Ten Seconds of Crazy

by Randileigh Kennedy

  “Never mind, I’ll get off at the next stop please,” I replied, making my way back to my seat. I quickly pulled up bus information on my phone, hoping I could find some way back the other direction. I would have to change bus carriers, but there was another station within a few miles of the next stop, assuming I had enough cab fare plus the ticket fee to get me there. I reached into my bag, counting out only thirty-seven dollars and some change. I knew I had more money on me before the accident, but I assume it was lost with most everything else we had.

  In the side of my bag, there was a folded piece of paper. I opened it up, smirking when I realized it was the blank check Reid left me at the diner the first day we met. The word ‘freedom’ in the memo line made me smile.

  That was exactly what this check would be used for.

  Knowing I had some time until the bus stopped, I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen to write my mom a note. I didn’t want to wake her from her sleep - she was likely exhausted from her long trip out to see me and her uncomfortable stay at the hospital. Plus it just didn’t seem worth the fight. If she had any intention of talking me out of getting off the bus, I didn’t want to hear it anyway. Though deep down, I figured my mom would understand. She only met Reid briefly, but for her, that would’ve been enough to understand my decision to follow him to Michigan.

  Mom,

  I’ve always been conflicted on whether I was doing something wrong or right. Growing up I was scared to be like you - but also in so many ways I was scared to be different. But one thing I saw in you - you always followed you heart - no matter how crazy or erratic or irrational it seemed. So maybe I’m like you after all. You never showed regret for loving those you loved. Even if it ended in sorrow or disappointment, you continued on - unapologetic - seemingly unaffected as you packed us up and moved us onto the next great adventure. I don’t really know if you ever found even a piece of what you were looking for. But something magical - amazing - wonderful - found me. And I have to believe giving into that is worth it.

  I hope you find the new life you’re looking for. I know whatever it is you want, you’ll find it without me. So I’m heading out on my own to believe in love the way you did - right or wrong - because it’s something I just can’t say no to.

  Maybe this is it for me - my time to be crazy. To say yes to something the sane, rational person I am would otherwise say no to.

  So here’s to following our hearts - and realizing we’re not so different after all.

  And here’s to knowing that’s okay.

  Love,

  Cassidy

  I carefully placed the note on the center of my seat, hopeful she would see it when she woke up so she wouldn’t panic over my disappearance. I walked to the front of the bus and took a seat up close, anxious to get off as soon as the bus stopped.

  I was the only person to get off at the next station. The stop was eerie - a dimly lit concrete building with several ‘caution - wet floor’ signs up. An elderly man at the information desk was kind enough to call me a cab so I could get to a different bus station. That was a quick twelve dollars spent.

  Unfortunately I had four hours to kill before the next eastbound bus left the station. I tried calling Reid a couple more times, but his phone still appeared to be off.

  The new bus station at least appeared to be a little safer looking than the last one - the lighting was still relatively dim, but it was clean and the uncomfortable plastic chairs looked new. I curled up in one, tucking my bag tightly underneath my arm. I threw in my headphones, thankful to have a distraction. All of the songs on my phone - Sam Hunt, Keith Urban - they all sounded like I felt, and I knew more than ever I needed to be back in Reid’s passenger seat. I finally dozed off, lulled by words about heartache and missing someone… that once in a lifetime kind of love. The dreams that played in my head were far better than the ones I had in the hospital.

  I was startled awake by the sound of my phone ringing. My heart jumped, expecting it to be Reid for some reason. Instead it was a photo text from Maria. She was in Carl’s Diner wearing her uniform, sitting next to a handsome older guy with salt and pepper hair and a dreamy smile. The text simply said ‘A handsome stranger found me in the diner too. Third date tonight. Hope you’re as happy as I am.’ I smiled looking at the photo. Her face looked radiant and ecstatic. The guy’s face looked similarly smitten.

  I sent a text back to her. ‘It’s been a crazy ride. Doesn’t look like I’ll be home anytime soon. Glad to see you so happy.’

  I dialed Reid again since I had the phone in my hand, despite the fact that it was five in the morning. I was caught off guard when he actually answered.

  “Good morning,” he said sweetly. “Please tell me this wasn’t an accidental dial.”

  “No,” I admitted. “I’ve been calling you all night. What are you doing?”

  “Eating pizza. Naturally. It’s what people in Iowa do at truck stops at five in the morning,” he teased. “What are you doing?”

  “Missing you,” I said hesitantly. “In a creepy bus terminal. Trying to figure out how to fix this.”

  “Why are you in a bus terminal? I thought you had a one way ticket,” he asked, confused by exactly what I was saying. “Where are you?”

  “Nebraska I think,” I answered, looking around for some sign as to where I was actually at. “I finally read your letter. I couldn’t go any further. I’m turning around.” There was so much I wanted to say to him. So many thoughts and feelings wanted to pour out of my head, but I didn’t know how to organize my words.

  “Stay there. I’ll come for you,” he said with such a warm, sincere tone.

  “It’s a dingy bus stop. I’ll be murdered and stuffed in a bathroom stall before you make it all the way back here,” I joked.

  “Where in Nebraska are you? Can you get to Uncle Buck’s place?” he asked. I could hear Uncle Buck asking a million questions in the background through his phone.

  “I think I’m still a few hours away from his house,” I replied, studying a map posted in the terminal.

  “Well wherever you are, I’ll come for you,” he repeated. “Just like Wesley came for Buttercup,” he said playfully, referencing The Princess Bride.

  “How did you know their names?” I said speculatively, wondering how he just pulled that out.

  “I watched the movie after you left. In the hospital,” he admitted. “I had to see the world from your point of view.” His tone was so endearing and considerate. I felt like an idiot for walking away from a guy like this.

  “When did you leave the hospital?” I asked, surprised he was out.

  “Uncle Buck helped me escape late last night. I wanted to find you, but I knew that was impossible. So he convinced me to wait for you to find me.”

  “Well I’m trying,” I said with a slight laugh. “There’s a bus leaving here in about an hour.”

  “Maybe we can head back that direction? Meet you somewhere in the middle?” he suggested.

  “You’re in the GTO, aren’t you? It only has two seats,” I explained.

  “Uncle Buck says he’s willing to hitchhike the rest of the way,” Reid said jovially.

  “I know you needed to be at the cottage by the Fourth of July for your road trip, right?” I remembered. It was the last thing on his list. Reid originally thought he would have days to spare, but our stint in the hospital sucked up that extra time. “It’s already the third this morning. So just keep going and I’ll see you there. I can make it to the address you gave me in your letter. I don’t need you to miss that. You’ve missed out on enough because of me,” I said seriously.

  “Just the opposite,” he responded genuinely. “Nothing about this trip was ruined until you left.”

  “So you’re finally admitting that I did in fact ruin at least something,” I teased, trying to keep the conversation light. “If you give me the chance, I’d love to make it up to you.”

  “Dammit, you make me crazy,” he responded with an animated tone
to his voice. “I miss you. Fiercely. Just get to Michigan, any way you can. Just come back to me.”

  “One more thing,” I said hesitantly. “Your bank account may be cleared out today. Is that also completely forgivable in your eyes?”

  “What exactly did you do?” he asked skeptically, sounding intrigued as to what that really meant. He didn’t sound worried, but definitely curious.

  “Well I don’t exactly have enough money for the bus ticket. All I have on me now is twenty-five bucks and a blank check from you. The one from the diner.” I waited for him to reply.

  “So… you gave my blank check away for a bus ticket?” he asked nervously.

  “No, I’m not an idiot,” I retorted. I at least knew better than that. “The cashier window isn’t even open yet, but I’m hoping I can sign the check over to them for the amount of the bus ticket - maybe even a little more if the guy needs some kind of incentive fee out of it to make the transaction. I hope you’re not mad. I’m just not sure what else to do. Nothing’s open this early, so I can’t exactly just head to a bank.”

  “How can I be mad at that?” he replied with a laugh. “A junkie took me for a thousand bucks. A bus ticket is what, a couple hundred dollars? You are beyond worth it, Cassidy. Whatever the cost.”

  “The ticket alone is two hundred and forty dollars,” I confessed. “That’s a little steep. But I swear I’ll pay you back.”

  “Only with a girl like you would I be having this conversation,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t care what it costs, Cass. Just get here.”

  “Nineteen stops, one transfer, and a four hour layover in Chicago,” I explained, “and I’ll be there in less than twenty-four hours.”

  “Send your arrival information and I’ll pick you up at the bus stop,” he said sincerely. “I want to see you the second you get there.”

  “See you soon,” I said, preparing to hang up.

  “Cassidy,” he replied, making me pause. “I meant everything I said in that letter.”

  “I know,” I answered genuinely. “And once our beginning really beings, I’ll give you my reply.”

  CHAPTER 24

  As soon as the bus cashier window opened about thirty minutes prior to my boarding time, I eagerly stepped up to the older gentleman behind the glass.

  “Good morning, sir, Earl,” I read off of his name tag. “I’m in a bit of a pickle and I hope you can help me out,” I said honestly. I hoped he was feeling sympathetic this morning. “I really need to get to Michigan, but I only have twenty-five in cash on me until I get there. But I have a blank check,” I explained, pulling the paper out of my bag.

  “Ma’am, I’d love to help you out, but I can’t take a check here,” he said coldly.

  “Well maybe I could make it out to you, and you could front the money?” I suggested as nicely as I could.

  “I’m not a bank teller ma’am, I’ve heard it all up here,” he continued, still shooting down my idea.

  “What if I make it out for fifty bucks higher than the bus fare? To thank you for your help and generosity?” I continued. I didn’t want to sound like I was begging, but I desperately needed this to work.

  “I can’t do anything for you sweetheart,” he said with an eye roll. “There’s a bank around the corner.”

  “Yeah, but they don’t open until eight, and the bus leaves at six,” I pleaded. “I really need to get on this one.”

  “Well then you’ll really need to figure something else out,” he said dryly. “There are some other people behind you needing to purchase a ticket, ma’am.”

  I looked behind me and he was right. There were two other people in line, neither of them looking too happy or eager to help me out.

  My head throbbed and I needed some fresh air. I stepped outside, knowing I would need to think of something quick. I pulled one of my prescription bottles out of my purse, quickly swallowing two pain pills to ease my discomfort. My stress at the moment wasn’t helping my head injury.

  “Hey, whatcha got there,” a tired looking guy in a flannel shirt asked, looking up at me from his leaning position against the outside glass windows of the bus station.

  “I uh, I was in a car accident,” I replied, pointing to my wrist and the stitches alongside my temple. He looked too stoned to be dangerous, but I still didn’t want to get too close to him.

  “What kinds of pills you got there?” he asked, gesturing towards my purse.

  “Oh, I, those are from the hospital,” I said, still not picking up on what he was getting at.

  “Mind if I have a few? I gots plenty of pain,” he said with a sleazy smirk.

  “I, uh,” I stammered, feeling extremely uncomfortable by this encounter. “I can’t get to Michigan, and I need to find a bank.” I probably sounded as incoherent as he did.

  “You don’t need a bank. You got an ATM in that purse, lady,” he said, still grinning at me. “How much you want for it?” he asked directly.

  “For my purse? Why would I sell my purse?” I said naively, not understanding why some forty year old bum wanted a woman’s purse.

  “The pills, man. How many pills you got and what do you want for them?” he clarified.

  Oh. Great. He saw me as a potential drug dealer.

  “Oh no, sorry, I don’t think that’s allowed,” I said awkwardly. “I mean they’re prescribed to me, I don’t think I can…”

  “Lady, are you trying to get a bus ticket or not?” he inquired, pointing inside to the bus counter where he must’ve seen me standing just minutes earlier.

  Gah. This did not register well on my moral compass.

  “I really don’t feel comfortable with this,” I said honestly, feeling completely torn. I so desperately wanted to get on the bus, but like this?

  “Look lady, you ain’t no criminal. I get that. But we both have something each other wants, right? It’s just a business transaction,” he slurred. “How much is your bus ticket?”

  “Um, two hundred and forty dollars,” I stammered. Like I even knew the going rate for street drugs anyway. There was no way this guy in front of me actually had cash on him. He looked like he didn’t even have a place to shower.

  “I got two hundred and fifty right here,” he said pulling out a wad of cash. At first I felt bad for judging him - for immediately assuming he was broke. Ironically I was the broke one, just in cleaner clothes. What was he doing with that kind of cash anyway?

  “I don’t even know what I have, it’s like Percocet, Dilaudid,” I probably mispronounced. “Are those even any good? I have, let’s see, four different bottles…” I continued, my voice trailing off as I rummaged through my purse. The prescription bottles were inside a small white bag from the hospital. I hadn’t taken any pills at all since my discharge from there, until this moment. “There should be like, let’s see, one hundred and forty pills total or something, actually, minus two,” I said, trying to do math in my head.

  “Just give me the bag, I’ll give you the money,” he said, nodding at me.

  “What? No, I don’t know, I don’t feel right about that,” I replied, looking around. No one else was outside, especially this early in the morning. It didn’t appear anyone inside the bus terminal was looking out at us either, but it still didn’t feel right. “I’m sorry, I just….” I was so frustrated in that moment, completely torn on what to do.

  “This doesn’t have to be a big deal,” he said, closing his eyes with his hand. “Look, I have no idea what you even look like. You don’t know me, I don’t know you. That means this isn’t really happening.” He held the money out towards me.

  I wished so badly I could see it his way - that childlike notion that something could really be invisible simply because your eyes were closed. Like it didn’t exist just because someone wasn’t looking.

  Seconds later, a big white and red bus pulled around the opposite side of the building, and I knew that was likely my bus. Dammit.

  Ten seconds. I knew this was in no way what Reid instilled i
n me. This was in no way the right thing to do, or something good in any way. But the urge in me to get on the bus outweighed my integrity at the moment. I knew I would feel awful about this, forever. But in that ten seconds of panic, with this dirty stranger standing before me, holding out a rolled handful of money, I did it. I flung the bag from my purse onto the ground, as if the mere act of not actually handing it over to him made the situation any more righteous.

  I quickly grabbed the money out of his hand and made my way back into the bus station, thankful no one seemed to even look up at me when I entered. The throbbing in my head intensified, and my nerves felt on fire. I pushed those thoughts back and walked directly to the cashier, reaching out the money in my hand. “Ticket to Michigan, please,” I stated, trying to steady my voice.

  “You found a bank open this early?” he said dryly. I wasn’t sure if he was just making conversation, or if he was accusing me in some way. All I knew is that I wanted to get on that bus and pretend like the last five minutes of my life never happened.

  He took the money from me and handed me a white, paper ticket. Three minutes later I was climbing on the bus, making my way to the back, ashamed. There was now one more thing in my life I had to beat myself up over.

  The bus pulled out of the station, and I finally felt some small sense of calm. My body ached, and all I wanted was to rest and forget about the choice I just made.

  I dozed in and out, thankful that I took the pain pills back at the station. My body felt relaxed and far less uncomfortable than I had when I first got on board. The ride felt longer and far more grueling that I expected it to be. In theory, it shouldn’t have been an exhausting thing at all - you’re literally just sitting in a moving seat for hours on end. But with little to do, time seemed to be moving as quickly as a buffering video clip - you know it has to get there, minutes have to pass - but somehow those minutes seem infinitely longer than sixty seconds apiece.