Member-only story
A Bus Symphony
Old Man Walker enters the Dial-A-Ride bus one cautious step at a time on and off a wire mesh platform lift, gripping yellow plastic balance handles. Leaving Black Spartan, his companion and travel gym, for the Driver to secure, OMW triceps dip & lowers into a padded seat.
The Driver, a WrapAround Guide and Conductor, monitors the SafetyChecklist. Every possible moving object must be secured and strapped down throughout transport. Satisfied his cargo is safe, they reach for the shiny silver lever that closes the folding passenger door.
Red Electric Scooter expertly navigates the wire mesh lift at the next stop, commanding the joystick with the left hand and cradling their baby girl in the crook of the right. Their shoes are at least size twelve, and expert, steady hands have shaped their rouged lips and steel-white grey hair.
Bobbin is a grey senior male, his torso bent into a perpetual forward and back bobbing movement. Once he latches his seatbelt, he leans into the movement as if playing the trumpet with utter abandon.
Red Scooter rolls their head and eyes to the side, erupting in a maw of sound meant to be words but sounding more like the deep roll of a Taki Drum.
OMW takes a notebook from his jacket pocket and sketches the musical warmup, pairing the Driver with a saxophone, driving the lonely and beautiful vehicle from destination to destination.
It’s an unlikely trio: Taki Drum, trumpet, and saxophone, with OMW filling in the background of a wooded clearing with a roaring fire at its center. The celebration is ceremonial, with broken notes blending into harmony wrapped by the angelic Baby Girl voice, unexpectedly honest and pure.
