New York City Sunshine

         Barbara sat behind the glass enclosure in the Trailways Bus Terminal.  She sipped her sugary, lukewarm coffee and pulled her cardigan sweater over her buxom chest.  It was raining outside early this morning and there was a chill in the air; a big difference from the warm June temperature of yesterday.  Her long blonde hair was still damp.  She took an elastic from her metal desk drawer and put her hair in a loose pony tail.  That done, she took a look at the passengers that were coming into the small sitting area of the terminal.  Four women came in laughing as they shook out their wet umbrellas and stored their suitcases and backpacks by the green connected seats. They threw out their arms wide to give one another big hugs. 

            Mmm, Barbara thought.  They must be going on a women’s weekend to NYC.  After  six years of selling tickets in the Springfield terminal, she could tell a lot about the travelers that came into her waiting area.   She turned her head to the left and saw a young man in his twenties finger picking his way on his computer; a student.   Sitting next to him was a  lean, older black woman, dressed in a neat white blouse, grey skirt with her beige raincoat folded and draped over her small suitcase.  Visiting the family in Brooklyn, Barbara thought. 

             Through the sliding doors a tall black man appeared.  He was wearing a Mexican serape; bold green and blue stripes were woven vertically making the man appear even taller.  He was pushing a small cart which had a huge plastic tub on it topped with a folding table. The street vender, Isaac, Barbara said to herself.

             He came towards the ticket window and with his broad smile and African accent said, “Good morning Barbara, and how are you on this fine rainy day?”

            “Wet”, she mumbled.

            “Ah but the sun will shine today. I promise”, Isaac said with a twinkle in his eye.

            “What weather report did you listen too?” She asked.

            “The one for the Big Apple, Barbara.  Sunshine in the BIg Apple” he said with his deep melodic voice.

            “Well, here it is going to be rain. rain, rain all day. Which I guess doesn't’ matter since I am inside this place until late this afternoon.”  She looked at him with a tired expression as she handed him the ticket and his change.

            “Don’t look so glum, my friend.  Tomorrow will be another day and sunshine may just smile on your pretty face.”

            At that remark, Barbara pulled her sweater tighter and knew she was blushing. Isaac gave out a huge laugh. 

            “See you tomorrow my friend and he rolled his cart away towards the line that was forming to get on the bus.”

            By the end of her shift, she would be on her way to Stop and Shop to pick up something for dinner and maybe a movie.  It was her free night.  Her weekend without Nolie.  She hated when Nolie was not home and with her dad in Hartford. Barbara missed Nolie as soon as she got into his car.  Yet, having the weekend to herself was, well, like going away on a bus. Something out of the ordinary.  Yes, she would get herself a comedy, something that would make her laugh, laugh as loud as Isaac just did.    Issac, she thought of that tall man again.  Sunshine in New York City. 

             Here she sits in the florescent light of the bus terminal day after day and has never stepped onto one of the buses.  Hell, she could even go for free. Yet, not once in the six years did she climb up the steps to sit high up in one of the buses.  Granted six years ago she had a one year old daughter and two years later was a single mom; Derrick cheating on her with that woman that was now his wife. She looked out the window as the rain came down in torrents.  Then she looked at the newspaper’s weather report, today 90% rain, Sunday 80% rain with thunderstorms.

            Her heart skipped a beat as she tried to slow down her mind and what she was thinking. She looked at the digital clock on her desk 7:15 AM. The bus was leaving in five minutes.  She took a big swallow of her now cold coffee, buttoned up her sweater, reached for her black pocket book that was in the bottom drawer and stood up. She quickly scrawled a note on a piece of paper;  Emergency with child, will return tomorrow.

              She looked around the office, took a big breath and stepped out into the waiting room.  The line for the bus had vanished.  She moved slowly to the door, opened it and felt the rain on her face.   The bus driver, John, was a regular.  She looked him in the eyes and said, “I’m riding for free today, John.”  With that she took the steps up onto the bus,made her way down the aisle, and saw Isaac sitting by the window third of the way down the bus.

            Isaac looked up at Barbara as she stood there clutching her black pocketbook.  Barbara’s face broke into a smile and said, “I’m looking for sunshine.” She took the seat beside him and the bus rolled away from the terminal towards New York City.

Marilyn London-Ewing
June 2012

Seth's Pond

An excerpt from "Bella and Bea," a novel for preteens

Bea got on her bike and went down the hill to the pond.  She put the bike down by the wooden railing and made her way onto the shady path; the coolness of the air inviting like a cloud moving across the hot sun. As she came nearer to the water’s edge she heard whistling.   She began to whistle back. Suddenly the whistling stopped and Bea stood still.

“Hey,” yelled Bea and then she let out a whistle. She looked down the shoreline but it was empty except for some big rocks and  course sand on the shore.

Suddenly, a shrill whistle screeched in the silence. It was so close that Bea jumped.

She turned around and saw Jono

“Hey, what are you doing? That hurt my ears,” said Bea a bit irritated.

Jono just shrugged his shoulders and scampered down the path towards a rock that was half in the water.

Without an invite, Bea followed him thinking that if he didn’t want her there, he would say so.  Near a tree on the shore, Jono had stashed a fishing rod and tackle box.  He took out a fishhook from his tackle box and attached it to his rod. He then held up some bait; a slimy, squirmy worm.

 Bea held out her hand, a gesture that made Jono raise his eyebrow with surprise and curiosity.

“Do you fish?” he asked.

“I have,” said Bea not offering more information.

“Okay, let’s see you hook the worm and set out the line.”

Bea smiled and took the wiggly worm out of Jono’s hand.   She hooked the worm and swung the rod overhead. Jono watched the arc of the line and the spot where the hook landed in the water.

“Nice,” he said.

Bea smiled again and handed the rod to Jono.

For a while all they heard was the soft rustling of leaves and bird songs. Bea broke the silence. “Where’s Lucky?”

“Dad took him to the vet’s,” said Jono looking out into the water.

“Is he okay?” Bea asked with concern.

“Yeah, needs his yearly shots.”

“You must love having him.  He’s such a good dog. So, why the name Lucky?”

Jono’s face darkened as if a stormy cloud covered it.   “Just because,”  he said more quietly.

“Because he gives you luck?” Bea asked

“Not really ...”

“Well, is it because he’s lucky, I mean like being a cat that has nine lives?” Bea persisted.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.  He was brought to the animal shelter when he was a pup. There was a fire and well his mother and another pup from the litter didn’t get out in time. But Lucky did and we got him. We didn’t name him; the people at the shelter did.” 

“Wow that is so sad and happy at the same time.  Lucky was sure lucky,” said Bea as she stole a glance at Jono.

“Yeah he is,” Jono said glancing back at her.

This time, Bea looked straight at him and said, “I hope he brings you luck, Jono,”

Jono did not say anything but looked out into the pond.  It was a beautiful summer day. The water was smooth, soft and still. Every now and then bullfrogs croaked and dragonflies skimmed the surface of the pond.  The blue sky and clouds reflected in the water. Bea looked out to the other side of the pond.

“Jono, what’s the pond like in winter. Can you skate on it?”

“Winter, yeah, you can,” he mumbled.

Before she could stop herself, Bea asked, “What’s it like here in winter?”

The dark cloud came across Jono’s face again. “Cold, icy. I hate it.”

“Oh,” she said softly and remembered  what Dad had told her about the accident  a few winters ago.  She was ready to change the subject when the fishing rod began to bend.  “Jono,” a fish, she whispered, “Reel it in.”

He stood there on the rock and held onto the fishing rod tightly with his left hand as he reeled in the fishing line with his right. He cranked and cranked as the rod kept bending.  Just as he was pulling back on the rod, Bea yelled, “Faster, Jono, faster. It must be a huge fish!”

And out of the water came a good sized bass flopping on the line. With a wide grin, Jono held the fish up high.  The dark cloud on his face was gone.

Marilyn London-Ewing
December 2011