New Year Bravery

I’m gonna do it! Now, before I change my mind.

For some time, I have thought about publishing a short story collection, but when it comes to my short stories and my poetry, I get self conscious and weird.

Now, on the first day of a new year, I thought that maybe all I need to do to get started is to share one of them with the world—to get it over with. So, I’ll post it here. Now. And I’m actually sweating, right now. I’m not even sure if this will be the final version—haven’t read it in a while and I don’t dare reading it now, as I know that’s a sure way not to go through with this. But here it is. (Please forgive the formatting. I don’t know how to do it well on here and I just want to get this done.)

What brave (by your own standard) new thing will you do this year?

A Red Cap

Red tie and grey suit with a vest; he looks smashing and he knows it. He presses the button to open the doors leading to his kingdom and they separate before him with a loud poof. He steps inside and closes the doors behind him. The morning is full of promise and he sits down and takes off his jacket, now showing off his white newly ironed shirt and more of the vest. Showtime!

He clears his throat and opens the doors. Poof. He smiles broadly at the three youngsters coming inside all at once. ‘Good morning.’ One of them wears a really cool red cap. He has to remember that one; his own son would look great in a cap like that. The boys pass him as if he doesn’t exist, chatting uninterruptedly about smartphones. Ah, those kids. He shakes his head and smiles to himself.

07:19. Time for departure: 07:20. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0. He pushes the button that closes the doors—poof—, rotates the wheel 25 degrees and drives out onto the road. The weather is lovely. The sun, shining through the soft raindrops, is forming multicoloured patterns on the dashboard and the clouds remind him of the cotton candy almost completely concealing his son from sight last year at the amusement park.

Hahaha. Funny how the lights are always red when he arrives at this particular spot. Exciting city, this. So much to do. So many opportunities. Convenience. All these roads leading somewhere, for the comfort of the myriad of people all around him in vehicles and on sidewalks to go wherever they want to go. From A to B. Or perhaps from R to S. Hahaha.

Just in time for Althea. The little lady must be at least a hundred and she always wears a fresh flower in her hat, winter, spring, summer and fall. He knows that her name is Althea since she told him once. She’s very nice and they chat almost every day. Her husband is in a retirement home and she goes to see him every day except on Thursdays which is laundry day. Poof. ‘Good morning.’ He smiles at her and she smiles back. ‘Good morning,’ she says. She always pays cash because she doesn’t trust electronic cards in any form. She once showed him her library card. It was from 1984 and she had absolutely refused to exchange it for a modern one, to the librarian’s great annoyance. That was funny. She seats herself in chatting position and waits for the other passengers to walk past.

‘Good morning.’ ‘Good morning.’ ‘Good morning.’ Good morning.’

‘Hi.’ There, he got an answer! A young man, clearly the customer of a tattoo artist with an obvious penchant for doodling, nods at him.

He smiles. ‘Good morning.’ ‘Good morning.’ 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0. Poof. Departure.

‘Can you believe the weather?’ says Althea. ‘It’s raining cats and dogs.’

He turns to her for a milli second and smiles. ‘It certainly is,’ he agrees. Oh, so much traffic. There’s a tiny chance he won’t make it to the next stop on time, so he accelerates just a bit.

‘Missy did the cutest thing this morning…’ Ah, that cat of hers. He stops listening. Missy was sure to have jumped or stretched or eaten her food in an especially cute way and he produces an “oh” or a fake laugh at appropriate intervals. Ooo, I’m getting grumpy, he smiles to himself. Let’s see, next break at—he consults his schedule, taped onto the dashboard—ten thirty. Hmm, that won’t do. Maybe if he hurries to…? No, he’d never make it.

He frowns slightly at the memory of last night. If only he had been able to sleep at all, he wouldn’t be in this pickle. Now he’s completely out of sync. Damn. Ooo, really grumpy. He frowns again. Maybe no one will notice. Nah, Althea will and she will stay on for another twenty minutes. The bitch. She ruins everything. No, not Althea, she’s really sweet. But boring. Oh, so boring. Poof. He hates that sound. No one with a card, no one with change. He’s running out of change. How the hell could anyone prevent a father from seeing his own child? Poof. He’s early, but he really doesn’t care and secretly enjoys the power his line of work provides him with when he leaves a running would be passenger behind.

‘…and then she stretched to her full length. She’s just so cute, and—’

‘Oh, shut up! Can’t you talk about anything but the weather and your fucking cat?’ Did he actually say that out loud? He must have, because she’s quiet now. He grinds his teeth. Okay, that’s it, it has to be now. He fumbles with one hand in his jacket pocket, then the other pocket. Changing hands on the wheel, he tries another one. There. Steering with his knees, he opens the pillbox. Car from out of nowhere! His hands fly to the wheel and steers the bus out of danger. How the hell do people drive these days?

Luckily, he has managed to catch the box and some escaped pills in his lap. Back to steering with his knees, he manages to put a pill in his mouth, starts to assemble the escaped pills in his lap and puts them into the box again. The fucking bitch. How could she do this to him? Not a responsible dad, my ass. He paid for everything, didn’t he, and took him on all these trips. He only hit him once…or maybe a few times…doesn’t matter. The kid had been really messy—one of his work shirts ruined forever. He could never hurt his kid. He loves him. And he is not a screw-up dad! Car! Again, his hands dive for the steering wheel, but this time, the pills are all over the floor. He dives to the floor, eagerly gathering pills.

Strangely, he doesn’t feel the crash. It’s the sound of shattered glass that tips him off and he slowly rises to his feet, his legs are a bit shaky, but otherwise he’s fine. Althea is no longer in the bus. There she is. She looks a bit funny, lying there on the asphalt with her legs pointing everywhere and a daisy next to her face. Hahaha. He takes a stroll towards the back of the bus. No one is moving. Ah, there’s the guy with the red cap. This was really meant to be. He takes the cap. It would look really great on his own kid. Hahaha.