Five Years Later
Zachary rests his elbow on his old leather suitcase and tries stretching his leg out into the dirt-filled walkway of the cramped bus. What was once a somewhat quiet ride, with no one but his family and a few other passengers on board, in more recent years has become an overstuffed breeding ground for whining, tears, shouting, and sweaty outbursts of claustrophobia-induced anger.
His family is once again making their yearly trip to his untie and uncle's house in the big city. It has stayed a tradition for them every summer when school is out and not only the children but their father is home for the short summer months. It's always hard for Zach's mother when the children are around. And it is even harder when his father is home as well.
But Zach doesn't want to think about that now. Because in less than an hour he will be in the heart of the country. He will see the endless orchards, the wisteria bridge, and the ever mysterious 'Welcome to' sign.
The welcoming sign became a unique memory for him after he saw two boys riding their bicycles in front of it when he was young. Two boys who, he can't remember exactly, seemed very close--siblings, he decided--one was teasing the other, or possibly comforting him after beating him in a race. And every year since, he has looked for those two boys, hoping to see them again, or really anyone from the town hidden beyond. He never did.
Only once has the bus actually stopped at the sign that reads "Welcome to". And at that time, only one passenger stepped off the bus and promptly walked away down the dirt road Zach had seen empty of life so many times before. He was fourteen then, and wished more than anything that he had been the one getting off the bus right then and right there with the old stranger.
It couldn't be helped, though.
He inhales the sweat-filled bus air, shifting his suitcase uncomfortably. He refused to let anyone sit next to him, despite the crowd, and now he regrets using his suitcase as an excuse for such a thing instead of just stuffing it into the floor.
He has grown much bigger than he was at eleven years old, but the seats and their cushions have stayed the same. One thing that has changed is the presence of his sister. She is no longer here to make the ride any more unbearable, being off at college now, and Zach is grateful for it.
He turns to see where his mother and the young ones ended up, and sees the boys playing a game of hand-clapping while his mother sleeps soundly against her rolled-up sweater. She won't wake for any amount of quarreling now until they reach their destination and the bus empties, its passengers like stomping elephants rushing out its doors.
He faces forward once more and decides he can afford twenty minutes to rest his eyes. He closes them and is calmed by the rocking motions of the bus, slipping into a deep sleep.
He dreams he is riding a bicycle. He's not owned a bicycle for some time now, but in his dream he doesn't think about that. He just pedals as hard as he can.
He realizes in the dream that he is not alone, that someone else is riding along ahead of him, and he decides to try catching up to his mysterious companion. After all, that is what young boys do, make friends with other boys around them. But no matter how hard he pedals and pants, his breath somehow not catching the right way, his legs not moving the way he wants, he can't seem to match the boy ahead of him.
Squinting ahead, he sees the boy lurch to a halt, and he realizes that what he thought was a brown shirt is in fact the boy's skin, tanned brilliantly by the sun. He wears no clothes above his dirty trousers. The boy tosses his bike down on the ground with one hand, and Zach approaches him, slowing.
"Come on now, did you even try to beat me?" the boy calls triumphantly. Zach reaches him and stops completely, wondering if he should stand and discard his bike, too, or if he should remain seated, saving the effort, for they would surely ride back now the way they came, he and the boy. But the shirtless boy smiles, a sort of sinister and amused smile, like how a fanged cat might look up at him after mauling and dismembering its helpless prey.
"Or maybe you didn't try because you actually wanted to lose the bet we made. Hah!" The boy's body slides closer to Zach, and his hand grips the point on Zach's bicycle seat firmly, close to where his legs are straddling its cracked seams. He's still slightly out of breath. "Betcha thought I wouldn't do it, huh?" he whispers, his hot breath blowing past Zach's skin.
His face is blocking the sun from his eyes, making the boy and his gaze, his mouth, his white-toothed smile the only thing in Zach's vision. He should be asking what bet, or who are you, but he is mesmerized by his new friend. Unable to speak. Unable to look away.
The boy leans his face even closer and pushes his warm lips onto Zach's. He freezes as his lips move with the boy's, up and down abruptly, and the boy's parting lips curl into a smile while his head tilts briefly to the side. Then his lips push harder against him. Not just his lips but his entire body. Zach can feel it pressing against him on the bike. It almost feels as if the unbalanced bicycle will tip over from their combined weight and-
Zach wakes up, startled by the sudden feeling of falling.
Zach wakes, startled by the sudden feeling of falling. He realizes that something must have really happened, because others around him on the bus are crying out, startled and annoyed by some commotion at the back of the bus.
With a gasp, he remembers the bridge and immediately hates himself for falling asleep and possibly missing his chance to view the one thing in his life he truly looked forward to.
Looking out the window, he sees that the bus, which he now realizes is bouncing in an odd, uneven way, is slowing to a stop. After a brake-wailing creep comes a complete halt altogether...directly in front of the 'Welcome to' sign.
He feels a deep shattering feeling in his chest. His heart knows before his head can find the words: He missed the bridge. He had fallen asleep and missed it. He thinks he might start crying, but someone stumbles over his outstretched leg, causing it to twist to the side painfully. He looks out across the crowd to witness the driver exiting the front of the bus.
"Calm down, people, please!" the man shouts up at the windows and walks toward the back of the bus where Zach loses sight of him beyond craning heads and crowding children. "Just a flat tire! We'll be on our way again in no time, you'll see!"
Did we run over something? Zach wonders. He thrusts his back into his seat, hard. Good. Every terrible thing deserves to happen to this bus. He can't stand it anymore and covers his ears, trying to block out the chatter and whoops. He closes his eyes, and doing so brings back the memory of the dream he was woken from. What was that about? He remembers seeing something like that before.
Right here in this spot.
He takes his hands off his head and looks up, realizing again where he is. And then it comes to him. A brilliant idea. So quickly formulated in his mind he doesn't even have time to wonder whether it's a good idea or a bad one. The first idea he gets is to momentarily exit the bus to "stretch his legs" while the bus driver changes the bad tire. Surely he could make a run for the bridge, which is only five seconds down the road by bus. He could see the bridge, in person no less, and make it back here in time to join the driver back on board and on to their destination. He chews his lip, thinking harder.
But...why should I get back on at all?
This thought surprises him, and he immediately rejects the notion in his mind, thinking what an impossibly daring thing it would be. But then he argues that he has never done anything daring or rebellious in his entire life. He can think of plenty of instances when he has wanted to, desperately, even. To refuse to do something he didn't want to do or indulge in something selfish instead of sharing with his family.
His family. Could he really just step off this bus right now and leave them? It's not like it would be forever. Just for the summer; after all, he would have to go back to school in the fall if he wanted to graduate next year.
He lets out a breath.
And that does it. He's made up his mind. His heart begins to beat faster and faster. His limbs feel light and heavy and strong and feeble all at once, and he stands, peeking behind to see his mother undisturbed by the commotion. She will arrive at her sister's house and realize he isn't there and..what? Will she care? Will she cry for him? Will she wonder if he was lost or kidnapped along the way?
His hands rush to his suitcase where he keeps his notepad and pen. He uses it to record thoughts that come to him during the day. This would be, by far, the most adventurous thought he'd had yet. And, sadly, the only words out of this notebook his mother would ever read.
I've gone away. Will return for school. -Zachary.
That is all he has to say about the matter. He rips the page and stuffs it into the crack between the seat's cushion and its back. She'll find it, or someone will. His heart beats like wildfire again as he turns toward the front of the bus, strides purposefully down the walkway, and hops down the steps, landing hard on the space between the gravel and the lush green grass.
His next few steps will place within his view the sign that has for so many years haunted his imagination. He brings one foot in front of the other until before him, flowers framing its wood and concrete finishes, is the monument. With a deep breath, he brings his eyes up to see the words,
Welcome to Shanan: 'Where the earth stands still'