As I rush towards the bus stop, I feel a salty droplet snaking down from the middle of my lobster red forehead, coating my eyelashes and stinging my eyes. Blinking furiously, I purge my eyes of my sweat just in time to see the angry red glow of the bus’s taillights as it pulls away from the stop at a snail’s pace. With one final glance behind me, I plonk my bottom down onto the cold, hard metal of the seat and, shielding my eyes from the brilliant sunlight and sighing resignedly, I search the bus timetable for confirmation of what I’m sure I already know. I settle in for 26 minutes of boredom, or ‘quiet contemplation’ as your parents will undoubtedly call it.
Craning my neck to the sun, I press my palms to my eyes. I let myself pretend that the black shapes moving in my vision now are handsome knights battling dangerous dragons, that the sunlight creeping in from the sides is simply the aura of magnificent beauty emanating from the perfect princesses in their foreboding, impenetrable towers and fortresses. A shuffling noise disturbs me and drags me out of my hallucinations. I move my hands to the more socially acceptable position of lay in my lap and sneak glance at my harbinger of doom or ‘reality’ as the more foolish amongst you may know it. I’m somewhat annoyed to see a distinctly average elderly lady before me.
“Jason! Jason!” she hisses. I don’t answer. My name is Peter. As moments of silence pass and nothing more is said, the idea of continuing the game I was interrupted from creeps steadily further to the forefront of my mind and I feel myself close my eyes in preparation. A hot, wet feeling on my right cheek tells me that this is not one of my best ideas. Steeling myself, I open first my right, and then my left eyes simply to confirm what the right was seeing. I find myself staring into her eyes, her face inches from mine and her halitosis damply hitting my cheek. Nobody could say she looked average now. Her hair had frizzed wildly and her eyeballs were tinged with a sickly green glow as she pushed her face further into mine. I remember my father telling me it’s rude to stare and I try to wrench my eyes away, back towards the sun. She shifts around and, once more, her crazed face fills my vision.
“I saw that man again this morning.” She whispers frantically to me. I roll my eyes towards the heavens and strain my ears for the sound of the bus. Nothing. All I can hear was the faint rustling as she runs her jagged nails along her arms, and I can’t help but stare as angry red lines blossom on her skin. “You’ve got to listen to me. You’ve got to help me. He’s everywhere, I can see him everywhere, but they say he’s nowhere. I know, though. I know he’s coming for me.” I risk a glance at the digital watch fixed to my wrist. I’ve got time to kill before the bus.
“I can see him, too.” I’m humouring her, trying to make my eyes as frantic and wild as her round saucers.
“He’s here?! Oh God, Oh God! Oh God, Oh God...” she chants, eyes darting as she pulls a foil hat from her bag with a flourish. “He can’t see me when I’ve got my invisibility cap on AND HE CAN’T GET ME IF HE CAN’T SEE ME! Hahahahahaha” I watch her fix the cap to her head and feign surprise.
“I’m sure there was somebody else here at this bus stop with me!” My voice drips with sarcasm as I pretend to glance around and then settle back on the metal seat. “Perhaps I imagined it. Perhaps I’m... Insane.” I shift my eyes pointedly to the woman in the foil hat. The bus nears and she put out her arm to hail it. The bus doesn’t stop. The driver doesn’t see her. A man walks by, being dragged slightly forward by a German Shepherd bounding towards me. I smile at him, and the woman gives a wave. He smiles hesitantly back at me, but there’s no flicker acknowledgement directed at the woman in the hat. My eyes widen, but it’s no pretence this time.
I feel a tap on my shoulder, and then guiding hands cupping my elbows and crane my neck to see who’s approached. Looking round, there is no longer a crazed wretch standing in the bus shelter next to me. No foil hat, no string bag of catfood, no evidence she was ever there. A kindly face swims into my vision, and the grip on my elbows tightens slightly. Somebody is saying my name and it sounds like heaven as I sag slightly in their arms.
“Peter. You can’t go running off like that! You know this is only a quick trip out and then we have to get back to the hospital. Your tablets were due 26 minutes ago and you know how you get when you haven’t had your medication!” The man in the white coat (a snowman? A priest?) chastises me gently, leading me back the way I have come. I am steered towards a long white bus. I am steered towards a crowd of crowing men and women. I am steered towards home.
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