Short Story

A poem from 1986

(For best effect recite in Humphrey Bogart voice.)

I climbed onto the bus

it was the 139 to Dalglish Road

the driver looked at me

I stared at him

he looked at me a little longer

I could see I had him worried

“Dalglish Road”, I growled

“forty pence please”, he replied

I put my hand into my trouser pocket

and drew out some loose change

I handed him a 20p and a 5p

and hoped he wouldn’t notice

he noticed

so I slowly handed him three more 5p’s

and glared at him

“hurry up, please, young man” came the voice of an old lady

I turned around

and looked into her wrinkled face

I smiled

turned around again

and walked on

I elected to sit in the third seat down on my right

I reached for my cigarettes

but the “no smoking” sticker on the window glared accusingly at me

I got up

and climbed the stairs to the top deck

there she was, ahead of me

the only other passenger up here

“of all the seats on all the buses in all the town you had to get onto this one”, she said

I bent down to kiss her

but she turned away

how long had it been?

Three years?

I held her chin in my rough, manly hand

and turned her face gently towards mine

“how’s your mother?” I asked

“she died last week”

“oh”

did you ever wish you’d kept your mouth shut?

I know I do

especially went I visit the dentist