No ‘Moore’ Mess- Chapter Ten (Serial Version)
Chapter Ten- Mary Moore Meets Georgia On The Bus
Helen called Mary, but the phone number was disconnected. Helen could have made more effort to track Mary down. It didn’t matter as Mary was hundreds of miles away from the town,
While family and friends were saying their final goodbyes to Pastor Andrew, Mary was on an old, broken-down bus travelling across the county. She wondered if the old bus would get her where she wanted to go, not that she knew where the bus or her life was going.
“Why is it so hard for people to find happiness?”
“Maybe because people are too loud on a bus. Hmm?”
“Sorry about that. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”
Mary didn’t realize she said it out loud. The older-looking woman adjusted her gold-striped tie and pushed his dark blue glasses on her long nose. She had salt and pepper-colored hair. The lady coughed for a moment, and she reached in her backpack for a bottle of water.
“Shoot! It’s empty.”
Mary reached in her brown satchel and pulled an unopened bottle of water. She wiped the bottle with her hand, and she tossed it to the woman. She missed it, but by some miracle it fell right in her lap.
“Here you go.”
“Thank you. The air gets awfully dry on these busses, doesn’t it?”
“Sure does. It’s no problem. I had an extra one.”
The woman looked in her bag, and she pulled out some vanilla wafer cookies. She gave Mary a couple, and she ate one. The woman turned to Mary and she smiled.
“My name’s Georgia. Georgia Oliva Denning.”
“Mary Neeley. Sorry, Mary Moore.”
Mary could never stop saying her former married name after all these years. Georgia was pleasant to talk to for some reason. There was a gentleness about her. She reminded Mary of the good times with Jackie, Helen, and the other women in her life.
“Where are you headed, Mary?”
“I don’t really know. West. I guess.”
“Where West?”
Mary didn’t respond. She squirmed in her narrow bus seat. Mary had no plan. Georgia could have pushed the issue. But she didn’t. Mary admired her social skills.
Twenty minutes later the bus pulled in a rest stop. The driver reported the bus needed some repairs. Everyone was stuck at the rest stop for the next two hours.
“That’s great. Now what?”
“You don’t know where you are headed? But surely, you have to eat no matter where you are going, shall we?”
“Sounds great.”
Georgia stepped to the counter. She read the plastic menu.
“What do you want, Mary?”
“I don’t care. Surprise me.”
“We’ll have two fish and some bread for the road.”
“How many?”
“Four loaves, please.”
Mary and Georgia spent the next two hours chatting. They spoke about their lives, but Georgia was more interested in Mary’s life story. It was difficult for Mary to talk to strangers.
She didn’t trust new people any further than she could throw them, but there was something different about Georgia. By the time the bus was ready to go, Georgia learned everything there was to know about Mary. The tales of her life saddened Georgia.
“That’s quite a tale you have there, Mary.”
“To be sure.”
The bus pulled out of the parking lot as the pair chatted. Mary realized she learned little about Georgia. She could not help but pry into her life. She was nosey growing up as a child and no less so as an adult.
“What exactly do you do?”
Georgia laughed. She sat in her seat and she tossed another vanilla wafer cookie into her mouth. She shook her head, and she took a sip of water before she spoke.
“My job’s complicated.”
It was clear Georgia was not giving anything specific about her job. She mentioned it was human relations-related. She was curious about Georgia’s life. Once more Mary tried to get something more personal out of Georgia.
“Are you married?”
“No.”
“Kids?”
“I have many children.”
“Do you talk to them often?”
“Some of them. But others no.”
“They must miss you.”
“I used to think so. But these days they neglect me.”
“But you’re their mother?”
“It happens, you know?”
“People get busy with their own lives.”
Mary knew how mothers and children lose touch. Her relationship with Roberta was proof. Georgia turned the discussion to Mary’s life.
“You see your family a lot?”
“It’s been years.”
Mary’s shoulders sank as tears fell from her eyes. Georgia pulled a green and white handkerchief from her suit jacket. She placed it in Mary’s trembling hands.
“Here, take it. It looks like you need this more than I do.”
“Thanks.”
Mary fell asleep on the bus as she detailed her relationships with Pastor Andrew, Helen, and the other struggles in her life. She leaned to Georgia and put her head on her chest. Georgia pulled a tattered, green blanket from the seat pocket in front of her, and she put it over Mary.
“Sleep well, my child.”
Over the next few hours the bus travelled several hundred miles and across two states. Mary awoke about 5 a.m. She found Georgia looking at her. But she was unafraid.
“Don’t you ever sleep?”
“No. But I do rest on Sundays.”
Georgia laughed as he looked out the window. There was a change in her face. This concerned Mary.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s just time for me to be going soon.”
“I’d like to get to know you better, if you know what I mean?”
Georgia shook her head, “no.”. She peered out the window of the bus. Mary wondered if Georgia was offended by her forwardness. But she was not.
“Mary I’m who you are looking for but not what you need in your life.”
This confused Mary. She knew Georgia for a brief time, but she was the ideal woman. Mary wanted to extend the conversation, but she was interrupted when the bus skidded to the left of the highway. There was a loud popping sound. The bus driver gave an ominous warning.
“Hold on! We are going to crash!”
The next thing Mary recalled was holding on for dear life as the old bus plunged into the lower embankment off Highway 81 and slid on its side. People hurled out of the bus. Mary’s new friend was nowhere to be found.
“Georgia? Where are you?”
Mary could not find her as she dragged herself out of her broken seat. There were several injured people. They howled to Mary for help, but she was no doctor.
“I can’t feel my legs.”
“Oh God! Where’s my baby?”
“My head, please I’m bleeding. Please, help me!”
Mary found the driver dead in the front seat of the bus. She reached around his warm body, and she used his cell phone to call for help. Mary slithered out of the broken front window, and she yelled for her friend.
“Georgia, can you hear me?”
Mary heard nothing. She walked several feet and cried out once more. She hoped for a reply. And she got one.
“Georgia, are you okay?”
“Mary, I’m over here.”
The voice was muffled, but it was Georgia. Mary followed Georgia’s faint whispers down a steep hill. She spotted her in a bloody mess. A long metal pole impaled her.
“Oh, Georgia.”
“Don’t worry, Mary, I’ll be okay.”
Mary knew that was not true. She put on a brave face. Georgia’s breathing was labored and shallow. It would not be long before she died.
“Mary, I want you to promise me something.”
“Sure. Anything. Just name it.”
Georgia struggled for a breath. Her shoulders slumped as she gasped. She looked at her shoes.
“Forgive yourself. And forgive your family. You and they need each other more than you know. Go back to them. For me, please.”
Georgia looked at the starry sky and groaned. Mary agreed, and they prayed.
“Okay, I’ll go back. Promise.”
“Amen.”
“And amen.”
Georgia’s life was no more. The police and ambulance arrived at the scene 30 minutes later. All told, 13 people died in the accident and 25 were injured including Mary. She had a painful bump on the back of her head. It left her with a headache for the next week. Mary would be okay, but one passenger the police never found, Georgia.
There was no trace of the woman. Mary was the only person who reported seeing her on the bus. The police figured the bump on Mary’s head caused her to hallucinate. But Mary protested.
“I know who I saw. We talked for hours. She was there. I’m not crazy.”
“I know who you think you saw. There is no sign of her on any security video. I can tell you only by the grace of God are you still alive.”
Mary bought a ticket for a bus headed east. The ride was long. She met several passengers, but nobody related with her like Georgia had in such a short time. Four days and several thousand miles later, the old bus stopped at Mary’s final destination.
Mary took a long taxi ride to her childhood home. She got lost in her thoughts as she recalled her younger days. It was only the morning show babble on the taxi’s FM radio stopped her from zoning out.
Mary paid the fare, and she walked up those same old, grey broken front porch steps. Mary knocked on the door. A voice from behind the screen made it clear visitors were not welcome.
“We don’t need no freaking magazines. Oh, who are you?”
The elderly woman wearing an oxygen mask was not pleased to see a stranger. She gave Mary a scowl as she closed the door. Mary put her foot in the door to keep it ajar.
“Please, wait, I’m Mary Moore. I’m looking for Pastor Andrew.”
“Him? He hasn’t lived here in ages.”
“I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
“He sold this old house to us years ago. He moved in with a daughter, Helga, I think.”
“Helen.”
“That’s it.”
“Thanks. I’ll look him up there.”
Mary turned to leave, but the old woman reached out and grabbed her by the arm. Mary nearly fell to the ground. The old woman put down her oxygen mask as she pulled a cigarette from her pocket.
“You don’t have to be in a big rush, dear. He’s not going anywhere.”
“Why’s that?”
“Dear, he’s dead.”
Mary stumbled and fell down those old, grey broken stairs. She landed flat on her back with her legs spread wide open in the air for the world to see. Mary collected herself, and she stood.
“Dead?”
“Croaked weeks ago. Saw it in the local newspaper.”
“I didn’t know, thanks.”
Mary left her old house, and she wandered downtown. She found a long-term stay hotel. The desk clerk was nowhere to be found. Mary pulled out her wallet and rang the service bell. A young man came from the back.
“Sorry about that. Dang rats again. How long are you staying?”
“I don’t know. Does it really matter?”
“No. But we offer specials for people who pay in advance or who stay longer than the rats.”
“At least a week. Maybe longer.”
The hotel clerk handed Mary her room key. Mary plunked change in the dust-covered vending machine in the lobby. She pulled out a stale ham and cheese sandwich and got a cup of hot, black coffee.
Mary went to her room. She flung her bag on the bed. Mary took a lukewarm shower. She gazed in the broken mirror in the bathroom as she untangled her long brown hair with a broken comb.
“He’s dead. Pastor Andrew is gone.”
Mary regretted promising Georgia she would try to fix things with her family. She sat on her bed as she flipped through the channels. It was hopeless.
“Go back to what? To who?”
She had no idea. Roberta was dead, Pastor Andrew too. Helen wrote her off years ago, but Mary was going to visit Helen. They were still sisters.
The next day was Saturday. She didn’t know if Helen was home. It took Mary two hours by train to get to Helen’s neighborhood.
Mary missed the station after she fell asleep. It was noon by the time she pushed the round, purple doorbell on Helen’s beige-colored front door.
“Hello, Nancy.”
Helen paused at the door with a stunned look on her face. She was waiting for someone else. Helen was disappointed. And so was Mary.
“It’s you.”
Helen slammed the door right in Mary’s face. Mary considered leaving, but she didn’t want to break her promise to Georgia. She pounded on the front door. But it didn’t open.
“Please, Helen. Five minutes. I need five minutes.”
Mary waited for several seconds. Helen was never going to answer. From behind the door, she heard a familiar voice.
“Sis — ter. Your sis — ter, okay?”
Mary heard bits and pieces of Helen and Erica arguing. She knew it was about her presence. And the door opened.
“Come in, Mary.”
“Thank you. And thank you, Erica. You’re the best.”
It was a fortunate thing Erica liked Mary. She knew life was too short to be filled with drama, especially between family members. Erica appreciated being useful for once.
“Mer — ri, WEL-come.”
Erica gave Helen a gentle nudge from behind her back. The two women embraced as sisters for the first time in ages. And they were happy.
