The Ferryman

"Flight cancelled?" Alice muttered to herself as she looked up at the airport notice board, checked the departures column again and shrugged. There were other ways to get to Chicago, surely.

She wasn't particularly looking forward to this convention but her boss might notice if she didn't show up at all. Would he though..? No, no, he would and it would be a hassle. 

The clerk at the information kiosk certainly tried her utmost to dash Alice's unassailable spirits. If a stormfront had indeed hit Chicago it would appear it had hit her humour first and left only devastation in its wake.

''No ma'am, all grounded.'' she said with the sultry tone of a person thoroughly disappointed by their station in life. 'Chicago's been hit by a massive blizzard and we don't see the airport being cleared any time soon. The rental cars are most likely all gone this late at night but..' - a smirk made it's way across her face as if somehow she were privy to some 10th circle of hell only she could condemn unfortunates to -''..you could take the Greyhound...''

''Thanks..'' Alice chirped in response, as if she was wholely ignorant of the tone in which this sagely advice had been meant. ''..I'm sure I'll find my way there, have a nice day!''

The clerk's entire being exuded the fact that she would by no means 'have a nice day' and neighter Alice nor God himself could make her.

Alice looked at her busticket. All the rental cars had indeed long been poached. A little over 6 hours from St. Louis to Chicago by bus, most of it in the night. Could be worse she thought. She wasn't quite sure how yet but she'd think of something, she was a 'glass-half-full' kinda woman like that. 

''Ticket please.'' grumbled the driver. Alice halted in her tracks, halfway in the doorway of the bus. It was as if she'd been having a one sided argument in her mind for decades and suddenly all the whitty retorts and all the fight had been knocked out of her and silenced. Anybody on a first-name basis with her would have called that an exceptionally rare event.

'Ticket please'' the driver repeated in an annoyed tone, barely looking up from the dash. Alice handed over the ticket and the driver callously punched it, handing it back to her. She took the ticket in a numb hand and found an empty seat halfway down the isle.

The man in the seat next to hers was sleeping, he'd had a nightcap or twelve by the smell of it. He was propped up against the window and showed the bare minimum of what might constitute as 'life-signs'. The first few hours of that busride went by fast, to Alice they went by in a blur.

''Hey, what's your name?'' rumbled the inebriate next to her as his body reluctantly hurtled back to life.

''Alice'' she said more out of polite habbit than any will to have a conversation.

'That's nice, mine's Jack, so where are you going, to Chicago as well? You know I happen to know some people there, they've always got some good parties up their sleeves, you're just pretty enough to tag along...''

Before this Alice had been too absentminded to properly pay attention to her fellow traveler. Frankly the distinct odor had been more than enough, something overtly reminicent of stale tabacco and even staler cat pee. Not entirely unlike smelling salts the combination of this pungent miasma and the man's abrasive attitude snapped Alice back to reality and restored some of her spirit.

''Look, Jack is it?''

''That's right.'' he flashed a leering, yellowy grin with much more confidence than it rightly deserved.

''Jack, from the looks of you you've had quite a few 'good parties' too many. And from the smell of you I'm glad I was absent from those festivities. By all means lets keep it that way shall we?'' bit harsh but she didn't figure this Jack was a man for subtelties, besides, her mind was elsewhere right now.

''No need to be a bitch! I try to be nice, I'm all polite and this is how I get treated?! You're nothing but a.....''

Alice got up and looked around. She'd heard this countless times before from countless 'Jacks', he wouldn't simmer down any time fast. The only other free seat by now was all the way up front to the right, behind the driver. And she was ready for it, been waiting nearly 20 years for it really. She grabbed her bag and with willfull determination she stalked to the front of the bus and sat down.

For the first hour she didn't say anything. She cought herself looking at the side of the drivers face. About 55-60 years old, well groomed, even if he did have a bit of a gut. She couldn't tell from this angle obviously but she imagined he still had those piercing steel-gray eyes he had in the old pictures mom had kept, and had kept hidden. Fuck he looked a lot like Andy.

''I think uncle Robert knew.'' she started slowly as she looked straight ahead at the windshield, balling her fists. Not quite a blizzard yet, but the snowfall was starting to get heavier. ''When Andy died uncle Robert went looking for you, said he never found any trace. Mom's side of the family always were pisspoor lyers.. I think he found you, told you and you just didn't care.. Rumour had it you got a new life in Chicago though, a new family...''

The headlights of the bus blazed a steady path through the darkness. The wipers sweeping barely enough flakes off the windshield to see through. The driver gave no sign of recognition as he forged on into the night.

''It's absurd how much he looked like you as he got older, Andy. You have no right to that. You weren't his father, he didn't have one. Me and mom raised him and we did a good job, a very good job. And when Andy died in that carwreck and it was just me and mom we were still better of without you.'' the words were coming steadier now, stronger, like a percussion section building up to a crescendo. 

''Mom died 4 years ago, did uncle Robert tell you? Would you have cared? I could never stop myself wondering where you were, what you were doing.. And here you are, like some ferryman of the damned between your old life in St. Louis and your shiny new life in Chicago. Never bothered even to look in..''

The bus slowly ground to a halt at an empty buster minal and Alice got up and grabbed her bag.

''Your ticket says Chicago, we're still a few hours away.'' the driver stated matter-of-factly. His dull gray eyes set in a weathered face, now for the first time seeking hers and finding no reply.

''Guess I'll have some explaining to do to my boss. I'll make my own way home, I always have.'' she looked straight past the man as the door opened with a satisfying hiss.

Alice stept into the cold night air, her racing heart slowly being calmed by the quieting blanket of snow.