he acted a little too conceited about it all. The girls were
starting to hang around more, but he didn’t care for that too much. He still would rather be with the guys. At
least, he didn’t have to put on a front for them. Well, almost.
They joked back and forth for a long
while. Finally Chris said to Seth, “It’s great listening to music without them around, ain’t it? Mom hates it and my Dad
blames her for me
liking it. I really want to tell my dad it's all his
fault! If he hadn't left, I wouldn't be having all this trouble. I heard Mr.
Johnson tell my mom that at the last PTA meeting." Chris waited for his
friends agree with him.
Doug finally said, “Chris, my mom and dad
won't let me play rap either. They don't like it. I only play it when they’re
not around.” Doug hoped Chris wouldn’t be mad at him for saying it.
Chris said quickly, "So? What’s your
point? Do they blame one another if your
grades go up or down? Do they pick on
you? I’ve been around your mom and dad forever, Doug. You and Jason have normal families. Seth and I don’t!”
Seth figured Chris never even thought
about his situation and it took him
by surprise. “Um, yeah, Chris is right. You guys have normal families. We are
the victims here. Sometimes, my dad just stares off into space. Last week, I
asked him if he had made dinner yet. Do you know what he said?” You could hear
a pin drop. “Nothing! Man, I mean nothing. He looked
at me like I was speaking a foreign language or something.
Doug wanted to change the subject, but
Chris wouldn’t let him.
Chris looked at Seth. “My mom is just the
opposite of your dad. When she’s working the late shift at the hospital, she
calls every half- hour! She nags me about cleaning up my room and staying out
late on school nights. She nags me about my homework and to eat something! When
she’s home at night to make dinner, she cooks and nags me to eat it. Jeez, she
never gets off my back!”
Seth took a deep breath, “I guess your mom
is too much that way and my dad’s not enough, huh? My grandmother always says
someone’s watching over me. At least I have her. She makes me deserts and comes
here a lot. I figure she's checking up on my dad too."
They all agreed, saying that she made the
best cookies for them. They like Seth’s grandmother a lot.
It was at that moment that Chris finally
realized that he and Seth had more things in common than he had ever
dreamed. "I wish I had a
grandmother to talk to. A grandfather would be even better!"
They all agreed with him. Chris knew that
every one of the guys were his true
friends. “Listen up, you guys. I’d like to make a toast. It’s going to be a
long summer and I wish I could stay.”
There was complete silence now, as they
held their cans of soda up. They’d never seen Chris look so serious before.
“I’m glad we’re all here tonight.” He
looked over to Jason, “You too, Jason. Honest. I didn't mean to make you feel
bad. Besides, without you, we’d all starve!” He slapped him on the shoulder and
Jason's face was one huge grin. All hands reached to the center, locking arms,
pledging their loyalty. They started singing along with the music, with Chris
leading the way.
After they grew tired of the music, Chris
brought out the last of his firecrackers he'd brought from
Seth's dad came out to the tree house.
"Okay, you guys. That's enough now. The neighborhood will be calling the
cops on you." He looked stern and they knew they had better listen.
"Yes
sir," they all replied together.
They did find some other things to do that
night. They went over next door to Mr. Jones' yard. He had the best vegetable
garden in the neighborhood. While Jason held the flashlight, they
"borrowed" some sweet tomatoes, under protests from Doug. They made
tons of sandwiches, only this time it was Seth who supplied two loaves of bread
and a jar of mayonnaise. They partied late that night, sleeping until almost
The Bus Stop
Chris wanted a window seat and the bus was leaving in fifteen minutes. He
needed to get on the
bus but his mom insisted that he stay with her longer.
“Please, Chris,” she begged. “I won’t see
you for the rest of the summer!”
He couldn’t handle it if she started
crying again. He didn’t try to explain this to his mom because she wouldn’t
understand. Did she ever? It’s not that he didn’t want to stay with her. It
just made it that much harder for him. Whenever he visited his dad, this same
scene would take place. Besides, his friends would laugh at him if they saw her
there! It would be like the first day of school. You know, your mom waiting
with you at the bus stop. Sure, right!
She awkwardly patted him on his shoulder saying “Don’t forget
to take your vitamins, brush your teeth, and change your underwear every day,”
she whispered to him.
“Mom!” Chris
exclaimed, looking around to see if anyone was listening. He did feel kind of
sorry for his mom. She just didn’t understand how the guys teased him.
“Mom, I really have to get on the bus. I
want that seat in the back!” He gave her one last tight squeeze and quickly
turned away. Jeez, he thought. I hope no body sees me. He had told
everyone he was leaving tomorrow, just so they wouldn’t come to gawk. He just
knew those jerks were watching him from Tony’s Pizza House. Did Doug tell them, after all? Nah, he’d
promised him he wouldn’t.
“Don’t forget to call me tonight!” She
yelled to him.
He waved to her over his
shoulder, nodding and promising her he would call.
It would be a six-hour ride to
Looking straight ahead, he stumbled past
the sea of faces to the rear of the bus. He was relieved to find the seat still
empty next to the window. He felt everyone was staring at him and was watching
him. He didn’t look around him as he placed his backpack in front of him on the
floor. He knew too, that when he looked out the window, his mom would be waving
to him. Man!
Chris was wondering when the bus was ever
going to move. Finally the bus started up and pulled out of the depot. He let
out his breath slowly, then taking a deep breath; he turned to wave to her one
last time. She yelled to him “I love you!” He smiled as he waved back. He knew
she would like that, because that was the way she would want it.
When the bus turned the corner and he had lost sight of her, his eyes
filled up. He tried to swallow but there was that familiar achy lump in his
throat. It happened every time he was leaving and he hated himself. Girls were
supposed to act this way, not him.
Like all the other times, Chris began to
feel miserable. He wondered if it was always going to be this way. If it
weren’t for the divorce, he would never have to take these bus trips.
Chris clenched his fists, thinking, "I could handle all of it if she would just
stop making a big deal out of everything and if he would remember that I have a
life too! Does any body care? Chris
rooted through his backpack looking for his radio. It was going to be another
long and boring ride.
The Bus Ride
Chris put his walk man on and tried to
concentrate on his music. He was grateful that no one could hear it. In a
couple of years he figured he wouldn’t have to explain his music to anyone and
that would be all right with him.
He wanted to go to sleep but he couldn’t
because the lady in front of him kept putting the back of her seat up and down.
He was constantly shifting his backpack or moving his legs. Adults! Did the
world really need them? One day, he would be an adult himself. He knew that. He
just didn’t want to act like one.
Seeing Anne would be cool. Whenever he
wasn’t with Mike, the only friend he had made in
He fought hard to go to sleep but
couldn’t. As usual the night before these trips, he didn't get much sleep. He
hated the bus rides for more reasons than one. The most important one was that
all it ever did was make him think too much.
His father had been trying to persuade him
to come and live with him. “Your grades haven’t been all that great, Chris.
Maybe it’s because of the divorce or maybe it’s because of your mom’s late
hours at the hospital, I don’t know.” Naturally, it was her fault!
“If you lived with Anne and me for a
while, you could try a new school. You would make new friends and things might
be better.”
Sometimes Chris liked this idea. He could
get away with a lot more there, away from his mom. His teacher, Mr. Johnson,
told his mom that she should consider his moving with his dad. Chris knew of
course, that this decision would not be the right one. Not for him or for his
mother. His mom would cry all the time and then he would feel guilty for
leaving her, like today.
Whenever he told Doug this, he'd say,
"That's the only time I wouldn't want to be in your shoes man!” Chris
didn’t want to be in his shoes either, especially now.
******
Chris looked out the window and watched
the rolling green hills pass behind him. "I
bet they’re neat when there’s snow on ‘em. It’s so hot! I wish I could go
sledding!
Two more grownups sat across the isle from
him. Chris guessed they were husband and wife because they were arguing with
one another. She wondered if they should have sat in the front. She was wearing
an ugly, putrid green plaid dress and her hair was sort of orange. She was
holding a handkerchief up to her nose telling her husband that she was getting
sick from the fumes of the bus. He was
telling her it was her imagination and to stop making a scene. Chris figured
she had made a scene as soon as she put on that dress and hair! He just
couldn't understand why adults picked on kids about the clothes they wore. He
was never going to dress or act like any of them. It
made sense to him!
For a while, the ride was okay. His walk
man was on and he was listening to his favorite rap. He felt so free. No one
was nagging him or telling him what he should or should not be doing. He felt
like an adult, but thought that he could still wait a while longer to be one.
He looked at the couple again. The woman still had her handkerchief
attached to her face. Her husband’s voice was becoming louder. Chris shook his
head, laid his head back and closed his eyes. I’m never getting married as long as I live. If I don’t get married, I
won’t ever need a divorce. I’m going to travel for the rest of my life. It won’t be by bus either!
Before he dozed off, he was thinking
that maybe he should run away to some island. He would be the mayor and make
all the rules. His friends would run the police department and the town. Oh,
and the school? He’d make Doug the principal, because he got the best grades.
The grown-ups could only live on one side of the island. Parents could only
visit their kids once a year…by bus…especially his.
He slept until the bus pulled into the
rest stop. The driver announced that
they would have only twenty-five minutes. Chris needed to go to the bathroom
and get something to eat. He was glad to get out of his seat and stretch his
legs.
Chris flushed the urinal before using it.
He always felt better doing that. When he finished he walked over to the sink.
While combing his thick brown hair, he watched the man next to him. He had
hardly any hair, but he was trying to comb it. Chris almost laughed out loud. Why
did he bother?
The man looked at Chris’ head. “I used to
have hair like that son. Better hang on to it!” After the man left, Chris stood
staring at his head. Would he ever lose his hair like that?
How could there be so many people in one
line, Chris wondered. Everyone was going somewhere. But they probably wanted to
go, Chris thought. He bought a sport’s magazine, two sodas, three chocolate
bars, peanut butter crackers and some gummy bears.
He thought of his mom and looked at his
watch. Stuffing his things into his backpack, he knew he didn’t have much time.
He had eight minutes and went to the pay phone and called her.
“Mom, I don’t have much time. I’m half way
to
She said something about being
careful and she loved him.
“I love you too. See ya. Bye.”
His call had made her happy and Chris felt
better. He hurried to get back on the
bus. But his good mood didn’t last long. He was surprised to see an old man
sitting on the aisle seat next to his. Chris mumbled now, under his breath.
"Shoot! Another one and an old one at that! Just add it to the list!"
“The Old Man”
Chris wondered if the old man was going to
be another grouch as he made his way towards the back of the bus. When Chris
was about three rows from the back, he noticed that the old man looked sort of
friendly. He had a cane and Chris saw that it was poking out into the aisle. How am I going to get by him? I will have to
step over it. What should I do? What
should I say? He began to panic as he made his way to his seat.
“Excuse me, sir, b-but that's my seat near
the window,” said Chris. He was a little nervous.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I’d better give you some room to get by then,
shouldn’t I?” the old man said softly. The man’s hands were resting on his
cane. It made Chris think of the shepherds. You know. The
kind on a Christmas card or something.
He had very white hair and a beard to match. Chris thanked him as he
crossed over in front of him to his seat.
“I gather you’ve been on the bus for quite
a while now, haven’t you son?" he asked Chris.
“Um, kinda."
Chris replied, thinking to himself that the man called him son. Jeez. Now he’d
have to act perfect.
“What’s your name?” the man asked him.
“Charlie. Charlie Brown.” When Chris
realized how stupid the name sounded, he immediately added, “I mean Charles
Brown, Jr.¾sir." He tried to cover up his lie. "It’s because
my Dad’s name is Charlie too. Um, I mean Charles Brown, Sr.”
“Well, Charlie Brown, Jr. I’m glad to meet
you.”
It was a habit for Chris to give out false
names. He figured if he ever had to run away, he wouldn’t be found so
easily. Almost immediately, he regretted
lying to the old man and he didn’t know why.
“Where are you going, Charlie?” There was
amusement in his voice.
“I’m going to visit my dad in
The
man nodded. “Ah, Yes. I heard it was beautiful there.”
Chris turned and looked at him, thinking
he would probably talk the whole way. He already asked too many questions. He
had too many clothes on for summertime. A
shepherd’s robe would have suited him better. At least he would look cooler! He had on a heavy black suit and tie.
Chris guessed he dressed that way because that's what old people did. He had
heard they were always cold.
Remembering his question about
“Kings Dominion?
I never heard of that town. Well, isn’t that strange. I thought I knew all of
the smaller towns,” he said, shaking his head in puzzlement.
“Oh, it’s not a town, well not a real one.
I mean it’s a real town, but it’s kind of like make believe. Do you know what
I’m saying?”
Chris almost laughed, watching the man’s
face. He had this real dumb look on it, like the kind his mother got when he
would mention a rock group that she had never heard of.
“You seem to be amused young man. Did I
say something funny?”
Chris replied, “Oh, no! You just had this
du—I mean—well¾.” Chris
stopped short. He hoped the man didn’t catch on to what he was about to say. He
knew his face was red, because he could feel the heat rising up to his cheeks.
He took a deep breath and started over.
“Kings Dominion is like a smaller Disney
World, only it’s way smaller. You know, it has rides
and everything.” When the man appeared to be interested, Chris continued with,
“They have awesome roller coasters!”
“You like roller coasters? I guess most
kids your age like them, don’t they? I must say, I never had the chance to take
a ride on one. They look pretty scary to me!”
Chris shrugged. “They don’t scare me! I close my eyes and
throw up my hands when I get to the biggest hill. The scarier it is, the better
I like it. It’s a real trip, man!”
Chris was almost convinced that maybe the
old man was really listening. He discovered he had the bluest eyes that he had
ever seen. They were weird somehow. It was like you could see through
them. Well, almost.
“Do you always wear your hat that
way? Even when you go
down those big hills too?” His blue eyes looked like they were laughing
at him.
Chris nodded, grinning from ear to ear.
The old man thought for a moment. “I guess
it would make your ride more streamed-lined now, wouldn’t it? You know, maybe
like a tail section of an airplane to help it fly better. Well, then. That
would explain it, wouldn’t it? That would be a very good reason to wear it that
way."
Chris laughed thinking that maybe this was
one neat old man, even if his hair was pure white. He certainly had a lot of
it, even more than his dad.
“My parents hate the way I dress,” Chris
continued, “ Especially the way I wear my hat. All my
friends and my coach wear their hats this way.”
He became quiet and when the old man
didn’t say anything, he figured he didn’t want to talk anymore either. Chris
figured that’s how old people are. You know. They eat a little, talk a little
and take lots of naps.
He looked out of his window once more,
which seemed to be a very long time. It was so quiet that Chris guessed he was
sleeping and wanted to check him out. Sitting perfectly still and looking
straight ahead, he rolled his large brown eyes to the right to catch a glimpse
of the old man.
Chris would have laughed if he could have
seen himself. He looked like a puppet. His head was held rigid, with only his
big brown eyes moving from side to side.
Suddenly the man opened his eyes. Chris
almost jumped out of his skin, when the old man leaned towards him and
announced, “I’m not sleeping.”
The old man laughed softly. He realized he
had caught Chris completely off guard. He whispered, “I would love to wear my
Cubs hat that way! If I could, I would.” He gave Chris a quick wink.
Chris looked around to see if anyone was
sleeping. Why was he whispering? Chris
shrugged and said, “So why don’t ya?”
Chris whispered back to him. “You
can do anything you want, you know?”
“Why in heaven's name would you think
that?” The man’s blue eyes grew wide and
serious.
“Because.”
“Because?"
“Because you’re an adult, that’s why,”
Chris said with absolute confidence. “No one can tell you what to do!”
“I suppose younger people could think that
way.” He grew quiet and then, “It probably does appear that way most of the
time. Does it, to you?”
“Heck, man, yes!” Chris was a little
irritated and forgot whom he was speaking to.
The old man pretended not to notice. “We
really can’t do anything we want. Why, sometimes, even we adults are told what
to do. Oh, I know it must seem that way to you. But we adults are given rules
to follow too. Heaven knows, I have my share of them.”
He glanced upwards and sighed. Chris
followed his. Why was he staring up at the ceiling of the bus? Chris didn’t see
anything up there worth looking at.
Shrugging, Chris still thought he was a little weird.
“So you see, young man,” the old man
continued, “we adults have rules to follow too.” With that, he cleared his throat, folding his
arms across his chest. He shifted in his seat until he was comfortable. After a
couple of minutes, he reached into his pocket and pulled out some peanut butter
crackers. He handed them to Chris and said, “I’ll trade you these for one of
those chocolate candy bars you have down in there.”
“Cool,” Chris said, reaching down for a
candy bar. He stopped short. “Wait a minute.
How did you know I had candy?”
“Just a lucky guess.
All boys with dark brown hair and eyes eat a lot of chocolate, don’t they?” His
blue eyes were teasing Chris again, as they exchanged their snacks.
Chris laughed until the old man was laughing
too. They were having fun, just sharing each other’s food. He vowed he would
never make fun of Jason again.
Chris chomped on a cracker and then it
dawned on him what the old man had just said. His mom used to tell him that all
the time. She used to say his eyes and hair was so brown, because of all the
chocolate he ate. He had forgotten
about it until now. That was a very long time ago when he was just a kid! He
shook his head. Man, this scene was
really becoming weird!
In spite of himself, Chris was very
interested in this old man. Although he was very old, he liked him almost as
much as Anne. He seemed to be one cool dude!
They talked for a long while, mostly about
sports and school. Chris even shared his sports magazine because the man seemed
so interested, especially baseball. Chris didn’t mind at all. The man knew all
the sports stars! Why, he even knew about Bret Favre. He liked the Green Bay
Packers as much as Chris did! Wow! How did old people know these things?
To think that he knew Bret Favre! Chris
really liked him now. He treated Chris as if he was an adult. They actually had
a lot in common and talked about a lot of things.
Chris didn’t even mind when their
conversation shifted to his family life. Little by little, Chris began opening
up to him. He told him about his parent’s divorce and how upsetting the whole
thing had been for him. He had never been able to talk to any adult about this
before. Why, not even Mr. Johnson!
"Jeez, do you know that when the divorce
first happened, I hated to stay home? My mom cried a lot. It made me want to
cry, you know? 'Course, If I did, she probably
wouldn't have noticed anyway."
The man’s voice became almost a whisper
when he said, “Chris, you have had a bad time of it, haven't you?"
Chris was aware that he was beginning to
whisper again, but it didn’t matter to him now. It was like the old man
understood everything about him and everything he was feeling. He knew these
things were very private and important to him. Heck, there were times when he
even knew what he was thinking!
“Yeah, sort of.
My mom never wants me to go away to visit my dad and she doesn’t want me to
live with him, either. If I tell her that I might want to, she gets all upset.
And¾and then
there’s my dad. He is constantly reminding me that I would be better off living
with him. Then I get feeling all guilty, you know¾about my mom and all.”
"What does your dad say?" the old man asked him.
"Him? He gets all bent out of shape. It’s
a bummer!”
“All bent out of shape? Bummer?”
The old man had that funny look on his
face again. Only now, Chris didn’t laugh and he didn't think he was stupid. He
knew that he really didn’t understand some of the things he was saying. It was
probably because he was so old.
“Oh, it’s just an expression, like¾like being mad
or something. Oh and bummer is like when everything goes wrong¾like you know¾'what a
bummer'!” Chris still didn't know
whether he understood.
“Don’t you know all of the kids talk like
this? Doesn’t your grand kids?” Chris took it for granted that he had them and
that they were around his age.
“Probably, yes.
But it’s been too long ago for even me to remember,” and with that he let out
another deep sigh.
Chris was wondering how you forgot things
like that. How could he forget his grand kids? He knew old people suffered from
memory lapses. But up until now, he had thought that this old man was pretty
darn sharp.
"You've got a lot of hair on your head for an old–older
person," Chris said, now pointing to his head. "Heck, my dad doesn't
have half that much."
"Yes, I suppose I do. I seem to get more of it as time goes
by," the man said, his voice trailing off into the distance.
"Jeez, I remember my last visit with my dad. I was standing in back
of his chair, while he was reading his paper. I actually saw my reflection on
his head. Can you believe that?” Chris started laughing again, as he visualized
his dad's shiny balding head.
When he finally stopped laughing, he asked
"Have you ever heard of the game yahtzee?"
"I have …" The old man waited for
Chris to say something else.
"Well, Anne and me ¾and my dad¾ play this game a lot. That night when I laughed at his
shiny bald head? Well I called him a¾a clown."
Chris began laughing again. He suddenly became embarrassed. He didn't even know
why he was confessing all this.
He cleared his throat and continued.
"Well anyway, I laughed so hard that the tears were coming down my
face…and my dad became really mad. Do you know he wouldn't speak to me for a
whole day? Why, we didn't even play Yahtzee for two whole days!"
Suddenly remembering his own hair, he
pulled out his comb. “I'm going to be just like you. I'll never go bald! Even if I have to take a million
vitamins every day. Why, I would even kiss my mom twice a day! Man, I
hope I never look or act like my dad. I'm already almost as tall as him. But, that’s okay!" Chris popped another
cracker into his mouth, offering the man another candy bar.
The Dream
The two of them talked for a long time.
The man had a way of asking questions, without Chris being aware of them until
he answered.
An hour must have gone by and the old man
became very quiet. Chris figured he was tired and wondered again if he was
sleeping.
Chris pretended to clear his throat and
when the old man didn’t move, he leaned over to look at him. His head was back
against the headrest, his eyes were closed and his hands were folded in his
lap. His cane was resting against his seat. He noticed that the top of the
handle was metal and shaped like a candy cane. It didn’t have stripes or
anything, but it was bright gold in color. Lightly touching it, he wondered if
it was the real thing. It was so shiny and it had strange letters on it that
Chris didn’t understand. It must be really old, Chris thought. Maybe a billion!
Chris explored the cane, being very
careful not to move it. Further down the shaft of the cane, below the handle,
were engravings of little kid’s heads. They circled the cane in rings. Some
were girls and some were boys. What was really strange was that they all had
wings! They looked just like the decorations his mom put on top of the
fireplace at Christmas. He noticed their faces looked so real, like they were
almost alive. Wow! This is some walking
stick! Glancing up at the old man,
he knew he was in a very deep sleep. He never even snored.
Chris felt a strangeness sweep over him,
which he couldn’t explain. He just felt different some how. He looked at the
figures once more and on closer examination, he noticed that on the last ring
there was one engraving of a boy that didn’t have wings. It seemed to be the
last one that was placed there, for there were no more after that. Who were all
these kids, anyway?
Being very careful, he took his hand away
and looked up once more at the old man. Chris wished he wasn’t sleeping. He
really liked talking to him.
Shrugging his shoulders, Chris put on his
walk man again. He closed his eyes. It had been a long day and he was
tired. His body began to feel so light.
A feeling of weightlessness, like a floating sensation, crept over his body. He
really didn’t want to be thinking about it, but on and off between his music,
he would look at the man and wonder about the cane. He became very relaxed.
Tired of listening to his rap, he switched
the station to a softer rock. He was thinking how his parents would approve of
this and he fell into a very deep sleep.
Chris had had his share of dreams and
nightmares like most kids. Only the
dream he was about to have would be remembered for the rest of his life.
In the beginning of the dream, Chris
couldn't see a thing, because of the white, smoky mist. It surrounded him and
there was a voice that seemed to come from the center.
It began telling him that although there
had been a divorce, everything would be okay.
When he is with his father, his mother would miss him but she would be
okay. She would know that he was safe and happy.
The voice went on to say that
both of his parents loved him. All they really wanted was for him to be happy.
"Just as you are separated from your parents, so they are from you. When a
divorce happens, sometimes there are separations. Your dad moved away because of his job. He
doesn’t like being far away from you either.
It's hard on everyone."
He was told he should never feel guilty
about the divorce. More importantly, his parents would begin to think about
what was best for him. They would learn to respect and understand his feelings.
The voice had become a whisper, explaining the reasons why Chris felt
the way he did. "Don't punish them by doing things you know are
wrong."
“Remember always that they did not divorce
you.
Although things have changed in your life, you are not responsible for
the way things turned out. You may not understand the reasons for the divorce
now. There will be times you will be sad and that’s okay to feel that way. The
hurt you feel will begin to fade away.
“The most important thing is
this. You are still their son and they both love you very much. You will always
be a family. Don’t be too hard on them, Chris. And don’t be too hard on
yourself!”
The last words that Chris remembered in his dream was that it would not
be too long before his parents realized that he was old enough to decide with
whom he wished to be with. “They will realize in time that you love them both,
even though you may not always be with one of them. You cannot be in two places at one
time.”
At the very end of his dream, the mist
began to fade. The voice became a shadowy form, almost transparent. When the
mist faded completely, Chris realized it was an angel. His eyes were blue, almost transparent. He
wore a white flowing robe and had large white wings.
Giving him these final words, the angel
said, “I am your guardian and I will always stand by you.” The angel ’s blue eyes were very loving, as he laid his right
hand on Chris’ right shoulder. Chris could feel his strong, but calm touch in
his dream. It was so real. It made him feel so warm and protected. It was the
way he used to feel, before the divorce.
The angel removed his hand and backed away
slowly. Before long, he was far in the distance. Chris yelled for him to come back, but the
angel had disappeared completely.
Chris heard his own voice calling out,
“Come back! Please come back!”
Sitting up quickly, he rubbed his eyes. He
looked around and for a moment, he had forgotten where he was. He hoped no one
was staring at him, especially the man and woman across from him. He didn’t
want to look to find out.
He realized now that it was just a
dream. He threw his head back again on
the headrest, squeezing his eyes tight. When he finally opened them, he shook
his head. Wow! What a dream!
Remembering the old man next to him, Chris
was embarrassed to look at him. He knew he was watching him. He felt so stupid
and wondered if the old man had heard him yell out.
Chris cleared his throat and felt his
cheeks grow hot. “I must have been dr¾dreaming,” he stammered. Chris didn’t explain his dream and
the old man didn’t ask.
The old man patted him on the shoulder and nodded. “Some dreams are good. Everything will be
okay now. You shall see.”
During the time that was left, Chris and the
old man talked away. He felt happy and was looking forward to seeing his Dad
and Anne.
He was glad he made a new friend too, even
if he was old.
Outside of
The Last Stop
They both got off the bus together.
Chris announced to him as they were walking that he had to go to the bathroom
and get some more chocolate bars for the two of them. The old man stopped Chris, placing his right
hand on Chris’s shoulder. He had a very serious look on his face. It was almost
like it had happened before.
“Chris, this is where I have to leave you.
I’m meeting someone here in about a half an hour.”
Chris was taken back by his words. He did
not try to hide his disappointment. “You mean I won’t be seeing you anymore?
Well then, I’ll come and visit you.”
The old man kept shaking his head.
"No, Chris. That's impossible.“ The old man's
eyes looked sad.
"Then give me your phone number and address! I¾I will call you. I’ll even write you—sometimes.” He was
practically pleading with him, but he just kept shaking his head.
“I’m sorry, Chris. It’s just not possible
right now.” The old man patted his shoulder again. Then, he hesitantly took his
hand away. He quickly added, “But I will
be seeing you again, I promise you that.”
His blue eyes almost twinkled when he added, “I will get in touch with
you, fairly soon. I promise. A promise is a promise, right?"
Chris
shook his head, “But, I don’t understand. If I don't have your address or phone
number, how can I get in touch with you?" Chris knew he'd have to thinks
fast. "Hey, you don’t even have my phone number.” Here's
mine, okay? You can call me. And¾and here’s my
address at my dad’s.” He quickly dug
into his backpack for pencil and paper, scribbling out the address and phone
number as fast as he could. He handed it to the old man.
His heart was beating so fast he could
hardly breath. Suddenly he panicked and his face
became all flushed again. “I didn't even ask you your name. Tell me your name.
Please?"
The old man replied, “My name is John and I will get in
touch with you soon,” he reassured him.
Chris relaxed a little now. For some reason he believed him. Chris heard the announcement that they would
be boarding in ten minutes. “John, I’ve got to go to the bathroom. Please wait
'till I come back, so I can say good bye to you, okay? Please! I won’t be
long!"
Not waiting for John's answer, Chris
hurried away. Before he disappeared into the restroom, he turned to see John
waving to him. He smiled giving Chris and "okay" signal.
Chris waved back. He hurried as fast as he could but it didn’t
help. When he returned to the place
where they had been, John was gone.
Chris panicked as he quickly searched for him throughout the whole
station. He never saw him on his way back to the bus. He remembered his Coke
and candy. He rushed to the vending machines, got what he needed and ran
towards the bus. He glanced around once more
before he boarded, hoping to see John again.
Chris asked the driver if he had seen
which way the man with the white hair and beard had gone. The driver looked at
him like he was crazy, saying he remembered no one with that description.
The Girl
Chris began to feel like he had been
betrayed. I was wrong about him. He’s
like all the rest of them! They never keep their promises. He doesn’t care
about me! No one cares!
He headed to the rear of the bus. He noticed a girl sitting in John's
seat. As he drew closer he wondered just
how big a smile a girl could smear on her face.
“Hey, you don’t mind if I sit here, do
you? I’m tired of those jerks up front,”
she replied. She didn’t wait for Chris
to say anything and kept right on talking.
“I wanted to ask you earlier but I didn’t have the guts. To sit here, I
mean.”
She tilted her head back, pretending to
fix her hair. She was trying hard to really make a good impression on him. She
was flirting with him now, batting her eyelashes. “Hey, you’re cute. I guess
you already know that, huh?”
When Chris could finally get a word in, he
told her it was okay to sit with him. He
knew John wasn’t coming back. What a bummer!
She was kind of pretty with her long
blonde hair. She didn’t have too many freckles and her eyes were very green.
“My name is Patrice and don’t call me
Patricia or pat!”
She dressed really sharp, but she talked too much, like the rest of the
girls he knew. When she finally did stop talking, he asked her why she didn’t
like her other seat. He tried to forget
about John, but it was really hard.
“Why would you ask such a stupid
thing? Being around adults and old
people? They bore me to death! Don’t you feel the same way?”
Chris didn’t like what she just said. It
was almost as if she was referring to John. He felt he owed him at least some
loyalty
“I don’t know, I
kind of liked that old¾ I mean the
older man that I was sitting with. His name was John and he was really neat. I
liked him a lot, I really did.” Chris forgot he was mad at John. He missed him.
The girl gave him a very puzzled look, as
she announced, “What man? There wasn’t anyone sitting here. I’ve been trying to get up enough nerve to
come back and sit with you the whole trip!”
She saw Chris’ puzzled look. He looked surprised.
“Really, there hasn’t been anyone sitting
in this seat the whole time that I’ve been on this bus!”
Chris was confused. She had to be
mistaken. “Whoa! You’re definitely
wrong. He had white hair, lots of it and a white beard. He even carried a cane like the shepherds do
on Christmas cards! You saw him!”
Trying to convince her seemed hopeless.
However, the more he talked about it, the more upset he became. But not half as
much as her!
Her voice became loud and she answered
with, “I’m
going to say it one more time.
There was no one sitting with you!” She began to eye him suspiciously.
Chris was confused again and started
thinking that maybe it was all a dream.
But it wasn’t a dream! It couldn’t have been a dream! At least, not all
of it!
He tried to convince her again and she
stopped him.
“Are you one of those crazy people? I hope
not! You see weirdoes like you all the time on TV. You’re not, are you?” she asked with narrowed
eyes.
He figured that he should quit this
conversation now or she would get up and sit somewhere else. He ignored her
question.
“Your probably
right. It was a dream I had—the whole time. You know how real they can be
sometimes.”
He was hoping he could convince her
because she was looking at him like he was some weird creature from outer
space.
“In fact, I know now it was just a
dream,” as he watched her face slowly relax. Yes! I think I’ve finally
convinced her!
“Thank God! You really had me going there
for a while. Everything’s cool, right? Hey, are you getting off in
Chris heard her talking, and pretended to
be listening. The truth was he hadn’t heard a word. His mind was on John, his
dream and the strange things that had happened. She said she never saw him and I know he was right here! Chris
shook his head in disbelief, as the Patrice rattled on and on.
Chris tried to think now. Real hard! John had disappeared so fast after I came
out of the restroom. It was like he
vanished or something. And what about the dream he had? Whoa! Was it John in his dream?
He thought about John’s cane and all the
kids on it. They had wings, just like angels! Was John the kind of person that¾ the kind of angel that went around
helping people? Even kids like me?
Smacking his forehead, he thought, Dah! Could I have been the last figure that
was engraved on his cane? Was the boy without the wings me?
While
Chris was thinking about it all, Patrice had not stopped talking.
“Hey! I asked you a question! Where do you
live in
Chris looked at her but didn't answer. He
knew she was mad at him. She picked up a magazine and began reading.
Chris would never be the same again. I don’t believe in angels. It’s really stupid! I’m being stupid! But
things were beginning to add up and Chris couldn’t deny what he knew to be
real.
Jeez, I lied to him about my name and he
called me Chris at the bus depot! John knew all along! He's an angel! He’s my
guardian angel and a real live one!
Shaking his head still, he asked Patrice,
“Angels don’t ride buses, do they?”
The End…
Note
from the author: Dedicated to
my two sons, Erich and Chris. This story is for all the children who have gone
through a divorce. Although we are the
adults, we need to realize how very difficult it is for them. They are our
“True Angels.”
Copyright
1995
2nd
Revision March 2000
All
rights reserved ©
Word
Count: 10,578