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A
Rational Fear
His earlier bus had been delayed so Christian and his girlfriend Claire had been forced to drive back to her apartment and return four hours later to catch the 7am Greyhound bus from Boston to Philadelphia. This time, she stayed in the car to kiss him goodbye. The few hours before he left were always the worst for her. Christian could always sense when she went into a melancholy coma because of his impending departure. To love someone as much as they loved each other and to watch him leave week after week was a difficult burden to bear. The future makes no promises to its believers, but Claire and Christian imagined a future as bright as their imagination could dream.
Claire held her tears for as long as she could, and as she turned the corner; she pulled over, put her head on the steering wheel and tears streamed down her face. It was just getting too hard to watch him leave every week, and go back to her empty apartment and cold bed. Before Christian, Claire wasn’t a woman that cried too often, but in the past four months, she felt like an actress in a Lifetime movie with the constant crying. She didn’t mind and rejoiced in feeling her soul awakened by love. Still, sometimes, it embarrassed her to be so vulnerable, but she was in love and didn’t give a damn about appearances. One day, there would be no need to make these treks to Greyhound.
A young woman not dressed for the cold November weather tried in vain to light a cigarette, but was unsuccessful until Christian stopped and lit it for her. She inhaled her cancer stick deeply allowing the poisoned smoke to circulate throughout her entire body, then exhaled slowly as if she was releasing a long held orgasm. Smokers are a breed of people that are hard to understand; they knowingly inhale death into their bodies multiple times a day, and yet when they’re told lung cancer will claim their life in six months-they appear shocked and awed. Why me is the eternal question? Such is life.
The bus terminal was empty except for a few
stragglers and the homeless people looking for a place to keep warm. Passengers
waiting for the bus to
Two young men obviously from the
“Please have your tickets out so you can board the bus quickly,” the driver said to no one in particular as he stood at the door and started taking tickets for what must have been his thousandth trip. With every person that boarded the bus, Christian grew more apprehensive and tried to send the driver telepathic messages that danger was among them. DO SOMETHING ASSHOLE! Christian screamed in his head, but obviously the driver couldn’t hear him unless of course, he had special magic powers. The enemy is among us, and you’re collecting tickets like a dutiful worker instead of getting on the horn to Bush. This is what he’s been waiting for to validate his presidency. Catching the dreaded enemy in the act would give him the necessary ammunition to dance on his pulpit of fear-which was exactly what Christian was doing. His fear wasn’t irrational, and the imminent danger of a terrorist attack was a fact of life, but he didn’t want to look at every person of Middle Eastern descent and have fear in his heart. That’s no way to live. He handed the driver his ticket and boarded the bus, but not before texting Claire an urgent message that he was already missing her and loved her dearly.
Jéan-Pierre,
Dean
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