Bus Ride

The bus departs from a stop.

           Two women seating in the middle section on the same seat are in conversation about their present and future life events. To other passengers and the driver, it is loud chatter on personal matters that they do not care to hear. Except for the driver, who is stuck, passengers cannot wait get off the bus at the next stop to leave the chatter behind. Others wish that the women would leave the bus before their point of departure. These wishes come true as the women step off the bus at their stop through the middle doors. At the front door, an elderly man steps onto the bus, pays his fare, then steps along the aisle and sits on the seat that those two women once occupied. He opens the Daily Newspaper flipping to the sports pages. The bus rolls on and stops and an elderly man step onto the bus pays his fare then steps along the aisle. He sees the empty seat by the elderly man then sits beside him. He notices the man’s interest in the Phillies baseball team.  

           “Think the Phillies will win the series against Toronto?” He asks.

           “I am betting on it, but not money, my hopes because we need a series win,” man says.

           “My name is Carl,” he says.

           “James,” he says.

           “It has been thirteen years since we’ve been in a world series,” Carl says.

           “Yeah, it has been a long dry spell at that,” James says.

           “It sure has been,” Carl says.

           “Well, we have the bats, but the pitching is by luck,” James says.

           “Yeah, and Toronto have both, the bats are red hot and the pitching is streak lighting,” Carl says.

           “Yeah, you are right about that,” James says.

           “That nineteen-eighties series was a good one,” Carl says.

           “Right on but we had a very good closer, Tug McGraw, and the bases were well covered, especially with Mike Schmidt at third and there was Steve Carlton sharing the mound,” James says.

           “Don’t forget the outfield,” Carl says.

           “Yeah, they had gloves like glue, feet like greased lighting and powerful throwing arm,” James says.

           “If they could bring back someone like Steve Carlton at the mound maybe we would have a better chance with Toronto,” Carl says.

           “Yeah, he was the best with four Cy Young awards,” James says.

           “I remember one year when he won more games than the bats.”

           “You’re right about that but during those years with Carlton the Phillies won five division titles and two pennants.”

           “And the nineteen-eighty world series that they won do you think that Pete Rose had a lot to do with that win.”

           “He sure did but I will always believe that he pulled the team into a better camaraderie. It was sad when he managed the Cincinnati Reds and all of those accusations that he had to go through.”

           “Wait a minute, wasn’t Carlton pitching then too?”

           “Yeah, you are right, and you know what, I mean just think what would have happened if they were with the team in nineteen-sixty-four.”

           “Oh wow, with twelve games to go and with a six or seven game lead and they blew it.”

           “I recall when Jim Bunning pitched that perfect game against the Met’s in the same year.”

           “What did they call it? The national league first prefect game of the twentieth century.”

           “Yeah but lost the pennate the same year.”

           “I thought that they were going to run that manger out of the city tarred and feathered.”

            “Gene Mauch that was his name.”

           “Phillies have not come that close to a world series since nineteen-fifties.”

           “That series the Phillies lost four straight to those damn Yankees. Did you ever go to the Connie Mack?”

           “Oh yeah, my father took me there many of Saturdays and a few Sundays.”

           “It was a block adventures for us kids then on one Saturday a month. The block leaders took us there for being good kids even though some of us were not.”  

           A commotion up front at the driver’s seat draws their attention.

           “You can’t bring that onto the bus,” Driver says.

           “Why not?” She asks.

           “It’s SEPTA rule (he points); it’s right there for everyone to read.”

           “But I can’t throw it on the street because that sign says no littering.”

           “You have to get off and drink it while waiting to catch the next bus.”

           A man intervenes loudly says. “Hey driver let that honey onto the bus. I will make sure that she will not spill any of that Slurpee.”

           Another man not knowing the full situation shouts after seeing the woman.

           “Hey, I will pay her fare if she is short of funds.”

           A woman counters loudly. “Hey, please do something because I don’t want to be late for work.”  

           “Man, you are luckily that I’m not in a hurry,” woman with drink says. She steps off the bus that has to wait for the green light then it is rolling.

           “I know that you heard of the Negro baseball league?” James asks.

           “Oh yes, my father was a baseball nut and everything about baseball he wanted to hear about it or read about it,” Carl says.

           “That is where the dodgers got Jackie Robinson. It was the Brooklyn Dodgers back then.”

           “I recall that my father would mumble about why didn’t the Phillies grab Satchel Paige from the Negro league Philadelphia Stars.”

           “Yeah but he got to pitch for three major league teams and even played in a world series, and I think, anyway, he made it to the hall of fame and even pitched in two all-star games. And there was Josh Gibson who was called the black Babe Ruth, but he died before he could even be thought of to play in the majors.”

           “If there was not such a blind eye back then.”

           “This is my stop.” James pulls the cord. Carl moves so James could step into the aisle. He does and walk to front of the bus. He holds the bar until it stops. It stops and he descend down the steps. The Black man stops turns and waves his folded paper to say so long to his temporary baseball companion and the White man waves a hand to say goodbye to his temporary baseball companion.