The Ride

I couldn’t believe what I had done. No one thought that I would actually go through with it, but I did. For the past four hours, and sixteen minutes, I’d been sitting on a cold Greyhound bus, listening to the ghostly, devilish voices of my so-called friends, and even my miscreant of a cousin Henry echo through my head, chiding me for not doing some stupid act of initiation in order to become a member of their underground gang that they call The Pride. They actually expected me to one-up the misdeed of the last pledgee, a ruffian from West Street, who without being detected, crept up beside a car, and lifted the old lady’s purse off of her front seat while she pumped gas at Mr. P’s old corner filling station, garnering for himself the rank of Knight, instead of the entry level position of Sentry. These were the same so-called friends who’d called me names for years, elbowed me in the ribs daily as they walked by me through the halls of Rutherford B. Hayes High School when we exchanged classes, sucker punched me when I wasn’t looking during gym class, and constantly hit me with cheap shots as if trying to break me in half on the field during Spring football tryouts my freshman year. They have called me names like punk or chicken, ever since I’ve known them, and whenever they really wanted to hit below the belt, they’d tease me about my momma, and my family’s not-so-secret, family secret. They had been consistently obnoxious ever since that day that momma crept along in the drop-off line in our beat-up, old station wagon that spewed noxious exhaust fumes and grey-ish smoke, all the way to the front door of the school, consoling me before cajoling me to not care about what others may say and think, and step out into what would become the worst four years of my young life.

Prior to the big secret, I’d been considered a “good kid” by the older folks in our town, who appeared not to care about our big family secret, and treat me the same as any other kid. For that same amount of time, I’d been told that God had truly blessed me, because he put me with a momma and daddy who raised me right, and took good care of me, and I had also heard from some of the church ladies how I was gonna make it out of this small West Virginia mountain town, and go on to do big things later on in life by making something out of myself. So many of them said that I’d make not only Momma and Daddy proud of me, but also the rest of the folks throughout the small town of Coalton. But life sure does have a funny way of adding twists to your story. What we thought was God smiling on us, must’ve been more like He was laughing at us. Just when it looked like things were looking up for my family, and life was about to get better for not only my family, but for practically everyone in Coalton, Berkshire Mining Company shut down its largest mine in the U.S., which happened to be in our city, and the one which employed my father, leaving a trail of rapid economic decline, and ultimately poverty in its wake. After months of financial strain, and stress on my parents’ marriage, my dad gave what I didn’t know at the time would be his last big effort to keep the family afloat. I was only in fourth grade when all of this took place, and too young to know about life, love, and the stresses of both, and I didn’t recall ever hearing my mom and dad ever arguing or fighting, but I just remembered that things got a little weird around our home after he received a call to go and rejoin his company in Canada on a temporary basis to work in his old position due to some staff shortages, and an abundance of work. Not long after he left, I noticed that my uncle Harold started to come around to help out a little around the house, as I was told by my mom. I was sure that it was because my dad was going to be gone for a while as he worked to try and get the family back up on its feet. But even as a child, I wondered why my dad would leave, knowing that mom was pregnant. That became quite evident a couple of months after he left, when her appearance started to change. How nice and thoughtful of uncle Harold to come by every now and again to help out, I thought. I guess that marital strife was like some sort of potent, airborne virus that ruled the air, because shortly after the visits from Uncle Harold started, nasty rumors had started circulating around town that he and Aunt Kathrine were getting a divorce, and my mom was at the center of it all. I couldn’t understand how Aunt Kat could be so selfish by being so angry at a man who was as nice, and genuine as Uncle Harold. I mean, he was only helping out his brother by taking care of his family in his absence. Right? The truth is; How naive of me to even think that it’s ever okay for a man to come over to another man’s house to so-called, “Help his wife out.”

I guess that is where the real trouble for me began, and when my family’s big secret was exposed. By the time that I’d gotten to high school, my family’s story, or history was the hot topic of this small, former mining town. When I stepped out of that raggedy station wagon, and began my walk of shame toward the front door of that school, people had already heard my family’s history, replete with everything that had taken place within the love triangle between my mom, my dad, and my uncle. They were just waiting to put a face with the now ruined family name. The cherry on top of this messy life’s cake, was the discovery, and fact that the child that my mother brought into the world was not my father’s child, but instead, my uncle’s child, which makes him my…. Brother - Cousin? Either way, the stress of it all, literally drove Momma insane. That’s why I’m on this mission to do what I’ve got to do to erase the stain from my family's name. I'm tired of being referred to as I’m tired of being the one to go along to get as "That Isbell Boy," or always having to bite my tongue, and remain quiet so no one will look at me as "strange." From now on, I’m doing it BIG! I’m speaking my mind whenever I feel the need to. I'm doing things my way. No longer will I allow myself to be the but of everybody’s joke.

Before embarking on this journey, I went by the asylum to ask my mom for her forgiveness for not becoming a better person, and for leaving her here in this hollow, shell of a town. I also filled her in on what I was about to do. I nearly broke down, when I confessed to her that I came by to see her because I know in my heart that I’m going to be away for a long, long time after I stepped off of this bus, when I got to my destination.

Up to that point, the trip had been somewhat okay, but the closer we got to the destination, the more nervous, and anxious I got with anticipation. I began to question my decision to even do what I did. Why was I sitting on a bus waiting to do something that I’d never even come remotely close to ever doing before? This wasn’t me. What did I have to prove? Why was I about to do something that could get me killed, just to try and prove to a bunch of people who couldn’t care any less about me, that I was not afraid of what they thought of me anymore.

I looked down at my watch again to check the time. We still had quite ways to travel before we arrived at the destination. I could feel my heart rate increasing ever so slightly with anticipation with every mile marker sign that the bus passed. I slumped back into the semi-plush, high backed seat and tried as best as I could to get in a nap, but I realized that I couldn’t because the rolling hills, and beautiful greenery was so amazing to watch . This was the first time in my entire life that I’d ever traveled outside of West Virginia. As the bus picked up speed, and the trees began breezing by at a hot clip, I became slightly hypnotized, and finally managed to drift off to sleep. Time escaped me during my brief respite, but I was suddenly awakened, I guess when the driver swerved slightly to avoid an object in the road. I managed to open my eyes just in time to see a sign that read Welcome to North Carolina, and my heart skipped yet another beat. I reached for my jacket, which I was so glad that I didn’t leave behind, like I almost did in my haste to leave the house. The sun had set, and the temperature on the bus, took a dive, and I felt like I was about to freeze to death. We traveled for another couple of miles, and my heart skipped another beat, we passed another mile marker, and a sign that let us know that we are just 77 miles from the city of Charlotte. I didn’t care how sleepy I was, I had to stay awake to see that place. I’ve heard so much about the Queen City, and I made sure that I put that on my bucket list as a destination, if I made it out of this alive.

Somehow, I managed to fall asleep again, but I was awakened by my iPhone vibrating in the right front pocket of my sweatpants. I pulled it out, and saw that it was my brother / cousin Henry. I guess that he was no doubt trying to be nosy, and hoped to get the details of my possible failure in this quest that I had embarked on. I would have bet any kind of money that he was with the rest of the fellows, and they were probably all dumping money in a pile with their bets all in. Well, had news for them. They would all soon be lining up to kiss my rear end…. If…. I came out on the other side of this venture alive. Another hour passed, and we were traveling through Charlotte. It didn’t disappoint. There it was. The Queen City in all its splendor. I felt a surge of energy go through me as I looked at all of the tall buildings, and lights. It was a bustling metropolis, as far as I was concerned. I knew that there would be others who'd beg to differ, but compared to where I’m from, and all of the things that I’d seen, it truly was. I seemed like we rode forever, and we were still in Charlotte. I craned my neck all around in all directions trying to catch a glimpse of all that there was to see of Charlotte. The other passengers on the bus looked at me like I was crazy, I’m sure, wondering if I’d been chained to a wall somewhere in a dungeon, and all of a sudden, set free. It was a good thing that the bus wasn't too crowded, and I had a seat to myself.

Finally, I saw the lights of the Queen City fade into the distance. At that point, it was back to the open road and darkness. I settled back down into my seat, and covered myself with my jacket again. The bus had somehow managed to get colder. My window began to fog up, so I surrender ed to the vent that was blowing the frigid air onto it, and I closed my eyes and tried to take another nap. I check ed my watch before I drifted off. Three and a half more hours, and we'd arrive at the destination. Nervousness set in again, and it was hard for me to drift off to sleep. I stared at the silhouette of the passing landscape, and before I knew it, I was down for the count…

The sound of the bus’ engine slowing down woke me up. I tried to look through the condensation on the window, and couldn’t quite make out where we were. The bus made a series of turns after starting down a long, dark road, but I couldn’t make anything out. We rode for a few more quick minutes, and then something finally came into view. I felt that we were about to arrive. I thought to myself, "This is it. I’m about to step into my fate." I couldn’t believe that I slept through the last couple of hours of the ride. I couldn’t believe that I actually made this decision. No turning back now. My fate was definitely sealed. The bus driver stopped at a checkpoint, and was soon waved through. My heart rate quickened again, to the point where it felt like I might have a heart attack. I surely thought that I was about to pass out. I began questioning this entire decision. Why was I even there? I know that I wanted to leave Coalton, but I was no longer sure if this is the way to do it. Why couldn’t I just be satisfied with the kid from West Street being made a Knight? Why did I always worry about what others thought of me? I wanted to cuss, but I didn’t, because I didn’t want to draw any more attention to myself than I probably already had. But I was definitely thinking, "Eff the Pride!" in my mind. This wasn’t about them. This was about me! So here go nothing..

The bus rolled to a gentle stop, and the driver turned on the overhead lights. I looked through the condensation on the cold glass, and I saw a tall, muscular man in uniform approach the bus. This was it. There was definitely no turning back at that point. It was do or die. The driver opened the door, letting the strange man step on the bus, and my life changed forever as soon as the man opened his mouth and yelled….

“You are now at Marine Corps Receiving Company 356! From now on, the first and last words out of your filthy mouths will be Sir! Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir!”

I guess that he must’ve seen the look of terror on my face, because he lit right into me.

“What’s your name, recruit?” He interrogated.

”Who, me Sir?” I asked stupidly.

”No! Your alter-ego!” He retorted sharply. “Yes, You!”

”Uh, Isbell.”

“What!”

”Danny Isbell, Sir!”

”Do I know you from somewhere Recruit Isbell!” He asked, yelling. “Do you think I’m cute or something!”

”Uh, No Sir.”

”Well then, GET YOUR NASTY LITTLE EYEBALLS OFF OF ME!!”

”Yes Sir!” I said with everything I had within me.

“That goes for all of you maggots! Lock your bodies up, and don’t move until I tell you to. Now when I give you the command, you’re gonna grab your gear, and hustle off this bus quickly, and in an orderly fashion, and place your feet on my yellow foot markers out there on that sidewalk, do you understand!”

“Yes Sir!”

“When I say move, you better get to my daggon yellow feet, do you understand!”

“Yes Sir!”

“Move! Move! Move!”

And the rest is history….