One Long Walk

The Long Walk Home
It was nearly eight and the bus wasn't moving any faster; it continued that dull rumble as it followed its route through the streets. I sat in the back, a little to the right so that I could see where the bus was going and, being one of three people riding, I had propped my feet up on the railing of the seat. It was already dark and the streets I had walked on foot hours earlier were alien under the streetlights. They looked the same, had the same shops and stores, but that was all. Reaching up with one hand, I undid the buttons of my collar while my other hand wiped at my face. I could feel the sweat now half dried, plastered on, giving my skin a sickly feel which only contributed to the miserable feeling caused by an empty stomach. In full recline, I closed my eyes, trying to cut off the glare of the fluorescent lighting.
I had been out for most of the day, since 3:00 PM. With money getting short in my house, it had come down to me getting a job or not eating. My mother never considered that it was my decision to make, and I had already decided I didn’t have the money to pay $2.15 cents for lunch and I had kept five days of my lunch money. I called it my “Job Looking” money, but it often spent more time getting handed out for any random thing I wanted at the time. Living on a budget was honestly the most terrible thing I had ever had to deal with in my life.
“Oy.” Something grabbed my shoulder and I sat up, rubbing at my eyes, confused and a little angry, “Wake up, kid. This is last stop.” It wasn’t anyone I had seen before; he was just another guy that until now had just been part of the scenery and little more. He had the classic cut with his hair combed back and the rather large moustache growing just above his upper lip.
The words struck a little odd and I thought about them before understanding hit me. “Wait, what?” I reached for my pocket, but remembered that since I hadn’t paid the bill for two weeks I had left my cell at home. “Uh, thank you,” I said, hurriedly getting up. The doors in the front and middle of the bus opened, but I had no intention of leaving just yet. So I marched to the front of the bus.
At the front of the bus was the picture of a man smiling, real cheery like. As fake as it was, it looked like he was just scared (as though someone had a gun just out of the picture with a smile to match). Next to the picture, in bright yellow letters, I read the words, “Smile. For your safety, this bus has been equipped with audio and video recording.” The driver saw me coming, and he checked the mirror several times. Clearly, he just wanted to go home after a day of ferrying people by the dozens day in and out.
“Uh, Excuse.” I hated this. Walking up to someone I didn’t know had always put a cold feeling in my stomach; it wasn’t fear, just a nervous agitation that would not abate “Where are we right now?”
“Central Blvd.”
Sighing, I thanked him. The cold feeling in my stomach prevented me from asking if he could take me back the way he had come, which had always been my intention until a few second earlier. Getting onto the sidewalk, I watched the bus roll off, and when it was out of sight, I turned and headed south along the only street I knew well. At most, I was six miles from my house. For anyone else, that would have been heart breaking. For me, it was just plain annoying. I had walked it before. With the traffic and my dislike of crossing major streets, already having been grazed by a car in the past, it would take a little more than four hours.
Now I was in Nestlé’s neighborhood. Everyone has enemies and I had mine. Of course Nestle` went out of his way to make enemies of nearly everyone he met. People always wanted to start a fight and, if I was recognized, they would call Nestle`. Ever since I had knocked out two of Nestlé’s teeth in the eighth grade, he had been talking about “running up” on me. Over the course of the year, I doggedly avoided him before I was told that Nestle` had been in juvenile detention for six months. Parents should not be allowed to name their children; Nestle` is a testament to that. I have no idea what kind of parents named their kid after a chocolate bar, but the name still made me laugh.
Outside it was the dead of winter, but the heat of day hadn’t quite left. That was something to be thankful for because I was wearing only a gray shirt, white undershirt, jeans and a pair of brown work boots I had owned for nearly five years. Popping my collar to cover my neck from the biting wind, I dug my hands into my pockets to protect them from the worst of the cold. I started the long trek down the street littered with shops; neon and fluorescent lighting illuminated them. Up above was the Holiday Inn sign reading out the latest time: 9:18.
Most people feared going out in the middle of the night alone, but not me. What other people feared was getting robbed, being beaten for being in the wrong place by some nameless thug. But I looked like one (and tried to as well); it had always kept me out of any real trouble except when someone from up town spotted me and asked anything from “You know where I can get some fun around here?” to “ You seen J? I have been looking for that boy day n night.” I always told them the same instructions that led exactly nowhere. And then with a crooked grin, I always left quickly, but not too quickly.
I passed by a Chinese restaurant before moving in reverse to get a better look through the glass door. I decided to ask about a job, might as well make the best of walking. I wiped my face, got my clothes in order, and ran a comb through my hair. I went in, my presence announced by the cheap doorbell. The man at the counter didn’t acknowledge me until I was at the counter. “Excuse me. Are you hir….?” I didn’t so much as get a full set of words out before he just waved his hands and shook his head. Not even the standard, “Please fill out an application.” Leaving and returning my clothes to their standard and comfortable unkempt appearance, I went over an old suspicion of mine: Chinese restaurants only hire Chinese people.
I tried again at several stores getting better results, but still nothing promising. Best Buy, Books a Million, and all the usual stores glowed. I knew I was close because I passed these stores on the school bus every morning. Even the change in lighting that affected everything else couldn’t make these titans look that much different. The clock on the sign outside read 11:23 PM; mom was going to kill me, and I knew it. My feet ached, and what little arch they had had been pounded flat by years of walking. It was nothing that a few hours of television and sleep wouldn’t fix, but still it was irritating. I sniffed as my nose began to run in the cold weather.
I could see the bank that was at the end of my street, and if I had the energy I would have shouted and run, but instead I continued on at the same pace; my energy had left me sometime ago and I just wanted to go home. Rounding the corner, my house stood on the other end of the street. Reaching my house, I decided opening the door would wake the dog and the dog’s barking would wake my mother. “I knew there was a reason I keep that window open,” I said. Managing to climb over the set of bushes just below the window, I kicked my shoes off. Because my bed was directly under the window and I did not want to get the filth of the street into my bed. Not bothering to be careful, I pried out the screen and slipped inside. As usual, my room was a mess.
“Naeem!” My mother’s voice rang out through the house as she called my middle name. Does she ever sleep? I was tempted not to answer, but remembering the last time I had not responded to her call (she had called the police) I responded, “Yes mom?”
“ You were sleeping so I put your dinner in the fridge. Warm it up when you’re ready.”
I couldn’t believe it she hadn’t missed me one bit. Not that I wanted her to worry but I had expected it and it suddenly left me quite cold to find out that she had hardly noticed my absence. “ No that’s alright I’m going back to bed.” It was already near pitch dark in my room rolling over I hit the pillow with a comfortable thud and went to sleep, I’d get my shoes in the morning. Hopefully tomorrow would have better results.