THE BUS

I got on this bus when I was still in diapers. I didn't know anybody only the woman who carried me on. I grew into a boy on her lap looking at the other passengers and the scenery out the window. The bus made several short stops and I nearly fell off my seat. When I got a little bigger I got a seat of my own and held on as the bus careened around corners and several passengers fell to the floor. There was no clear destination but the bus made a number of stops and some people got on and
others got off.

When I got to be 25 I shared a seat with a lovely young lady who sat on my lap when the bus got crowded. And crowded it got. What started out to be a peaceful ride through the countryside turned into a donnybrook with passengers fighting over seats, pushing people into the isle and sometimes off the bus.

The scenery changed and the pastures turned to concrete, the trees to skyscrapers and the sun was hidding above the smog. By the time I reached middle age the space I was occupying was less than one seat and I was pushed and shoved on all sides by angry passengers who were jealous of their space. The woman who brought me on got off at a truck stop and I struggled to keep my composure in the crush of the crowd.

When I reached 60 the situation became unbearable. The bus lurched and took sharp turns at increasing speed moving so fast that what was outside the window of the bus became a blur and I got car sick. The isle was packed body to body with wild-eyed people who could not understand what was happening to them. The bus was barreling along and everyone knew this could not continue but no one bothered to look up front.

There was no one in the driver's seat.

Jay Frankston
Little River, CA 95456
wlp@mcn.org