Stranger on a Greyhound
Waiting at the Hyannis station for the 1:20 to Boston,
I suddenly became aware of an older woman across the way watching me -
not a comfy situation for any twenty-something, let alone this Scorpio rising, to be stared at.
Few were going to Boston so when the bus arrived,
i'd grab a double seat, take the one by the window and fill the other one with my stuff –
i did not pack a chit chat mood for this trip to the other side of the state --
in fact i did not want to be making this trip at all, ever,
and especially, not to this memorial Mass
and especially, not to this memorial Mass
(Catholicspeak means: no body = no funeral ) –
the deceased was my love, and for weeks since the plane crash,
i’d been hovering,
somewhere
(i hadn’t yet earned my medicine feather to know ‘where’ that was) .
subsisting only on strawberry koolaid and infrequent bagels --
driven by an unseen force and lacking debris and bodies,
my as-yet unrecognized medicine instinct
sought to defy reality by conjuring an amnesia reunion-type scenario ...
i didn't know it at the time, but i was being taught visualization,
and i practiced until it was near-perfect, while i looked for him everywhere
hoping to spot the back of his head because i'd know him instantly ...
i’d been hovering,
somewhere
(i hadn’t yet earned my medicine feather to know ‘where’ that was) .
subsisting only on strawberry koolaid and infrequent bagels --
driven by an unseen force and lacking debris and bodies,
my as-yet unrecognized medicine instinct
sought to defy reality by conjuring an amnesia reunion-type scenario ...
i didn't know it at the time, but i was being taught visualization,
and i practiced until it was near-perfect, while i looked for him everywhere
hoping to spot the back of his head because i'd know him instantly ...
“Is this seat taken?”
i turned from the window to see the lady starer from the station ...
dumbfounded, uncomfortable, inside my head Scorpio rising screamed,
of course, it’s ‘taken,' you idiot! – can’t you see my stuff?
but gracious vocal chords censored the outburst and replied more congenially,
“No, of course not."
i relocated my pack and stuff under my seat.
The woman slid a well travelled overnight bag into the space above
Keeping watch out the window, i yet felt her anxious willingness to engage.
A time or two we made accidental eye contact and i smiled back
but i was thankful mourning body language easily erects walls
Even still, persistence beckoned and finally, she spoke.
“Y’know,” she said, “i realize i was staring at you in the station,
and i wanted to apologize – it was very rude.”
i shrugged. “It’s okay.”
She went on. “I couldn’t help myself.
You seem so familiar to me, and I’ve been trying to place you.”
This turn in conversation intriguingly promised a welcome distraction
from sorrow’s self-imposed exile.
I turned to her interested.
“Really?’
I turned to her interested.
“Really?’
Nodding, she asked, “‘You live locally?”
My turn to nod. "Just the past month or so, yeah,” i answered.
“Whereabouts?”
“…off the airport rotary”
At that her interest piqued and added a lilt when she said, "Oh..."
Suddenly she was listing stores and such where we might’ve met, or she might’ve seen me,
Suddenly she was listing stores and such where we might’ve met, or she might’ve seen me,
but alas when our circles did not intersect, silence descended and reigned more;
and although i was glad to resume watching out the window,
and although i was glad to resume watching out the window,
her intense interest was palpable, and i grew uncomfortable.
After a short while, she tried again…
“I love to travel," she said lightly. "I’ve been planning this trip for months -
“I love to travel," she said lightly. "I’ve been planning this trip for months -
a big family reunion for my nephew in New Jersey; his First Holy Communion this weekend,"
she said with an understatement belying her northeastern Catholic roots.
"He wants me to be there."
she said with an understatement belying her northeastern Catholic roots.
"He wants me to be there."
Feeling only slightly sorry that i honestly had nothing to say to that,
i nodded and smiled then turned back to the landscape and watched it pass by,i thought about what such a family like hers must be like -
to have an aunt who would travel hundreds of miles
just to see you make your First Holy Communion.
Suddenly this lady next to me seemed different ...
in spite of myself i looked over and smiled which she returned and then asked me innocently enough, “And you? Where are you going?”
and to my involuntarily and obvious reaction, she responded quickly,
“I’m so sorry, dear, you don’t have to answer – I don’t mean to be nosy” –
“to the mountains, a memorial mass, fiancé … plane crash.”
“yes.” …for gods sakes, admonished Scorpio, don’t start crying!
“I know exactly where i’ve seen you...in my bedroom!”
“Excuse me?”
She nodded slowly, apologetically, explaining with a quick urgency
as if she stopped, she wouldn’t be able to start again.
“That night, my husband is the manager of the Hyannis Airport,
and that night he was working that night, and he phoned to say he’d be home late.
and that night he was working that night, and he phoned to say he’d be home late.
Before i went to bed, I prayed a rosary for those lost and their families.
When i finished," she paused, "you appeared in my bedroom ...”
Anyone else might've thought this woman nuts – not me –
instead i studied in her face the look of questioned disbelief
and found myself thinking about that night and those thirty unaccountable minutes
which had been causing particular consternation for me …
which had been causing particular consternation for me …
Exactly at 11:00 that night, quite outside of habit, i’d inexplicably fallen asleep,
and more curiously, awoke promptly at 11:30 -
and even though at the time i recognized how very odd it was
and very unusual enough in itself
(again, with no medicine feather, youth flies blind),
and very unusual enough in itself
(again, with no medicine feather, youth flies blind),
it'd take another few days for me to realize, had i stayed awake,
that i'd've heard about the crash that night on the 11:00 news –
but since i’d fallen asleep, i didn’t find out until the next morning …
and that was what had been eating at my soul ever since,
that when the veil had dropped and my love stolen,
that i did not know for so long
that i did not know for so long
The woman's eyes shone with the battle between faith and reason -
in the search for understanding required to make peace
between that which the intellect says,
and that which the heart knows.
and that which the heart knows.
She was speaking again, nodding at memory's clarity focussing.
“…i remember ... the news was on when it happened, when i saw you...”
“…i remember ... the news was on when it happened, when i saw you...”
NHT
1987, 2015, 2021
related reading: "cracks in the universe"