Insert 8

May 16

Dark chocolate eyes peer just an inch above the wall… Bullet-ridden and pocketed, the wall in recent decay, secrets the child’s body … The child, coughing with the dust, now has asthma… and the child just looks across the street… Doors and windows are gone, everything’s coated in a beige powder… and the child stares…

A trail of dark blood… dried… splatters the wall… A hand reaches lifelessly out from the doorway… The arm covered by a blue burqa, blackened with dirt… no rings, no polished nails… two broken… A trace of dried blood on the wrist… and flies… And the child watches… The dusk hinges on the traces of the moon orb…

The strings of cellos sound from down the street… Apocalytica … Quutamo… faintly… and the child turns it’s head to the sounds… and then quickly back again… to across the street… waiting for the hand to move… Holes and small craters own the street and the occasional pile of sand proves that the desert is gaining… once again…

There’s smoke in the air… and the acrid scent of rubber and shadows are lengthening… The child doesn’t remember the time that the air was smokeless… The child keeps watching… and listening… Up the street a cat steals searching for a morsel. And the constant beat of Quutamo… and the solitude of cello music… And the cat stops… The child catches the quick stop and lowers head behind the wall… And the hum of the cellos in the upper reaches catches the air…

The child breathes, and gasps for clean air… and begins to rise… And now the child’s burnt pool eyes go over the wall’s up-most tier… and the child pauses… The cellos still resonate. The child wonders where everyone is gone. The adults have gone away... except the one laying down in the empty stairwell across the street. The child keeps watching the cat... They know how to find something to eat.... The cat can find something to eat.... When are the adults coming back…?

They took the big ones. The ones that could hold the guns... And the cellos begin to crescendo...Apocalytica… and the cellos are carrying the birds... the ones that have disappeared. And then the child sees the boot in the middle of the street. The shoe laces untied, a large brown boot... and left behind... Could there be another one? The child thinks that a new pair of boots would help clambering on the rock piles and through the destroyed buildings...New boots would help protect its feet... and help it to pick through the bomb strewn cars and other bits and pieces... The child looks down the street for the second boot.

A single cello is now playing and focusing the melody on some distant place. A haunting sound continues... The sun wanes behind the skeleton of the small grocery store that once thrived at the corner down to the left. The child snaps its head, quickly in the direction of the grocery store. There is a movement... a sound above the cello…

An elderly figure appears from behind the wall of the grocery store... slowly... cautiously... The figure pauses... the figure looks to the right, and to the left. The old person motions behind. Another old person, draped in black appears from behind the remnants of the wall. The old people are silent. The cat scampers to the empty stairwell and disappears behind the burqa on the ground. The child keeps its eyes on the old people... The child scrunches down. The child knows it must not move... The child knows it must not make any sound.

The cellos begin to rise. The music is soft in the distance... and begins to slowly step, to progress, to rise... the beat of Quutamo blends with the scrunching of the feet as they move slowly from the corner across the street. The child covers its ears... Four shoes are getting closer... closer. The sun is gone. The darkness covers the child.

The child uncovers its ears and listens. The scrunching has stopped. The cellos have stopped. The Quutamo beat matches the child's heartbeat. A hand reaches down and gently rests on the child's head. The child startles... but has no fear. The child turns to look upward... The Hero smiles... The Hero takes the child's hand and helps the child to rise... The Hero lifts the child up over the decaying wall... The Angel reaches over... The child hugs the Angel...

A single cello note resounds... an explosion destroys the remaining grocery wall. The Hero lifts the child... turns to the left and starts to walk down the street. The Angel follows.

Insert 7

May 9

The green bus beeps, and beeps again as it backs down the driveway. The new driver is attentive to the charges and looks in the rearview mirror… one of those big horizontal types. It's a must to survey all the inside, and to check the Naugahyde seat occupants. The driver looks at the new clock on the dashboard, and adjusts the microphone.

“People… Dears… This trip should take about an hour, if we don't run into any traffic problems. I hope everyone's attended to what they needed to before we got onboard. Please wait till we get there before you ask me any questions. I need to concentrate… We have to get all of us there, safely…"

And the bus driver looks forward… looks back, looks left, looks right… and looks in the rearview mirror. The green bus beeps, and beeps again, and the bus backs to the road.

The bus driver shifts into forward and proceeds down the road. Today the bus driver has 15 charges. Fourteen of them have both hands on the seat in front, holding for the rest of their lives, holding on.... holding hard. The ancient veins, purple, on the backs of their hands. Thirteen don't smile. Two, the Hero and the Angel are grinning. They've been there before. The Angel turns to the Hero and smiles.

“But I didn’t want to go” pipes up Number 2C.

“Me neither” echoes Number 1B… “I’m gonna miss my Price is Right…”

The green bus rumbles on….

"You should have a lot of fun today. We're going to the circus. We’ve got front row seats for everyone. There’ll be balloons and popcorn and there’s cotton candy. There will be clowns and acrobats and highfliers in purple sequined tights. They're going to entertain you. This show is just for you."

And still, only the Hero and the Angel smile… The deep recesses furrowing to the twinkle of their eyes… They like the circus… Any circus… Fantasy dreams of days when they went as children, with eyes-wide… and circles of cotton candy sugar round their mouths… The Hero especially loves cotton candy… but only the pink type… Not the type with the new-fangled dyes… The Angel likes the mustardy hot-dogs… in steamed buns… with sauerkraut… and relish… not the sweet type… the sour type relish…

And the bus bumps twice as it crosses the tracks on the road… The trip’s taken about 50 minutes and there are about 30 more minutes to go… to get to the Coliseum… and the Circus…

“Is that a cow?” asks 3A, “Why are we going to a farm?”

“Nope, silly… We’re being obliged to go to a circus… We had two smell choices, cow manure, or elephant manure” responds 3D…

“I voted that we just stay at home,” chimes Number 2B… “I don’t… I’ve never liked the circus… The poor animals… and all those runaways… and thieves… and gypsies…”

“Make sure your money is hidden” announces 1C… 4C and 4D nod their heads in unison, in silence…

“Dears,” over the intercom, “please don’t get yourselves tired. Think of the fun we’re gonna have. Think of the horseback riders… and the clowns in the little cars…”

“Screw you… you clown… I’d like to shove you into one of those little cars!” Number 3B is getting red. The veins on 3B’s throat are beginning to stick out… more than usual… The Angel reaches over and pats 3B’s shoulder… The veins retract…

“I still don’t see why we have to do those things they want to do? No-one ever asks me… I, too, am going to miss Price is Right…” Number 3B is calmer now…

The bus jolts to a stop. The passengers jerk forward. The Hero falls from the seat. The Angel reaches out and helps the Hero back up…

“Sorry about that, Dears. The lights, over on this side of the County always seem to change much faster… Won’t happen again… Everyone alright? Good!” And the Green Bus jerks forward…

“We will be there, at the Coliseum, at the Circus, in a wee bit. Everyone please, please relax.”

“I’m going to Poplar Bluff” announces Number 4C “My baby lives in Poplar Bluff. I can’t wait to see my baby…” The Angel smiles approvingly at 4C, and nods…

“Do you think you could hold my two dollars for me?” Number 1D asks 1C… “There are too many pockets on these shorts… and I’m always losing things in them… The pockets have to have holes in them…”

“No problem.” responds 1C…

“Are we there yet?” 2A touches 1A’s shoulder… “We should be getting there…”

“I can’t see anything in this seat… The bus driver person is in the way… I can’t see… And these seats are sticky… too sticky…”

The Hero’s right hand twitches, and the Hero smiles at Number 1D…

“Dears we’re are going to pull up near the front entrance… Please gather up your belongings…”

“I didn’t bring my belongings…” squeaks Number 3A… “Why did I have to forget my belongings?” The Angel reaches forward a gently squeezes 3A’s shoulder… and strokes the nape of Number 3A’s neck…

“Once we’re at the front entrance, I’m going to let you all out… You’ll please wait just to the left of the front entrance. You will wait for me… I will just have to go and park the bus… I will then come right back to you all and then we shall go on into the Circus… I should only be a couple of minutes…”

“What did the bus driver person say? I can’t hear what the bus driver person said. I don’t think the new battery is working too well?” whines Number 1A… “What did the bus driver say?”

The Green Bus bounces over a speed bump… Number 3D is jumped from the seat. 3D’s head bumps on the side of the bus.

“Are you okay, dear?” asks 4D…

“I’m not your dear!” retorts Number 3D. “I’m nobody’s dear! And I’m fine… just fine!!!”

The Green Bus comes to a stop. All passengers are jolted forward… then back…

“We’re here. Make sure you’ve got your belongings... And we’ll now all, slowly… there’s no rush… slowly get off the bus… Remember you’re all to stay together at the left side of the front entrance. I’ll park the bus… and I’ll be right back… Slowly… please, slowly… Please there’s no need to rush…”

The front door of the Green Bus squeaks open… A calliope is hissing and plunking a tune from 1911… Oh You Beautiful Doll…and there are balloons… All colors, many, many balloons…

“Okay Dears, slowly… slowly… Watch the steps… slowly… Don’t push… There that’s it down the steps… And just go over there, to the left, by the entrance, by the ticket booth…”

“Oh! You beautiful doll… You great big beautiful doll… Let me put my arms about you…” croons Number 1B…

“Hush up and just go… Move on down the step… I wanna get out of here…” bemoans 2B…

Everyone files off the Green Bus… to the left of the entrance… and form a circle group right next to the ticket booth… A young Redhead peers through the window… and begins counting the group…The Green Bus leaves…

“I’ll be right back… Now you dears just stay there… and wait for me…”

“What does that bus driver person think we are… a kindergarten class? We should all grab our tickets and just go in… Let’s leave the bus driver person out here, alone… without us…”

“If you ever leave me, how my heart will ache, I want to hug you but I fear you’d break…”

“Hush up, Ethel Merman… or should I say… Nelson Eddy”

“Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! You beautiful doll!!!

“Okay, I’m here… And now, Dears… Okay everyone gather round… Let me just count all of you… Make sure we’re not missing anyone… Two, four, six, eight, ten… twelve, fourteen, and me fifteen… That’s not right! Should be fifteen-plus-one-more, me… That’s sixteen! Two-four-six-eight-ten-twelve-fourteen-fifteen… We’re supposed to be sixteen… Who’s missing? Who are we missing? Okay, hang-on… Everyone got off the Green Bus…”

“Did you check beneath the seats?”

“There was no one in the bus when I parked it… Who’s missing?”

“Well, I’m here…”

“They haven’t come to get me yet… so I’m here…”

“I just can’t wait to visit my baby in Poplar Bluff… My baby knows that Charlene… The Charlene dear from…. What’s the name of that show? You know the one with the ladies and the one black man who design things?”

“Designing Women!!!”

“My baby knows the Charlene lady from that same TV show.”

“But I know I couldn’t have lost one of you… This is serious! Who’s missing? Did anyone see if anyone wandered off?”

“They’ve all been waiting here since you let them off the bus… The Green Bus…” added the Redhead from the ticket window… “I didn’t see anyone take off… Definitely not into the Big Top… without a ticket… and I’ve got all your tickets here.”

“Okay… I know you dears all got off when I pulled up… Okay, everyone come over here and line up… Let’s see… You’re Number 1A… and you’re 1B… 1C and 1D… Numbers 2A and B… Number 2C… and next is Number 2D… Where’s 2D? Are you 2D?”

“No.”

“Are you 2D? No, you’re not 2D… Where’s 2D? Has anyone seen 2D? I have to go back to the Green Bus… right now… I have to go find 2D… You Dears wait here… I’ll be back when I find 2D… Just wait here. Do you mind watching after them?”

“Don’t mind… but I’ve got a job to do… taking tickets, and all” states the Redhead…

The bus driver person runs off…

The Hero and the Angel look at each other… and smile… faintly… The Angel takes the Hero’s hand and they head on over to the marquis tent… The calliope wails…

“Oh! You beautiful doll!”