Jessica's Story - Lesson 3

In the restroom, a couple of kids were arguing over whether to go on the bumper cars or get a hotdog. They finished washing their hands and threw their paper towels in the floor as they scurried up the concrete steps to the exit.

“You better come back and pick that up, you little litterbugs.” Jess shouted after them, but they paid no attention. She set her tote on a bench beside the trashcan, pulled her pink cover-up back out and slipped it over her head. She bent over the nasty-looking sink and splashed cold water on her face and neck to cool off, turning the water on and off with a paper towel. Pulling the pink scrunci from her ponytail, she finger combed her fine, medium length blonde hair. She dug around in the bottom of her tote and pulled out a pair of pink sandals and a lightweight pink sweater. Later when it was cooler, her cover-up would pass for a dress with her sweater on. She carefully laid it back on top. After she exchanged her flip-flops for the sandals, she pulled out her make up bag, touched up her lashes with mascara and put on some pink lip-gloss.

That’ll have to do. Her reflected blue eyes in the grungy bathroom mirror seemed satisfied and determined. She left the restroom and continued down the boardwalk, not looking toward the beach again.

She found the bus station on the second street to intersect with the boardwalk. Digging in her tote again, she extracted one of the hundred dollar bills from her baby-sitting stash and crunched it up in her fist. Inside the air-conditioned waiting room, smells of tobacco, sweat, and coffee colored her opinion of her potential fellow travelers. An older woman with two children around Chloe and Ethan’s age sat beside the snack machine. A young black man with dreadlocks and an iPod slouched near the windows reading a schedule.

“How far will this take me?” she asked the bald-headed clerk at the ticket window.

“Which direction?” he asked, glancing up at her.

“North.”

He typed in some numbers and turned the screen around so Jess could see.

“Far enough?”

“When does it leave?”

“Ten minutes.”

“Perfect.”

Lighter by $98.23 but with her prize in hand, Jess looked around for a seat near the windows. She glanced at the generic clock on the wall, hoped ten minutes was long enough and the bus was on time.

Jess put her hand in her tote and felt around until she found her “trashy” novel. She opened it to her dog-eared page and tried to read but could not concentrate. The two little kids across from her argued over a stuffed bear until the girl, the older of the two, kicked the little boy in the shins. He bellowed and ran to the older woman, probably Grandmom, and buried his face in her lap. Grandmom scolded the little girl, who threw the bear down on the scuffed floor and ran to sit in a chair next to Jessica.

Not wanting to interfere but wondering what the older woman would do, Jess pretended to read. The grandmom picked up the bear and put it into a large bag she was carrying. She dried the little boy’s eyes and helped him settle in the seat beside her, all the while ignoring his whining, and ignoring the little girl. After a short time, the girl went back to sit beside her brother and Jess heard her mumble, “Sorry.” The grandmom never raised her voice or seemed very agitated by the whole affair.

Jess, herself, always got wrapped up in her kids' squabbles, smacking both their bottoms, and then overcompensating from guilt with candy or treats. Jess sat and pondered over what had just happened.