Gatlinburg was a four-hour drive and Mrs. Creighton managed it in one shot without having to stop for the bathroom or for gas. She chattered non-stop and mom made appropriate replies at the correct times, but I tuned her out and daydreamed. I went over and over the conversation with mom, wondering why we had left this time and at such short notice. I wondered where we would go after the old lady reached her destination and whether we were going on. Whether we had someplace to go after Gatlinburg.
I pulled at Mom’s sleeve and whispered into her ear. She answered me with a smile. “Someone’s meeting us at the bus Depot, Cris. A friend of mine from school.”
I stared at her but said nothing. All Mom’s friends were back in the small town near Pine Bayeux, where my father was a Deputy Sheriff. She hadn’t made any friends in Taylorsville, just acquaintances. I rubbed at my forehead, a serious headache was starting to pound at my head.
“Head hurt?” she asked sympathetically. She dug through her purse for the bottle of extra strength Tylenol and pulled out a Vicodin. We still had a few left from the time I’d been to the ER, it was the only drug that could touch the pain. Knocked me out, though and gave me wicked dreams. Nightmares. I didn’t wake up until Mrs. Creighton pulled into the hotel on the outskirts of the city and went in to confirm her reservation. She left Mom and me in the car and that’s when Mom woke me with a shove and a pinch. I was normally not hard to wake, but the drug had really hit me hard. Even when I opened my eyes and stared blearily at her, I was sort of still stuck in my dreams. Mrs. Creighton came out and told us we had to make our own way as she was heading into her room for the weekend. She told us that the bus station was just a few blocks down the street, and she gave mom cash for the tickets. Mom tried to give it back, but Mrs. Creighton was insistent.
“I’ve seen how that leech stares at y’all,” she mumbled. “I wouldn’t leave a dog in his care. How you stayed for the last year just boggles my mind. Take it, Violet. If not for yourself, for the boy.”
Mom nodded and helped push me out of the big old Subaru, grabbing our suitcase and backpacks. We walked down the street and Mrs. Creighton watched us until we were out of sight before she turned and went into the hotel. I never did find out why she’d driven all that way just to rent a room in the big city. I didn’t think she was there for sex like some of the younger ladies I met at Mom’s motel, but I was often surprised by what some people thought was attractive. Some of the men were downright ugly and I couldn’t see why anyone would sleep with them. Even for money.
It took us a long time to walk but it wasn’t because of Mom. More my fault, I was so logy that I could barely put one foot in front of the other. Finally, she picked me up in her arms and carried me. She could do that because I was so small. Sometimes, the people who didn’t know me thought I was only six or seven, not ten. I hated it, wished that I had grown twenty inches overnight.
The bus depot wasn’t in the best part of town. They never were. They were almost always in the warehouse district, near the railroads where most folks didn’t like to live because of the noise. I thought the sound of trains were cool, especially the mournful throb of the whistle and the clanking of the wheels on the rails.
The depot was in an old train station, one of those long narrow buildings painted green and white. The image of a faded greyhound was still painted on the front wall, but the name of the lines was something else. Coach-ways or Trans-America. We walked inside a glass-fronted door and a bell jingled on the handle. There were old wooden pews in the lobby and not a single person waiting for the next bus.
Behind one of those booths like at the old movie theater sat a young dude with terrible zits across his whole face. I didn’t stare, Mom had taught me not to be rude, but he had a big old black-head I was dying to pop.
“Howdy, ma’am,” he said, and I read his name on his shirt front. Dewayne. “How can I help you?”
“Two tickets to Unadilla, New York,” Mom said. He punched it into his computer and frowned.
“Oneonta okay? The bus don’t go to Unadilla.”
“That’ll be fine,” she said. He touched more keys, his fingers flashing faster than I could watch. He was a speedy typist.
“Bus leaves at nine tonight and will get in about 4 am on Thursday, ma’am. Two tickets will be $297.32 for the both of you. Unless the kid’s under ten. They ride free.”
“Cris is seven,” she said, and I nodded, holding up seven fingers. I resisted the urge to baby talk and play dumb. Although I enjoyed playing the fool, I didn’t want to piss off mom.
She paid for the tickets with our rent money, it came to $125.00 one-way. He tried to talk her into a round trip ticket because it was cheaper that way, but she said she had no intention of returning to either Gatlinburg or anywhere else in the South.
We sat in the lobby and watched the clock drag, we had nearly eight hours to wait. My stomach grumbled, and Mom smiled, asking Dewayne if there was someplace close by where we could eat cheaply.
“The MacDonald's is just a few blocks down the street, but I wouldn’t walk there, ma’am. It’s not a nice neighborhood around here and both you and the kid are...well, I just wouldn’t go out alone. I could order a pizza for you; have it delivered and share the cost with you and the boy?”
My mother nodded, and I nearly jumped up and down in glee. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a real pizza. Mostly, we made do with the kind on English muffins or French bread. He ordered a pepperoni and an everything, said it would be delivered in twenty minutes which I spent glued to the front door. When I saw the truck pull up with the yellow sign on the top, I squealed in delight, opening the door so the driver didn’t have to tilt the box. It came to $9.00 for both and I was digging into the box before Mom had paid the driver. Dewayne gave him a $5 tip but from the look he gave my mother, he might have waived the whole cost. He was drooling as he left the lobby and almost fell over the curb as he got back into the car.
Dewayne laughed. I shoved nearly the whole tip of the huge slice in my mouth and said, “guys always act like that around mom. Crazy.”
“Hey, little dude. Take small bites so you don’t choke.”
I snorted cheese and veggies out my mouth and caught the good stuff before it could hit the floor. Mom slapped me on the arm and told me to behave, show some manners, that she hadn’t raised a slob or a heathen. She gave me two bucks to get a cold Pepsi out of the vending machine and a Dr. Pepper for me. Dewayne had a Mountain Dew, he opened the machine with a key and gave me back Mom’s change.
“Thanks,” I said and swallowed. We ate in companionable silence and when we were finished, there wasn’t a slice left nor a crust. I ate the ones that they left. Burped and said excuse me. He pointed to the bathrooms and said I needed to wash my face. I looked at Mom and she nodded, telling me that it was okay, no one else was there with us and she would be nearby if I needed her.
I went in, washed the sauce and cheese off my face and hands and then did my other business, making sure that I washed my hands again. We spent the remaining time playing card games and telling ghost stories. Before I knew it, I had fallen asleep on mom’s shoulder and woke only as she carried me into the waiting bus. It was huge, smelled bad as it idled and filled with smelly old people and farmers in overalls. I remember complaining as she sat down and set me on the seat next to her but after that, I went back to sleep and didn’t wake until we were in Maryland.