15
Dany
Karl is at the curbside pickup. I walk to his window and he rolls it down.
“Hi Karl. Sorry for the trouble. You can head home. I’m going to take the bus.”
“Miss?” he asks. He knows as well as I that I have never in my life set foot on a bus.
But ten-year-old Dany always wanted to.
This is it. This is the moment that I decide whether or not I can do this. Can I survive and thrive? Experience life through a “fall in love with Dany” list? The bus is my ticket.
“The bus sounds interesting, doesn’t it, Karl?” I ask.
“Interesting, Miss?”
“Yes, interesting,” I say. “I’ve always wanted to ride on a bus. When I was little I dreamed about the smells—vinyl seats, diesel fuel, hairspray and Juicy Fruit gum. Doesn’t it sound wonderful?” In my mind, magical things happened on buses.
“W
