Journeys

I suppose the whole of life is a journey, much of it smooth and uneventful ending in some kind of fulfilment, at other times like a roller coaster ride where the thrills are not in the least welcome. I can think of many excursions that I would like to repeat and just a few that keep me awake at night, trying to understand, to fathom what happened.

It began with a bus ride, something so simple and mundane. I joined the queue, hoping that its length signified the arrival of the next bus. I was not disappointed. Those in front of me slowly crept forward, paying their fares, showing their passes and making their way to empty seats. The last two people in front of me squeezed their way into the only available space.

'Sorry love. There's another right behind.'

'Story of my life,' a pleasant voice directed into my left ear.

I turned expecting to see another disappointed, expectant passenger. And that is what I saw, or thought I saw. I smiled and shrugged my shoulders. I don't like to enter into conversations with strangers, I have encountered enough 'odd bods' on my travels without encouraging yet another. But thankfully the comment seemed to be enough.

I just had time to turn round, and as the bus driver had promised 'the other one' arrived. I got on, paid my fare smiled my thanks, getting nothing in return and found a seat. 'Found' I say, I had the choice of the whole bus, there was no one else on it. I was concerned that my bus stop companion would come and join me but much to my relief didn't give me a second look and disappeared upstairs.

I had made this journey many times, it was long and boring and I usually managed to lose myself in some complicated crime novel. Views from the window were uninspiring and others on board held no interest for me. On this particular occasion my book had managed to keep me completely absorbed, I had no idea 'who dun it.' I was not disturbed by the usual stop and start and the increase in noise as more people joined us, astonished when I eventually looked up to find that I was still the only passenger.

The book called, who was the murderer? Managing just a couple more paragraphs an uneasy feeling overcame me. The view from the window was completely wrong, where were we? Had I got on the wrong bus? I pressed the bell signalling the driver that I wanted to get off, nothing happened. I tried to get up but it was as though I was glued to my seat. I was beginning to panic, was I being kidnapped?

Looking up I noticed the television screen, one of those put in buses these days so the driver can check that everyone is behaving. It showed me and no one else. Slowly it panned the downstairs area and then it began to search the upper deck. At first it seemed completely empty but then it stopped, showing the back of someone's head. My companion from the bus stop. For a moment I felt relieved, normality had returned. But slowly he turned around. The camera had stopped its meanderings around the bus and was focussed completely on my sole co traveller, he seemed to be staring directly into my eyes.

I tried to scream, to run but I was rooted to the spot. Here was the subject of all my childhood nightmares. All those horror films I had watched, all those scary stories were here, embodied in, him!

I'd sat through innumerable spoof horrors, laughing at the stupidity of central characters who had put themselves into impossible situations. And here I was, on a bus with only one other passenger, taking a journey to, to where? A driver who seemed unaware, or more terrifyingly aware, of our ultimate destination. And on the upper deck, a creature. An omniscient creature who always succeeds, regardless of opposing forces. A creature who signalled my fate.

The bus stopped. The doors opened, silently, the driver turned and stared. We were at a set of gates.

Slowly they opened. Beyond, beyond I could see, a figure waiting, my future beckoned.