Keeping the Tarnished Read Free Page A

he was only teetering on the fence of hope and complete numbness. He felt that with time and distance, part of him could heal. He had not a clue, however, what healing looked like. He only knew that something inside him told him to run, to exist, and to live.
    The old man had closed his eyes and leaned his head back as if he was going to attempt to sleep. Johnny took the opportunity to examine the man more closely. He was obviously extremely thin, and his facial stubble was completely gray. His thin, red, plaid, pearl-snap shirt appeared to be freshly pressed, and his jeans were extremely skinny. He appeared to be poor, yet made an effort to be presentable. He had the wasted look that Johnny was quite familiar with.
    Many of the fishermen near Johnny’s home that brought up fresh catch from the south had the same appearance. Maybe this man used to be a fisherman. Perhaps that was why he was so cranky. All the fishermen seemed cranky. He probably drank a lot when he was younger, maybe he still drank now. Johnny felt sad for the skinny old man. Regardless of how desperate his own situation was, he was still able to feel some form of compassion for a complete stranger.
    Many of the passengers were now either sleeping or reading papers, books, or having very quiet conversations among themselves or with themselves. Some were vagrant, some were disgustingly filthy, but they all had one thing in common, they were all leaving something behind. This too brought about a sense of comfort. This escape was his only option. He had no resources, but no other choice, so he had no reason to feel regretful. He thought perhaps he should try to sleep too. Maybe when he woke, things would make sense. The bus had left at seven, and it was only noon now. The night at the station was restless at best, and he still had several hours to go. If the man next to him could sleep, then Johnny thought he would be able to as well. He rested his head on the countless greasy fingerprints and closed his eyes.
     
    ***
     
    “Good afternoon, people!” the male driver announced over the loud speakers. “We’re coming up on a stop, you got twenty minutes to grab some grub, use the facilities, and get back on.”
    The bus exited the highway and the station was just off the exit. It slowly began to crawl as it pulled into a fuel station, which had a sign that advertised a Taco Bell and A&W within the store.
    Johnny stretched as much as he could in the cramped quarters, and let out a big sleepy yawn.
    “Yea, I hear ya. I’m dog-tired too,” the old man proclaimed.
    Johnny had never heard someone say dog-tired before, but he got the point. He simply gave the old man a nod and turned his attention to the store outside his window. He thought a hamburger sounded appetizing as he reached for his book bag.
    “Hey, son, you don’t have an extra dollar or two you could spare an old man, do you?” asked the elderly man.
    Johnny looked at the man, and was half tempted to tell him no simply because he had been so grouchy. But he knew all too well the pain of hunger, and the man was very thin.
    “Yes, sir. I got a little,” Johnny replied. He reached into his envelope and pulled out a five-dollar bill folded long ways. “Here you go. My name is Johnny, by the way.” As the man looked at the five-dollar bill, an expression of guilt fell about his face.
    “Why, thank ya kindly, Johnny; my name is Bo.” The man reached out to grab the five. His fingers were dark, long, and skinny, and his fingernails had a yellowish discoloration, probably from nicotine. The majority of the passengers had already exited the bus. The two stood from their seats, Bo with his cane, and made their way down the aisle toward the front of the bus.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Four
     
     
    Rest
     
    “This is a damn good burger for a fast food joint,” Bo said, ravaging the burger and fries the five dollars had bought him.
    “Yea, it is pretty good. So, where are you from,