Last Stop

I pushed the front door of the office building open and walked out into the feeling of cold knives scratching my face. I adjusted my scarf for better protection against the snow and made my way to the cross walk. Waiting for the traffic to clear seemed to take forever. Though the streets were clearly paved, the novices seemed to slow down. The brake lights were always on. I took a chance and jogged across the street, making it across with no trouble. Walking to the bus stop, I took a second to run through my daily tasks for tomorrow. Back when I used to teach high school students, I tried to drill this procedure into their heads. Just organizing your thoughts can get you a long way. I didn't always take this to heart, however. My thoughts were as chaotic as you could get. Notes lined my desk and my home was filled with half finished trinkets I suppose you could call inventions. It was a hobby mostly.

The bus finally came. The way it pulled around the corner made it seem like the ambulance coming to rescue me from this abyss. The metal monster roared as it pulled to a stop before hissing and opening its doors. I stepped inside and paid the driver, who seemed a bit too interested in me.

He stared at me rather intently as I sat down; even as I sat down behind, his eyes followed me through the rear view mirror. Should I have feared for my life? Should I just get off at the next stop and catch the next one? I admit though that his eyes had a certain familiar appeal.

"You wouldn't happen to know a Mr. Jensen, would you?"

The bus driver's voice startled me. The grinding and thrashing of the windshield wipers and the tires against the ground suggested no human communication was necessary. I did however know a Mr. Jensen.

"My name happens to be Mr. Jensen."

By now, I was more than a little nervous when he knew my name. We were the only two on the bus, and I knew how most horror stories start out and then end.

"Did you ever teach at Northbrook? I used to be a student there and you looked mighty familiar."

That's what struck right with me. I knew those eyes were reliable. Jonathan Lewis. He was such a bright kid, with a bright future. Yet, here he was as a driver for the public. I thought he would go on to do great things, not spend a shift sitting and timing the green lights.

"Yes yes. Jonathan Lewis?"

"Mhm! My God, it's been a while!"

It's not everyday you get to catch up with an old friend, especially one that you try to pass all the good onto without the personal issues getting in the way. I learned that once he got out of Northbrook, he set out to do what he wanted: working on rockets for the best and brightest. He went to one of the best engineering schools in the country, graduated top of his class, went to work for one of, if not, the most prestigious companies in the country designing airplanes and the like. After working with that group for about five years, he fell off the map. He raised a family. He became interested in music and was involved in a jam band of sorts. This kid had worked with the best and brightest, but he said that all he wanted to do was talk to the people. Politics was not the road for him, so he tried out public service. He told me the glove fit perfectly, and he wasn't talking about the ones for the snow.