now what?
maria looked around.
there was not anything to see, especially in the dark.
the lights in the bus station were dim, and maria could not see any movement through the windows.
she did not see any movement in the shadows.
she wondered if the preacher or someone else at the bus station had seen her leave the bag to run after the bus, and come out and brought the bag back to the station.
it did not seem likely, but she might see as well see if such a thing had happened.
and if it did not?
then… maria did not know quite what to do.
except maybe tell the preacher the truth. that she had been given the wrong bag and then lost it.
it was not a very good story. the truth almost never was, and that was one reason maria never had much use for it.
how was she going to explain to the preacher how her bag was on the bus when she did not have a ticket?
she did not want to rat out bill the driver who had been so helpful (or had he?) or her friend dooley who was supposed to be driving the bus to begin with. that would be finkish, and maria did not like to think of herself as a fink, and besides it was bad practice in the long run.
let’s see… she could tell the preacher the driver had put her bag on the bus because he thought she was buying a ticket but then some other folks showed up who already had tickets and he took the bag off the bus that looked like hers but it was the wrong one.
and then it just happened to disappear mysteriously…
that was not too bad. it was close to the truth, and it would have to do.
with a last look into the dark shadows around her, maria went back to the ticket office.
and the preacher was not there.
neither was the little old man who had been there before, and neither was anybody else.
maria went back to the coffee shop.
she felt some relief at actually seeing a human being there.
one human being, the waitress who was leaning behind the counter with her sleeves rolled up and smoking a cigarette. the dirty cups and saucers and plates of the passengers who had just left were stacked on the counter in front of her.
“do you know where the preacher went?” maria asked her.
“what? who?”
“the gentleman who was selling bus tickets next door.”
“oh, you mean mr davis. he does not care to be called ‘the preacher’ like he was the only one on earth. does not care for it at all.”
“i’m sorry,” maria replied humbly. “there was another man at the station and he called him that. i’m a stranger here myself.”
“i guess you are,” the waitress laughed. she did not seen either friendly or unfriendly, and had no age. “that might have been old coley. he just hangs around sometimes.”
“big floppy hat?”
“sounds like him. anyway, to answer your question, mr davis probably went home. no buses until about six in the morning. ”
“but… what if somebody showed up, wanted to buy a ticket?”
the waitress shrugged. “just have to wait, i guess. this ain’t grand central station in monte carlo.”
maria decided to tell the waitress her story about losing the bag. the waitress did not seem surprised or even very interested.
“yeah, strange things like that happen all the time at a bus station.”
maria made one last try. “you say this mister davis went home. i didn’t hear a car.”
“no, he walks, old as he is. he lives just up the hill yonder.”
“oh - maybe i could go up there and ask him if he saw the bag.. maybe he saw it in the street and … rescued it.”
the waitress looked at maria suspiciously. “that seems awful unlikely, miss. if he had he would have waited around to tell you, don’t you think?”
“yes, i suppose you are right.”
“mister davis would not appreciate a stranger lady knocking on his door after midnight. and mrs davis would appreciate it even less.”
“you’re right, i don’t know what i was thinking.”
“you say you have a ticket to pittsburgh?”
“yes.”
“might as well just wait for the next bus then. what else can you do?”
“do you have a pay phone i can use?”
“a pay phone? no, i’m sorry, this isn’t chicago. folks around here wouldn’t use a pay phone, it would just go to waste.”
“is there one in the bus station?” maria could not remember seeing one in the bus station, but asked anyway.
“i don’t think so.”
“i think i’ll go take a look then,”
“suit yourself.”
“you’re not going to close up?”
“this place don’t close. “i’ll be here myself until five.”
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