The Bus Ticket
(Written in November 2010 by Kate Pool)
Zoe was a rebellious woman in her early twenties. She had attended three different colleges in hopes that she would find her knack. She seemed to excel in parties, men, quitting jobs, drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes and snapping her fingers at the local poetry bar. Nothing else interested her. After four semesters of a “C” average and failed trade school classes, she found herself taking a front desk job for the very school she failed. It was a simple job, handling phones, filing, and taking appointments.
Zoe woke up late on her first day to work and quickly dressed herself in the jeans she wore the day before and a wrinkled blouse from on her closet floor. She strolled into the two story pink building with her washed out brown hair pulled up loosely in a bun and her flip flops announcing her tardiness. There wasn’t anyone behind the front desk and no one in the office. The sun was coming in the front windows revealing all the dust her flip flops had kicked up. A young man sat in the waiting area by the front desk. Zoe looked around the foyer then stood by the front desk with a blank look on her face. She was biting her lower lip while leaning on the desk with her hands stuffed in the back pockets of her Levis. The man looked up and ran his fingers through his unkempt, unwashed, curly hair and cleared his throat.
“Can I help you?” Zoe said sheepishly.
“Indeed, madam…” he said smirking. “My name is Elliott, and I believe you must be Zoe. I am supposed to be showing you the ropes today.”
Elliott stood up, took a few steps forward and extended his hand to greet her. She smiled and paused to get a better look at him. She immediately noticed his five o’clock shadow at nine in the morning and the white button down surf shirt with coffee stains. His shirt was buttoned all the way up to his neck and half tucked into his faded blue Dickie slacks. His blue eyes were refreshing; his smile slightly crooked revealing his coffee and smoking habit from his lightly stained teeth. He pulled the unkempt look off very well.
Zoe shook Elliott’s hand and said hello.
They got started with all the mundane things that the job required, pausing often to talk about personal likes and dislikes while catching each other’s eyes, finishing each other’s sentences and comparing personal notes about poetry, music, spiritual ideals and the Beatnik Generation. They were so lost in each other’s company they forgot to order lunch until 2pm and almost forgot to call to confirm the next day appointments during the last hour of the shift.
The day was ending and the sun was no longer shinning through the door revealing the kicked up dust.
“Ya know, um, you are my replacement here.” Elliott said quietly with his hands behind his head and his feet shuffling from under the desk. “They let me go…didn’t give a really good reason…they just said that I didn’t fit here and I should train the girl coming in to replace me.”
Zoe didn’t know what to say. They had been flirting all day and she just assumed they were going to be working together. She took a deep breath to keep her heart from coming up in her throat and apologized softly. Elliott just sighed and said, “It’s just weird training my own replacement. It’s not like I quit or something…”
They sat in silence for a moment and then Elliott perked up and said, “So anyway, I wrote something after they fired me and I didn’t like it at first, but now I think that it is humorous.”
Elliott took a tattered green notebook from his back pack; turn over a few pages and began to read aloud.
“A time away
A time to heal
Only to remember
To discover again
That Jack Kerouac has all the answers
And, alas, now do I!”
Their first shift was over and Elliott asked Zoe for a ride home. She accepted and asked him where his house was.
“I really don’t want to go home…” he said staring at the floor board of her car.
Zoe was confused and asked him where she should take him.
“Anywhere else; I don’t care.” He mumbled.
She started her little black Escort and drove to her apartment. The ride was quiet, as was the walk up the stairs and through the front door. They sat on the couch and turned the TV on. After a half and hour Zoe broke the silence.
“Are you hungry?”
“Sure.” He said without breaking his gaze on the TV.
“I don’t have much but I am good at making things up.”
“I am not picky.”
Zoe smiled and started toward the kitchen. She could feel him watching her walk away.
“Do you mind if I take a shower?” he asked.
“No…” she paused, “Do you need something clean to wear? I was going to do a load of laundry. I can put your clothes in with mine.”
Elliott looked down at his shirt and patted down the buttons. He brushed his pants off like there was something on them. He chuckled weirdly.
“Yes, madam, indeed I am dirty.”
She liked the way he spoke. It was weird and geeky, but charming.
She gave him an old boyfriend’s shirt and mesh shorts to wear while his clothes were washing. She didn’t ask him if he cared about wearing another man’s clothes. She was just glad that she hadn’t donated them to the shelter yet. While he showered, she made grilled provolone sandwiches on challah bread. She cut up some strawberries and proclaimed it a feast. They ate on the living room floor and enjoyed some light conversation in front on the TV. Eventually Elliott fell asleep on the floor.
The next morning Elliott woke up in the same place he had fallen asleep with a pillow under his head and a Chanel afghan over his legs. He noticed the smell of coffee and his clothes nicely folded on the arm of the couch. When he had finished getting dressed, Zoe was bouncing into the living room. She was smiling and radiant. Her hair was pulled up in a bun and her clothes were clean and pressed. They greeted each other and dawdled over a cup of coffee while watching the morning news. When it was time, they drove back to the pink building in the same manner they left.
The second day went much like the first. Elliott was showing Zoe all the responsibilities that came with the job. In the silence moments between phone calls, filing papers, and sending out advertisements they shared pieces of themselves while admiring each other.
“Can I ask you a question?” she said
“Of course, but I don’t guarantee an answer.”
“Why didn’t you want to go home last night?”
Elliott frowned and looked out the dirty window at the freeway. It was raining outside and the thunder was rolling. He scratched his head, pulled up his pants and sat down in another chair. He was stalling.
“I live with my girlfriend. I mean, she isn’t my girlfriend anymore. When I told her that I was fired, she was irate. She asked me to move out. There is more to it, really. We have lots of history, but that is all I want to talk about. Christine is weird.”
“
I don’t know what to say,” Zoe gasped, “Is there something I can do? Do you need help moving your stuff?”
“Oh...no…that’s not necessary. I decided that I am going to leave it there. I have exactly what I need in my back pack. I decided to start over new and fresh.”
“Maybe you can donate your things. The shelter that I give to always needs whatever can be given. They helped me when I was down and out. That’s how I got my car, ya know? Now I am in a better place and I like to give back what I can.”
After she said that I huge clap of thunder sounded off. It shook the pink building. They exchanged a slightly surprised look. Elliott smiled and laughed at himself before he spoke.
“You know, I think that the thunder is the sound God’s eyes make when he is rolling them at me.”
They laughed together and went back to stuffing envelops and answering the phones.
For the next few days the same things happened. However on Friday Elliott announced it was his last day to work in the pink building. Zoe was sad to know that she wouldn’t be working with him, but had a silent confidence that he wasn’t going any where. The work day ended and they exited the pink building together. Zoe unlocked the car, but Elliott just stood on the sidewalk. Zoe looked at Elliott blankly as he reached in his navy blue Dickie slacks back pocket and pulled out a green slip of paper.
“It’s a bus ticket….to…um…to Chicago.” He said as he scratched his scruff with the bus ticket.
“Chicago?” she asked.
“Yeah, I bought it when they fired me.”
“So…do you want a ride to the bus station? When do you leave? I mean…what?” Zoe was so hurt and confused.
“No…I don’t…I mean…maybe if you…” Elliott trailed off.
“If I…what?” She was irritated.
“There are two bus tickets. I bought one for Christine, but she didn’t even give me a chance to present my idea to her.” He paused for a moment, “Come with me.” He said as he stuffed them back in his pocket and lit a cigarette.
“Come with you? Are you nuts? I just started this job…and…I just can’t get up and leave!”
“Sure you can. Come with me and we will be together and we will start something new together, doing what we really like to do. You don’t want to be trapped in this pink building day after day, do you?”
Zoe smiled and he smiled back. He was so cute and convincing, she thought, even though he had no argument and didn’t give a single solid reason for taking a bus to a strange city.
Zoe nodded, opened the passenger door of her car and motioned for him to get in.
The next morning the manager of the pink building came to work and noticed a post it note on the locked door that read, “Look in the flower pot”. She looked and there were Zoe’s and Elliott’s front door keys and employee cards.
Across the city at the shelter’s parking lot was an envelope taped to Zoe’s little black car’s driver’s side window. The envelope had the word “Director” on the front.
When the shelter’s director pulled in the parking lot and noticed black car was in his parking space, he was annoyed. He parked next to it and noticed the envelope. He opened it and read the note out loud.
“Thank you for the generosity over the years.
The key is in my usual hiding place.
‘Give, and there will be gifts for you’, Luke 6:38.
He smiled because he knew exactly who wrote the note. But before he started in the building he peered into the back seat of the car and noticed it was filled with books, clothes, CD’s, linens and canned food. He just nodded his head and felt blessed. Later that day, he found the trunk was full of Elliott’s things as well.
