Snow Melt

Going to Pieces

11 Kalimat 164 B.E. – July 23, 2007 at 8:07:50 AM PDT

All you who are going to pieces,
who are unraveling at the seams,
please take a moment to listen
to the voices in your dreams.

All you who are going to pieces
who are falling apart day by day
pull back from the problem
and take a moment to pray.

Singleton stood on the corner of Maryland Parkway and Sahara waiting for the light to change. He saw the Citizens Area Transit bus approaching the stop on Sahara, if he ran across Sahara, dodging the speeding vehicles, he could catch it and would arrive on time for work. He started to step into traffic, but a hand held him back. Turning around to see who had stopped him, he caught a momentary glimpse of unnaturally blue hair, but saw only empty sidewalk behind him. When he turned back to the intersection, the green arrow was on allowing cars to make a left turn off Maryland and onto Sahara.

Rushing to the middle of the intersection, Singleton saw the bus stop and began to unload passengers. Wonderful, he thought watching an unusual amount of traffic turn onto Sahara. I’ll make it after all. The walk signal came on and he ran across the remainder of the intersection, reaching the bus shelter just as the 6:05 a.m. bus pulled out.

“Damn,” he sat down on the metal bench and glared at the passing traffic. “I’ll be late again!”

His life and world were falling to pieces. Kathy had kicked him out of the house on July 1st. Taking the car keys and handing him a 30-day bus pass. He’d taken his suite case to work that day and for three days after until he convinced his brother to let him move in with him. He’d stopped the direct deposit of his paycheck into the joint account, but was told it would take about two months. In the mean time, Kathy had kindly consented to give him $20 a week to eat on.

Looking west on Sahara, he saw a Bank of America branch. Singleton left the bus stop and walked across the street. It didn’t open until 9:00 a.m., but the McDonald’s was open for breakfast. In the fast food restaurant, he ordered a sausage breakfast, with coffee and orange juice. After he finished breakfast, he walk slowly to the bank and waited for it to open.

“I’d like to withdraw $500,” he took out his ID and bankcard. “There should be about $600 in the account.” He passed his card through the card reader and input his pin number.

“Actually,” said the teller. “There is $2,500 in the account.”

“In that case, I’d like $500 in cash and $1,600 in Traveler’s Checks. Take the charge out of what’s left in the account.”

Leaving the bank, he went to the Albertson’s on the corner of Maryland and Sahara, called a cab and went to McCarran Airport. At McCarran, he boarded a plane for Colorado Springs the last place in the world that Kathy or anyone else would look for him.