The Outkast

Chapter 5

Shortly after Robert and his mother had left the Sheriff’s Department, they walked down Cheshire Avenue to the bus terminal. Not long, the bus emerged from the distance and started to slow down. But as soon as the driver realized who they were, he put his foot down.

Kids gawked from the window of the bus; a couple of ladies exchanged glances, looked down at Holly and her son, and started to laugh.

Holly was busy waving at first, with the hope that the bus would stop, and she didn’t come to grips with what was transpiring. But then, when the bus sped past them, awareness hit her like an uppercut blow to the chin. She lowered her hand slowly, her jaw dropping. At that instant, she felt an internal exhaustion that threatened to engulf her more than ever.

Why had everyone chosen to be so cruel to her? What had she done to deserve all of this public derision? She wished she could procure an answer. But the deeper she sought a reason for their action, the farther it slipped away from her.

The thought of Robert going through this dark time together with her felt even more intense-so much it almost knocked the wind out of her.

Repressing a tear for the boy’s sake, she grabbed Robert’s hand, and they started to walk home. “I guess the bus is for another route-not ours. But we can walk home, can’t we?”

“Yes, mom. I love walking.” Robert looked up at his mother with pleading eyes. “Are we going to pick some berries on our way home?”

“Maybe,” Holly said.

They had walked perhaps fifty meters when Robert said, “Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Why did the man go away?”

“What man?”

“The bus driver. He didn’t stop for us. Is he mad at me, mom?” He looked up at her again.

“No one is mad at you.” Holly didn’t meet her son’s gaze, or slow her pace. She moved on, a thousand thoughts racing through her brain.

“Why didn’t he stop for us, then?”

“I think the bus isn’t going our way. Must have been a different route.”

“It’s the same one we ride home everyday. I even know the man driving the bus,” Robert pressed on. “Is he mad at you, mom?”

She stopped then. “Hey, what made you think anyone is mad at me-or at you, for that matter?”

“I don’t know.” There was a tiny stone perched on top of a bigger one on the ground, right in front of him. Robert kicked it hard, so hard he jerked forward and almost yanked himself off Holly’s grip. His gray pants shimmied in the process. “But I wanna know why, mom. Please, could you tell me?”

“Robert, I do not know why, okay? So, you cut that out and let it rest.” The words rushed out of her mouth unchecked, too harsh and cold. She felt bad instantly for exploding at her son, for taking her frustration out on him.

Robert recoiled a little.

She pulled him towards her. “All right, listen. I’m sorry I flew off the handle. But don’t you worry about the bus driver, about what he did or didn’t do. What’s important is that we’re heading home now, where there’s a lot of cheese and cookies to feast on.”

Robert smiled.

“And you like walking, don’t you?”

“I love it.” The smile on his face had put on some weight. “And I love picking berries, too.”

As they advanced home, Holly wondered how diverse-and greatly polarized-their thought patterns were. As far as she was concerned, the world was a ginormous eye-riddled ball, evil in its entirety. And it rolled after her every second, keeping track of everything she did, and poised to condemn each of her steps. To Robert, however, the enemies could be put behind at Our Lady of Peace Junior High, and they could lunch on wood shavings for all he cared. Whenever he was alone with Holly, all the ills of the world received adequate cures. It became a better place again.

A better place where his worries and frights of the Carters and Murphys of this world became but history.

The world of bliss.

Of chocolate and cookies and cheese.

Robert laughed at various jokes told by his mother, but later threw a tantrum, because Holly wouldn’t let him pick berries.