Harriet Beamer Takes the Bus (4 page)

H
ARRIET LOOKED AT THE CLOCK ON THE KITCHEN WALL —
she was leaving it behind for the new owners. “Two o’clock. Humphrey must have landed by now.” She sighed. “I hope he’s okay.”

She finished wiping down the counters and made certain the refrigerator was clean and smelled fresh. As excited as she felt about her decision to take the scenic route and see the country, she also felt nervous, scared to death at times about traveling alone. But she wasn’t about to admit that to anyone, including Martha. God knew her anxieties and that was enough.

“Ah, fiddlesticks,” she said to the clock. “Maybe I should just get on an airplane. I mean what the heck. So I’ll never see the country — what’s so great about a salt-and-pepper-shaker museum anyway?”

She flopped onto the kitchen chair just as her cell phone chimed.

“Henry,” she said. “Did you get Humphrey? How is he? Is he terribly nervous?”

“Yes, Mom. He’s here. He’s fine. But I wish you had come with him.”

“I’ll be there soon. I —”

“Listen, Mom,” Henry said. “Just take the plane. Taking the bus is crazy. It’s nonsense.”

Harriet felt her eyebrows arch like a gothic cathedral. “Nonsense? Crazy? It’s not nonsense. And I am not crazy.” Harriet felt a twinge of courage resurface. “I … I want to see the country before I die.”

“But Mom, alone? Why not wait until next summer, and we’ll all take a trip.”

Harriet sucked a deep breath and let it out slowly. “No, I … I want to do it myself. Now. And I know you mean well, dear, but you and Prudence will never find the time, and I’m not getting any younger.”

“But mom, it’s ridiculous.”

“Sorry. But that’s my plan. Kiss Humphrey on the nose for me and buy him a glazed donut. He deserves it after such a long trip.” She could hardly believe it was her speaking.

“But, Mom, when —”

Harriet closed her phone. She had never hung up on Henry — or anyone — before. She didn’t like the way it felt, but she suddenly needed to take a stand.

She slapped the kitchen table. “I’m doing it. Starting tomorrow morning. Harriet Beamer is taking the bus, and no one can stop me.”

That evening Harriet packed her rolling suitcase. It was purple with silver zippers. She packed only a few articles of clothing — two dresses, two pairs of capris and coordinating tops, her toothbrush, deodorant, things of that nature. She knew she would have to pack light. “I can always buy anything else I might need on the road,” she said as though Humphrey was still right next to her. She even looked down once or twice expecting to see him. She already made sure she had a full month’s supply of her blood-pressure medication, and while she was at the CVS she even purchased a rain poncho in a plastic package. She packed all her other clothes in boxes that Martha said she would ship later. She cried once when
she found one of Max’s shirts stuffed in the back of a drawer. It still smelled like him, well, just a smidgen.

Even after a long day of packing Harriet didn’t sleep well. She took an Excedrin PM. It didn’t help. Not much. She dozed and woke. Dozed and woke. The butterflies in her stomach had morphed into something that felt more like hopping toads. Her last night at home did not pass quickly, but it did pass. As the sun broke, Harriet’s mood rose along with it.

“Okay, Lord,” she said as she dressed. “If I’m doing this, you’re coming with me.” She smiled. “I know, like you’d ever let me go alone.”

Harriet moved her suitcase and tote to the entryway and took one final look at her now nearly empty house. She sniffed back tears and sighed deeply. “Good-bye, house. Good-bye Max. We had a great run.”

After locking the front door for the last time, Harriet met up with Martha. She handed her the key. “Thanks for coming to the bus stop with me.”

“You sure you have everything you need?” Martha asked.

“I have my tote bag filled as full as I can with stuff that I might need to get to easily — you know, my cell phone, a book, my wallet, tissues, pictures of Humphrey and Max, stuff like that. And I packed everything else in this suitcase.”

“Okay, but promise to call me and send me some postcards.”

Harriet hugged Martha. “I will. And you can call me, you know.”

“I will.”

The bus to West Chester pulled up right on time, 7:10 a.m. Harriet froze the instant the door opened.

“Go on,” Martha said.

“I … I can’t. Oh my goodness. Am I really doing this?”

“Yes.” Martha gave Harriet a slight nudge. “You’re really doing this.”

“Are you coming, lady?” said the driver. “I got a schedule to keep.”

Harriet couldn’t move. Her nerves tingled all over. “I … I don’t —”

“You’re going,” Martha said, and she gave Harriet another nudge.

Harriet stepped into the bus. She had her tote over her shoulder and used both hands to lug her suitcase up the three small steps. She cringed at each bump.

“Cash or card?” the driver said.

Harriet put two one-dollar bills into the bill acceptor and headed down the aisle. She dropped into the first seat she saw — a window seat. The bus pulled away. Harriet waved to Martha as a big tear slid down her cheek.

At the next stop a large bald man with scary tattoos on both arms and his neck sat next to her.

She smiled at him, hoping he wouldn’t eat her.

“Hello,” Harriet said.

The man only grunted.

“I’m going to California, well, eventually. First I’m going to Gatlinburg, Tennessee. How about you?” Harriet sniffled. She knew she had to be brave and thought small talk would help hide her anxiety.

The bus driver pulled against the curb. The large tattooed man got up. “Don’t think this bus will get you that far,” he said. And then laughed.

“Well, no not this bus but a lot of buses.”

Then a woman wearing a pink hat and tight white pants sat next to her.

“Hello,” Harriet said. “Do you know how far this bus goes?”

“Just to the university. West Chester University, I think.” The woman’s breath smacked of cheddar cheese.

“Oh, the university. I’ve never seen the university, as long as I’ve lived here I’ve never seen it. Oh, I’ve driven close by it but never actually saw it.”

“That’s nice,” the woman said. She had turned her attention to the other side of the bus. That was when the thought struck. There must be millions of buses in the country. But I wonder if it’s even possible to make so many connections.

She tapped the woman in the pink hat. “Excuse me, but do you think it’s possible to take public transportation all the way to California?”

The woman laughed. “Are you serious?”

“I am,” Harriet said. “As serious as a root canal.”

Pink Hat Lady winced. “Well, I don’t know for sure, but I sort of doubt it. I know SEPTA doesn’t go that far. You’d have to take a lot of buses.”

Harriet smiled. “That’s what is so exciting. I’m going to see the country.”

Two stops later, Pink Hat Lady got off, and a woman in a striped skirt, holding the hand of a small child, got on. She and the little boy sat next to Harriet. From the looks of the woman’s tired eyes and the boy’s mussed hair, Harriet figured they were having a bad day and didn’t say a word, although the little boy smiled and made Harriet remember Henry at that age — they had similar haircuts. Harriet and Striped Skirt Lady rode together to the university stop.

“This must be it,” Harriet said. “The end of the line for this bus, anyway.”

Striped Skirt Woman ignored Harriet and hauled her little boy off the bus in a huff.

“Excuse me,” Harriet said to the driver.

“Can I help you?” she said.

“I was wondering. How can I take the bus to Tennessee?”

The driver laughed. “Are you nuts, lady? You can’t take public
transportation to Tennessee. You need to go Greyhound or an airplane or even Amtrak.”

Harriet shook her head. “Or all three, I suppose.”

Just as she stepped off the bus her phone jingled.

“Hello?”

It was Henry.

“Mom, are you okay? You haven’t answered your phone.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I wanted to get a head start before I called you.”

“Where are you?”

“At West Chester University.”

Henry was silent a moment. But Harriet did hear Humphrey’s distinctive woof in the background.

“Oh, Henry, please tell Humphrey I miss him and give him a good ear scratch for me and maybe a donut. Glazed. Never jelly.”

“I don’t understand, Mom.”

“It’s simple, dear. Just reach down and scratch behind his ears and give him a kiss on the nose. Then go buy him a glazed donut.”

“No, Mother, that’s not what I mean. Why are you at West Chester?”

“I wanted to see it, the university. Like I told you. I want to see things, Henry. It’s a big, beautiful country. And I’ve seen none of it.”

“The Jersey shore.”

“Oh, big deal. I want to see more. I have money, a cell phone, and God. I’m going to do this.” The words left Harriet’s mouth even though her knees felt a little wobbly.

After a quick walking tour of the campus, which she found both exhilarating and daunting, Harriet found a restaurant called Penn’s Table on Gay Street. It was small and comfy and not very crowded. She ordered a cup of coffee, a grilled cheese sandwich with tomato, and a vanilla milk shake.

The waitress was young, maybe nineteen or twenty years old, and wore a green polo shirt with the name Penn’s Table embroidered in white above the breast pocket. Tall and skinny with long
brown hair pulled into a ponytail, the girl introduced herself as Lacy. She wore the tightest-fitting jeans Harriet had ever seen, although she couldn’t say they were lewd or obscene, just tight and made Lacy’s legs look thin as chopsticks. The jeans might as well have been painted on.

Lacy refilled Harriet’s coffee cup just as Harriet swallowed the last bite of her sandwich. The day’s activities made her develop the appetite of a lumberjack.

“Thank you,” Harriet said. “May I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” Lacy said. She smiled.

“Do you think I can get to California on buses? And not Greyhound. I mean regular door-to-door type buses, unless of course I can’t, and then I suppose Greyhound or the train.”

Lacy stared at Harriet for a few long seconds, possibly trying to decide if Harriet had slipped a few gears.

“I’m not crazy, if that’s what you’re trying to figure out, young lady —”

“Oh, no, I’m —”

“It’s okay, dear. I would think the same thing in your shoes. Funny old woman comes in and orders grilled cheese and tomato with a vanilla milk shake and coffee and then asks if she can take the bus to California. Guess it does sound outlandish, but you see —”

Lacy looked at the clock.

“Oh, I’m sorry, dear, am I keeping you from your other patrons?”

“Oh, no,” Lacy said. “My shift ended ten minutes ago.”

“Then you better be going,” Harriet said. “I won’t be keeping you.”

Lacy sat down across from Harriet in the booth. “Are you really talking about taking public transportation all the way to California?”

“I am,” Harriet said. She noticed how Lacy’s bright blue eyes lit up. “Gonna do it too. Somehow. Oh, I’m sure I’ll need to take
a train and maybe even a Greyhound. But first, well, it’s going to sound silly, but I want to go to Gatlinburg, Tennessee, because that is where the only salt-and-pepper-shaker museum in the world is.”

Lacy laughed. “There really is a museum for salt and pepper shakers?”

“Sure is. It’s my hobby. Collecting them. I have hundreds — they’re already in Grass Valley. I sent them ahead. Well, they should be getting there soon.”

“Imagine that,” Lacy said.

“So do you think I can do it? Get clear across the country on buses?”

“I imagine anything’s possible. Especially if you got a GPS.”

“GPS?” Harriet said. “Of course. My son and daughter-in-law use one of those. Do you know where I can get one? It’s not that I don’t like to keep current. I just never saw the need, and if there’s no need, why bother?”

“I can understand that,” Lacy said. “RadioShack or Best Buy might be the best place, but you might already have one in your phone.”

“Really?” Harriet pulled her phone from her tote. “In this little thing?”

Lacy shook her head. “Not so sure about that model. Let me see it.” Lacy opened Harriet’s phone and pushed some buttons. “Nah, you don’t have it, but you could get it. Or just buy a Droid, depending on your carrier.”

“A what, dear? Droid?”

“Sure, it’s the name of a phone. Then you’d have a GPS right in your phone. Should do the trick. Who’s your carrier?”

“Verizon. That’s my …” Harriet’s brow rose. She pushed her glasses into her face … “carrier.”

Lacy smiled. “Okay, there’s a Verizon store down the street actually. I’ll take you there. Sounds like fun.”

“You mean it? Can you help me buy a Droid?”

“I can try, I mean I never bought one before. But … why? You running away from home or something?”

Harriet laughed. “Let’s just say I’m taking the scenic route home.”

Harriet and Lacy walked down High Street until they came to the Verizon store.

Close to an hour later Harriet emerged the proud owner of a spanking new Droid with touch screen technology and a GPS.

Harriet discovered a never-before-tapped interest in gadgets and devices. “I think this phone will do everything but cook my lunch,” Harriet told Lacy.

“No, but it will tell you where you can buy lunch. Just keep it charged.”

“Now did I hear that fella correctly?” Harriet said. “All I have to do is start walking and this little phone will adjust the directions and get me to Grass Valley.”

“That’s right,” Lacy said. “The satellite will always know where you are.”

Harriet looked into the darkening sky. “Wow. From way up there?”

“Yep,” Lacy said.

As Harriet and Lacy strolled down the street, a stationery store caught Harriet’s eye. “Oh, look there. Maybe I should stop inside. I would like to purchase a notebook — you know, to record my … my thoughts along the way.”

Lacy stopped walking. “That’s a great idea, Harriet. You should get a Moleskine.”

“A what? A Moleskine.”