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By Leissa K. Kimball (a.k.a. Silver Moonrider) Kyla had never been in a bus station before. She felt uncomfortable. The Greyhound station in downtown Los Angeles was not a good place to be late at night, especially for an attractive, young woman. She sat on the hard wooden bench nervously smoking a cigarette and tapping ashes into the ashtray. She looked around anxiously at the weary travelers, and people that appeared to have no place else to go. Near her, a young mother herded her children toward the restroom. The guys standing by the ticket booth were still staring at her. They looked like your typical “frat boy” type. The kind of handsome young men that liked to pick on others to feel better about themselves. They seemed cocky and mean-spirited. She had seen them picking on a man earlier. They pulled him out of his chair and harassed him about his dirty clothes and unkempt appearance. They were grown men that still acted like the bullies they were in elementary school. They were on the prowl, and now they’d set their sights on her. “You see that one over there? She’s a ripe little peach just begging to be picked,” the black-haired one said pointing to her with his chin. “She is su-weet,” replied the red-haired one. Kyla locked eyes with the blonde one for an instant. She quickly turned away but it was too late. “Well, boys, I think it’s harvest time,“ the blonde-haired one said, cracking his knuckles. They began to skulk over to her. She looked for someplace to go. She saw the restrooms and stood up, but they reached her before she could take her first step. Blondy grabbed her arm, “Where are you going, sweetie? We just want to talk to you.” Reluctantly, she turned to face him. She stared at him. She wanted him to see she wasn’t afraid of him, even though her heart was racing. He relaxed his grip on her arm and she pulled free. She realized that she was safest here in the crowded, brightly lit bus station. Knowing they’d hunt her, she did not try to escape again. At least here somebody might hear her scream. She allowed him to pull her back down on the bench. He put his arm around her shoulder, ready to grab her if she tried to run again. Blackie squeezed in on the other side of her, while Red stood by, keeping watch. “What’s a sweet young thang like you doing in the bus station at night?” he asked. “Don’t you know it can be dangerous?” “I’m going to visit my aunt, “ she said casually. “Well, Sugar, why don’t you visit with us while you wait,” he said putting his hand on her knee. “I’m not really interested… Please,” she said shrugging away from him. “Ah, come on, honey. Play nice. We’re not gonna hurt ya,” Blackie told her, putting his hand against her cheek. “Yeah, we don’t wanna hurt ya. We just wanna keep ya company,” Red said leering at her. They had her boxed in. Red was hovering over her, while the other two pressed her from both sides. Why were they doing this to her? She suddenly began to feel flushed--her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She didn’t like this claustrophobic feeling. Her head started to swim. Why didn’t they just leave her alone? She felt faint. She swallowed hard, hoping to force down the nausea. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. Her mind began to wander. I feel like I’m floating. She drifted above the scene that was happening below. It was like a dream, and in this dream she could see those creeps harassing her but she wasn’t a part of it. Paralyzed by fear, she couldn’t tell those guys to go away and leave her alone. She reached out to help the dream Kyla, but all she could do was watch. She closed her mind’s eye and when she opened it again she was far away from that bus station. Suddenly, she found herself in a different bus station in another time. There were only a few people. Most of them were men wearing uniforms, old military uniforms like the one she’d seen Grandpa wearing in those pictures from World War II--only these weren’t old. The women were all wearing dresses, hats, gloves and high-heeled shoes. It looked like a scene from that movie Pearl Harbor. She looked around. At first she didn’t recognize the blonde woman sitting alone reading. But then she lifted her head and she could see that the woman looked like her. The woman was her grandmother, Kate. “Bus 107 to San Francisco now boarding,” the voice boomed over the loudspeaker. Katie looked up from her book, but that wasn’t her bus. Her bus was going to San Diego where she was meeting her fiancé. He was coming home from Germany for the first time in over two years. It was Christmas and they were getting married. She glanced around the bus station. It was moderately empty--mostly young men on their way to boot camp, or GI’s returning from the war in the Pacific. She started reading her book again. She was reading Gone With The Wind for the second time. She loved going back in time with Scarlett O’Hara. She imagined that her soldier was Rhett Butler when he went away to the war. Thinking of Ron made her smile. She thought of the night they met, at the USO club. She’d been sitting at the table with a couple of her friends when the dashing, dark-haired soldier approached her and asked her to dance. They danced the whole night. He shipped out a week later, but they wrote to each other almost everyday. He sent her a diamond engagement ring from Germany last Christmas and soon they would be married. She fingered her engagement ring as she daydreamed about their wedding. She wasn’t going to have the big family affair at the old church, but that was acceptable. In times of war, you had to make sacrifices. She pictured how it would be. They would stand nervously in front of the judge. He would be wearing his uniform and she would be wearing her mother’s wedding dress… She was so enthralled in her daydream; she didn’t notice the men until they sat down beside her. There were three of them. The dark-haired one sat on her left and the blonde on her right. The third, a redhead, stood in front of her, slightly to the right. They were all dressed in khaki uniforms. “Hey sweetie, where are you headed?” the blonde one asked. The name on his uniform said Barton. She didn’t say anything. She just looked at them. Men had never approached her like this before. The dark-haired one, Hart was the name on his uniform asked, “What’s your name?” He stretched one arm across the back of her chair, while he put his other hand on her arm. She couldn’t say Katie; she didn’t want these men calling her what Ron called her. She also didn’t want them to call her Kate like her friends and family called her so she said, “My name is Katherine.” “Well, Katherine. It’s awfully nice to meet you,” Barton said extending his hand to her. She didn’t take it. There was something not right about these men. And who did that Hart one think he was putting his hand on her arm Barton took out a pack of Lucky Strikes and offered them around. “No thank you,” she refused. Taking a drag on his cigarette Barton said, “So, Katherine, where are you heading? You a nurse?” “Wanna nurse me?” Hart asked, laughing. Why don’t they just leave me alone? Can’t they see I’m not interested in them? She looked up, anxiously trying to find a sympathetic face. She spied one across the bus station. A handsome, dark-haired lieutenant noticed the scene. He saw the look of despair on her face and decided to help her. He got two bottles of Coke out of the soda machine and carried them over to her. “Here is your Coke, Honey. I’m sorry it took so long, I had to get change,” he said handing her one of the bottles of icy cold pop. Gratefully she took it, “Oh that’s all right sweetheart. These gentlemen were kind enough to keep me company while you were gone.” Hart recognized the rank of the man, and immediately got up, “We’re sorry sir. We didn’t know she was with you.” Taking the seat that Hart had just emptied he said, “That’s okay private. I appreciate you keeping her company while I was away. You never can be too safe. You don’t know what people you’ll meet in the bus station. But you men had better be on your way now.” “It was a pleasure meeting you ma’am. Sorry to have bothered you,” Barton said. Cowed by the officer and ashamed of their behavior, they began to slink away. “Sir,” they said saluting the lieutenant. “Thank you,” she said after they had gone. “Think nothing of it. I saw your desperation and thought, ‘What if that was my wife sitting there?’ And so I did what I could.” “I’m Christopher, by the way,” he said extending his hand to her. “I’m Kate,” she said taking it and pumping it. She took a cigarette out of the case in her purse. He took out his Zippo and lit it for her. “Bus 102 to San Diego now boarding,” the voice boomed over the loud speaker. They both got up. “That’s my bus,” she said “That’s just where I’m going,” he said. He grabbed their suitcases and walked toward the bus. He gave the attendant their luggage and they boarded the bus together. Suddenly Kyla snapped back into her reality. “They didn’t have Coke, so I got you root beer instead. I hope that’s okay.” She opened her eyes and shook her head to clear the fog. She looked closely at the tall, handsome, dark-haired, young man handing her a soda. He looked strangely familiar to her, but she couldn’t think clearly enough right now to know where she might have seen him before. “No, that’s fine,” she said automatically, taking the soda from him “Who are your friends, dear?” He said squeezing between Blackie and Kyla. “You don’t mind do you?” he asked glaring at Blackie. “I didn’t catch their names. Perhaps they could introduce themselves,” she suggested. Although incensed by the invasion on their territory, they knew instinctively that this guy wouldn’t mess around and that this wasn’t the time or place for this fight. The boys immediately got up and backed away from her. “Well I think I heard them calling our bus. Sorry to have bothered you, ma’am,” Blondy said. Quickly they turned and walked away. “Thank you so much,” she said taking another cigarette out of her pack. He reached in his pocket and pulled out an old Zippo and lit it for her. “It was my pleasure. I hate to see jerks like that bothering anybody. I saw you in trouble and thought, ‘What if that was my wife they were harassing,’” he said. “Well you must be my guardian angel,“ she said with generous smile. Yeah, something like that,” he nodded. “My name’s Kyla,” she said extending her hand to him. “I’m Christopher,” he said shaking hands with her. She smiled, “A good Samaritan and the patron saint of travelers. I’m a lucky girl.” He laughed with her. “Bus 105 to San Bernardino now boarding,” boomed the announcer’s voice over the loudspeaker. “Well that’s my bus,” she said getting up. He got up with her. “I’ll walk with you,” he said as he grabbed her bag and escorted her to the bus. He handed her bag to the attendant and waited with her in line. “I want to thank you again for what you did. Those creeps really had me scared,” she said. She stepped up about to board the bus. “Hey! No problem. Like I said it was my pleasure.” As she got on the bus he said, “Oh and tell Kate I said hello.” She stopped and turned, sure that she must have heard him wrong, but he was gone, or perhaps, he was never really there. |