Fear Thy Neighbor (60)
Next, she removed her shirt, careful of her injured arm. When she saw the extent of the damage to her arm, she realized the Ace bandage wouldn’t do much save hide the cuts. Taking a deep breath, she eased her arm under the cool water, carefully wiping away the blood from the cuts; then, she doused her wounds with peroxide, cringing at the sting. Once she’d cleaned up as best she could, she added Band-Aids, then wrapped the Ace bandage around her arm loosely before pulling her shirt back over her head. Another glance in the mirror revealed she looked hideous, but she’d cleaned up most of the visible blood. Knowing it was now or never, she went to the clerk, a woman this time, and asked her what time the next bus left.
“Ten minutes, ” she told her.
“How much?” Alison asked, not caring where the bus was headed, as long as it was out of the state of Ohio.
“Fifty-five for a round trip to Atlanta is all we got now,” she said, adding, “each way. ”
“What’s it cost for one way?”
“Sixty dollars,” she told her.
She counted out the money and gave it to the woman, realizing after her purchase at IGA and this ticket, she only had eighteen dollars left. The lady handed her a small booklet with a number of pages. “Each stop, you’ll need one to show the driver. You’ll change buses in Tennessee.”
Alison had never left the state of Ohio. Acting like she’d done this before, she said, “I know.” She flipped through the booklet. She also held onto the IGA paper bag, thankful it was light.
“You want food, you gotta bring your own,” the clerk told her.
Alison knew it was obvious she’d never traveled before. She held up the box with three remaining donuts. “I’m good,” she said, even as hot shards of pain shot up and down her left arm.
“Then have a safe trip,” the lady added.
Alison took a seat on a highly polished wooden bench, long enough to seat at least a dozen or more. As soon as she settled on the bench, she heard hissing, a squeal, and a slow grind as the brakes from the bus came to a complete stop in front of the station. She couldn’t wait to get on the bus and on the way to a brand-new life. As soon as they allowed her and the six other passengers to board, she chose a seat in the middle of the bus. If she sat in the back, she’d stick out like a sore thumb, the same if she was in the front. Laying her IGA bag on the aisle seat, hoping to deter anyone from sitting beside her even though the bus had plenty of seats, she waited. No one got off in Middletown. She didn’t pay much attention to her fellow passengers, as she was trying her best to appear normal and go unnoticed while waiting to depart.
Feeling safe for the first time since she left the Robertsons, she leaned her head against the window, then jerked away. The cut on the left side of her temple still hurt, and her left arm was useless. Knowing she needed medical care—and soon—if she hoped to use her arm again, she’d have to see a doctor. Searching through the ticket booklet, she saw several stops. If she could make it to an emergency room during one of the stops, she’d get the bone set, a cast or something, then hurry back to the bus station and continue on to Atlanta. Once in a new town, she hoped the hospital wouldn’t ask too many questions. Right now, all she wanted to do was sleep, but pain and fear kept her alert. She wished she had a book or a magazine. Never in a million years did she imagine that the day after high school graduation, she’d be on her own, heading to parts unknown.
The constant hum of the bus’s wheels lulled her in and out of sleep. Finally, she gave in to the need to rest. In spite of the intense throbbing in her arm and head, she allowed herself to drift in and out of a pain-filled state of grogginess.
She was unsure of how much time had passed when the sound of people’s voices startled her awake. The driver was in a heated argument with someone at the front of the bus. It was a voice she recognized, becoming louder with each angry word.
“You better let me on this bus, or I’ll kick your ass!” he said.
Alison cringed, then did her best to lower herself onto the small area where she’d barely had enough room for her feet.
“With no ticket, sir, I can’t allow you to board,” the bus driver stated.
Crouched in such a small space, Alison’s arm hurt even more. How in the heck did he find her? How long had it been since they’d left the station in Middletown? She wanted to ask someone where they were, but couldn’t, because the second he saw her, all hell would break loose.
“I’m gonna follow you, buddy. Your ass is mine next stop,” he said.
The bus driver returned to his seat, then reached for the handle to close the doors. He practically fell backward into his seat, or at least that’s what it sounded like. When the bus finally pulled out of whatever town they were in, Alison pulled herself up and sat back down in her seat. Looking out the window, she saw they were only in Monroe, just a few short miles from Middletown.
A tap on her shoulder from the person sitting behind her almost caused her to bolt out of her seat. She turned to look at the person behind her.
“I know that guy was after you,” said a sweet older woman. “I’ll keep my eyes open.”
Alison nodded. “Thanks.” She couldn’t deny it, and in a way, she was glad someone was looking out for her, even if it was only temporary.
“He the one that hurt you?” she asked.