The Monsters on the Bus

Tapping my foot on the cement sidewalk, I check my watch as I wait at the Manhattan bus stop. It’s a few minutes late now, typical. I squeeze the handle of my suitcase until I’m sure the paint will come off the plastic.

C’mon, c’mon, hurry up.

I look around me, but I’m the only one here waiting. Pedestrians walk past me casually, without so much as a glance. Two o’clock on a Monday at a Manhattan bus stop and it’s only me, ridiculous.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

My phone goes off in my pocket, and I pull it out. Dave wants me to get there fifteen minutes earlier now. I was already going to be late for our original time. “Fuck.”

Rolling my eyes, I stuff it back in my pocket. Then a bus comes headed my way, and I almost smile - almost. It passes on by and goes to another stop. Shaking my head, I think of Jackson, our company dumbass, who just had to piss off our main client and cause this mandatory meeting today.

Because of him, I had to leave my son’s basketball game. The moment it started, of course, that’s when my phone goes off. I turned to Margaret. “I have to go, work’s calling.”

She frowns and her eyebrows raise in concern. “What do you mean? You just got here. This is the first game you’ve been to, and his last one of the season.”

I shrug. “I just have to go. Work is calling me, and I can’t miss it.”

Standing, I feel her lingering eyes on me, begging me to stay. If this were six months ago, she may have argued more, said something else, but what I’m doing is nothing new.

We both know what comes first.

And just like that, I grab my suitcase and head to the bus stop. Looking down at my hand holding the suitcase, my wedding ring glimmers under the sunlight. Our wedding was last year, but we never had a reception. Work is my priority.

That’s the life of a corporate lawyer. That’s the life I choose.

A gust of cold wind blows and my teeth chatter. My phone is going off like crazy, vibrating and dinging. My jaw tightens. “When the fuck is this bus going to come?”

A few passersby stop and look at me, but I could care less about what these broke people think. They don’t have real goals. I glare back at a few of them, and they quickly turn away.

Suddenly, a large travel bus turns and comes toward me. On the side of its body is a banner that reads, ‘Charity Bus’. I shake my head. That can’t be mine. My pass isn’t valid for those types of transit.

Yet, sure enough, it draws and slows to a stop at the sign, its doors right in front of me. Looking around, there’s still no one else here for it.

The doors open and a large man appears inside, wearing a red bandana that covers his face. His bald head seems to be emitting a yellow substance that’s somewhere between ear wax and sweat.

He turns and looks at me. “You headed to Burroughs street?”

“Uh, yeah, I am.”

How the hell does he know my exact stop? He ignores my confused stare and turns back to his windshield. “Get in.”

Grabbing my suitcase, I carry it in and the doors close behind me. Before I can take a seat, the bus churns and takes off. It flies! It actually flies off the ground.

I rush to the window and watch the ground shrink from the growing distance. The people outside don’t even look at the bus taking off.

Turning around, I face the bus driver. “What the hell’s going on here?”

He then presses a button near the dashboard and a thick glass wall falls and separates me from him and the exit. I bang on the glass with my fist. “What are you doing? Is this some kind of sick joke?”

As I knock on the glass over and over again, the driver doesn’t pay any attention to me. I pull my phone out of my pocket, ready to call the cops, but when I dial 9-1-1 there’s no connection. Are they jamming my signal?

Blowing out a breath, I face the rest of the bus. Maybe there are other people here who can tell me what’s going on.

As I stroll along, I notice the back of each seat is tall as a man, making it hard to tell if anyone’s present. I maintain a calm face, as if this is just another stressful day of work, like nothing is wrong.

Then in one of the seats, someone comes into view - or rather, something.

A creature with a bulky body and blue skin appears. His mouth seems forced into a permanent smile as he stares at the next seat in front. He wears a t-shirt that says, ‘Charity Bus’.

Maybe he has some sort of medical condition - or maybe I’ve just entered crazy town. I dismiss the thought as it passes. It isn’t helpful or productive. Besides, I have a meeting to go to...

“Excuse me, sir, but do you know what’s going on here? I have a meeting to go to, and I’ve never been on a flying bus before.”

As the words come out of my mouth, I realize how absurd they sound, so I try to save face. “I know it sounds crazy, but I could really use some direction. Is this bus heading to the Marquardt area?”

The creature doesn’t look at me, doesn’t so much as blink or make any acknowledgment of my existence. He only grins at the bus seat in front of him.

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Hey buddy, can you hear me?” I tap on his shoulder, and he raises a hand and pushes me away. The force knocks me back into the wall of the seat across. “Oof.”

Grimacing, I look back at him.

His expression hasn’t changed. He bears that same stupid grin.

Suddenly, gooseflesh rises up my back and across my arms, and I realize that this ‘thing’ can crush me whenever it wants. I swallow my saliva, and it drags down my throat.

Cautiously, I stand back up without ever taking my eyes off him and walk past. I pass several more vacant seats until I find a woman with burnt purple skin, her mouth wide open and a flow of drool coming out. She sits and stares at the wall, wearing the same shirt as well.

“Um, can you help me?” I quickly look back over my shoulder for the blue creature.

But she doesn’t say anything to me.

She’s no help.

Marching away, I begin pacing through the aisle. I fidget my hands and quicken my pace, thinking of the meeting, wondering what this place is, so many questions forming. Then I raise my voice.“Will someone just give me some fucking answer? Please, I have a meeting to go to.”

No one says anything, not a sound.

All I can do is pace and sit and stand and pace and sit and stand.

Then in a flash of brilliance, everything becomes clear.

I know what all this is.

They’ve kidnapped me, yes, that’s it. They must know the type of people I work with and want something. It’s a hostage situation, plain and simple. The driver must be making calls right now, and I bet that glass is soundproof

It’s so simple.

Granted, the flying bus and the weird costumes threw me off, but I know what this is. Through the glass, I see the back of the driver’s head. Not a sound comes from anyone. A close-lipped smile spreads across my face. I can get out of here. Years of being a lawyer have paid off in more ways than one.

Clearing my throat, I rise and go to the middle of the aisle. “Okay, everyone, the gig’s up. I’ll pay whatever you ask me for. I’m a big-time corporate lawyer. Just name your price and I’ll dish out more than your competitors.”

Waiting in the aisle, I stuff my hands in my pockets and close my eyes coolly.

But not a sound comes from anyone, only slow drips of drool.

My brow furrows, a headache forming, and I bang on the glass of the driver. “Hey, didn’t you hear me? I said I’d pay whatever you wanted, okay? Let me go and we can talk.”

My voice echoes faintly in the quiet bus, but the longer I stand in place here, the more my words feel like empty noise. It no longer matters how formal or informal I am or if I’m charismatic.

“Goddammit!” I punch the glass and my fist immediately throbs.

Taking a seat, I fold my arms in frustration and glare at the heavens up high.

Time passes. Hours drag on by and that meeting is long gone. Except, I didn’t just miss it, I no-call-no-showed it.

What’s funny is even as I sit here trapped, I can't help but think of how pissed Dave is going to be if we lose this client. Who will fix the scheduling for it? I shake my head and try to push such thoughts aside, but they’re of work. They’re my life.

Shifting in my seat, I start to realize how hot it is here. Fresh pockets of sweat form at my armpits and back. My throat is dry from shouting, but I forgot to pack water in my bag.

Undoing my tie and buttons, I take off my suit and white shirt underneath until I’m only wearing a wife-beater. I wipe my forehead and touch a layer of oily sweat.

This is too much.

Clenching my hands into sweaty fists, I stand. “Hey, you, can you get me some fucking water? I’m dying of thirst over here. Are you gonna wait till I die? You fucks will be in some deep shit then.”

I take a deep breath and exhale to fill the silence. Again, no one answers, and my face twitches. “Have any of you ever cleaned out your god damned ears?”

No response, but it doesn’t matter.

I know they won’t give me water, but why have they trapped me up here? Why? What do they want? If it isn’t money, what on earth could it be?

Slumping into my chair, I look at my sweat-soaked black pants and tank top. I can smell my body odor clearly, the cologne long gone. It’s like they’ve turned me into a bum, dissolving who I am as a corporate lawyer.

I might have more cologne in my bag - no, I need to forget about that. What matters isn’t work, but getting out of here alive. They have me trapped on a goddamned flying bus. I need to think of a way out.

Standing on the seat, I catch glances of the male and female creature staring comatose at nothing. The bus driver faces the sky in front of him.

Think, John.

Are the creatures related to each other somehow? What are they and why are they even here? After all, everything is done for some sort of reason, so they must have some sort of plan for me.

I think of the name printed on the side of the vehicle reading, Charity Bus. There are also their t-shirts. What could any of that mean? This place isn’t any sort of charity, it’s a nightmare.

Maybe this is all part of some unethical social experiment by the CIA? It’s far-fetched, but so is a flying bus, and the CIA would have the funds for this kind of a mess. But that still doesn’t really explain anything

What is that blue creature of a man? Why is he so strong? He doesn’t seem human to me, more like an alien. They could both be aliens for all I know.

Thoughts and ideas pass before my mind, each one less rational than the last.

At the same time, I’m burning up

My body bleeds the salty moisture. I hear my heart pounding slow in my ears. My hands are clammy, and I can’t stop fidgeting. As I sit there lost in thought, work comes to mind but then seems like a speck of dust in light of my thirst.

Maybe if I just talk to him again...

I stumble through the aisles and use the seats to keep myself from falling, as I approach the blue creature.

For a moment, I stare at the giant creature in his static state with that big stupid smile.

In a way, I’ve become just like him, mindlessly gazing.

I smile briefly. “You’re not going to let me go, are you.” The words leave my mouth before I truly think them through. “I guess you’re both going to let me die here for no reason. There’s just no purpose to any of this, is there?” My lips tremble into a smile. “This is how I die, on your charity bus, huh.” My chest heaves - and I hiccup of all things.

Dropping to my knees one at a time, I clasp my hands above my head as if in prayer. “You want me to be a beggar, don’t you? Well, fine. Please, just please let me go.”

Tears well in my eyes. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve ever done. I’m sorry for all I’ve ever been. I’ll try to be better. I’ll do anything for another chance. Please, I’m begging you.”

Slow trudging footsteps come from behind me, but I can’t bring myself to shift my gaze from the male creature. In the corner of my eye, the female changes her seat to sit directly across from the male, who shifts his gaze at me.

This is the first time either of them has moved and that my rambling has done anything at all. Fresh warm tears slide down my smiling face, as droplets of sweat land on my tongue. It’s never been so sweet to finally be heard and noticed.

The blue creature then slowly points at me. “Me plan eat you. Stress make human tasty, but I find other human if need to. This charity bus.”

A wad of cold spit lands on the back of my head, and I turn to the female.“We’re generous feeders. Tell us, human, explain why we should let you live?”

Hope gleams in my heart like rays of newborn light. This is my chance, my one and only opportunity to convince them to let me live. I wipe my eyes and sit up straighter. I was born to persuade.

Immediately, two arguments form in my head.

I could tell them how my wife needs me there for love and support. My son Jacob is only nine-years-old and needs guidance as well. What I could do is paint an elaborate sob story and make it a real tear dropper.

Then there’s the argument that makes sense.

What I can do is be tactical. I can appeal to what benefits them. That’s what being a lawyer is all about, after all. It’s just playing people. My work is the most important thing in my life, and this situation is only further proof of why.

I clear my throat. “Thank you, I appreciate your charity very much. I think you’ll find letting me go is in your best interest, without a doubt. You see, you do have me here, but I’m just one person. What you may not know is I have a strong network of over a thousand people.

“I can get you whatever you want and whoever you want, just say the word. I have the money and connections and the know-how, and it can all be yours. If you give me this charity, I will make sure you two get what you want, guaranteed. Now, how’s that sound?”

The two monsters look at each other for a long moment. Then the male turns to me and frowns. “You leave charity bus now.”

Its mouth opens wide and hundreds of teeth protrude out like needles.

“N-no.” I try to run, but the female grabs hold of my arms.

The beast’s mouth grows and grows until it’s longer than my body. It takes its time in swallowing me, encompassing my entire body inside its mouth, the teeth a hair away from my flesh and ready to pierce. The world becomes dark inside the creature's mouth.

Its teeth slowly dig into me as I scream.