Parks and Home

She wasn’t really that tired. She had things to do. Things she wanted to do. She hadn’t really thought much about her journey home--but she knew that she was ready to be there. She knew she was ready to soak her feet in the basin. Maybe add some salt to the water. She knew she had a taste for neck-bones and collard greens. She’d add a bit of paprika to the water as it boiled. Maybe sprinkle some basil from her garden in it too. She knew she had some reading to do too. Just a little bit. Her eyes were tired. Staring at folks all day. Reading long lines of words which had nothing much to do with the things which mattered to her most.

Her shawl barely covered her collarbone--leaving it exposed to the harsh southern sun. And loose hair was constantly being tucked behind her ear for want of better views. Strands which did what they wanted when they wanted.

The bus didn’t appear to be crowded. Good. A few patrons greeted her with half-smiles as she made her way to the colored section. They were all tired. Lazy faces and eager hearts wanting home. Awaiting good meals and something refreshing to wash them down with. That’s where they were all headed. Home. The entire lot of them. And she knew this. And that was all right.

She spotted a seat available.

It appeared commonly comfortable.

She manuevered her way past the lady with the blue ribbon in her hair. A girl. Not quite a lady.

“Ma’am.” The girl politely whispered, shifting her legs to make room for her elder.

She sat.

And waited for home.

The man came on abrubtly.

He carried in his arms a case and a bottle of pop.

His forehead was wrinkled and his eyes harsh and unkind.

He demanded she get up.

Then the busdriver from his place up front demanded the same.

She contemplated--for a moment--resisting. And making her own demands. She contemplated for a moment--stirring the pot of hesitancy.

But she decided against it.

She longed for home.

So,

she peered out the window.

Adjusted the purse strap on her shoulder.

And manuevered herself around the man and his heavy shoulders and forehead wrinkles and harsh eyes--being careful not to mash the toes of the young girl with the blue ribbon.

He sat down gruffly.

She avoided his eyes the rest of the way--from her place in the aisle. Staring directly ahead. Lost in her own mind. One arm extended above her--maintaining balance. The other limp and ready for home.