Storymania - For Love Of Maple Bars by Young

For Love Of Maple Bars
Young

The bus was late, again. I was late. My feet, continuously tapping the sidewalk pavement indicated my impatience. Where was it?
Everyday was the same. The bus would be late. I would be late. My professor would lecture me on the importance of promptness. I wouldn’t listen. He would get mad. The usual routine. I hated it.
“Which bus you waiting for?”
I looked up and blinked rapidly. I forgot the sun was out. Silhouetted in the sun was a figure, rather tall, with a mane of grizzled hair. The figure, taking my blinking as a positive response, sat down next to me.
“Interesting choice for a bench” the figure remarked.
“What?” I was still momentarily blinded by the sun. I couldn’t make out the figure next to me. It did sound like a man, but you never knew these days, especially in this neighborhood.
“The bench we’re sitting on. Funny choice. It’s advertising caskets. If it were my choice, I’d have chosen that carpet cleaning bench.”
“Why don’t you go sit there then?” My voice was harsh. The bus was late. My eyes, finally adjusted, showed me a man as the owner of the mane of grizzled hair.
He was silent for a moment. One lovely moment. “My mom passed away a month ago. Beautiful funeral it was. We had flowers and food, you know, the whole shebang. I’m proud to say there wasn’t a tear in my eye.”
“Is it because you didn’t love her?”
Silence again. Ahhh, the lovely silence. I could hear the roar of cars driving by, leaving me sitting there with this man. “No, she was good to me,” he replied cheerfully a moment later. “I was just sharing, you know. Had any deaths in the family lately?”
I shook my head. The bus was really late today. “Wellˇmy fish died two days ago. Don’t really know why.”
“Sorry to hear that. It’s always sad when a pet dies. What was its name?”
“Fish.”
Silence. “You know, I was reading the other day in the library.”
I quickly turned my head to face him and said with as much earnestness as I could muster, “You go to the library?”
He nodded sagely, either missing my sarcasm or choosing to ignore it. “Yeah, I was reading that new book out by Rowling. She’s a great writer. Loved the way she implemented the teen angst. Really shows her characters growing up.”
“Oh, really,” I said with more than a hint of sarcasm this time. Why wouldn’t he leave? Where was that damn bus? I looked down at my wrist, forgetting that I didn’t wear watches.
“Yeah, she’s probably my new favorite author. How about you? Do you read?”
“Occasionally?”
“Really? Like who? Who’s your favorite writer?”
“Camus.”
“Catherine?”
“No, Albert.”
“Oh, that’s interesting. I thought for a second there that you meant my friend, Catherine. She’s a writer you know. I thought maybe she had gotten published.”
I looked past the man down the street for any signs of the bus. “That’s nice,” I mumbled.
“You know, you should read some of her stuff. It’s pretty good. I mean she’s no Rowling, but still good. Her stuff’s more artsy, deep, kinda like that guy who wrote about dinosaurs.”
“Michael Crichton?”
“Yeah, that’s the one. She’s kinda like him, but not really. She writes about space and some time continuation or something like that. I don’t really know. Her stuff’s way beyond me, but maybe you’d like it.”
“I doubt it.”
Silence again. I was beginning to enjoy these periods of silence. If only the bus would come.
“What bus you waiting for?”
I looked at him for a moment. I needed to lie. “The thirty.”
He looked crestfallen for a moment. “Oh, I’m waiting for the nine-sixty.” Shit, that’s the same one I’m waiting for. “I was hoping to talk to you more on the bus.”
“Tragic.”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
I stare impatiently down at my wrist again. Where’s the bus?
“You a student?”
“Yeah.”
“What you studying?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Yeah.” This man was annoying me.
“Never went to college myself. Couldn’t afford it. And my mom, she used to say that college was only for the rich kids.” I sensed that he was eyeing me skeptically. “You don’t seem like a rich kid.”
I didn’t respond. I was getting tired of talking to him.
The man took my silence as an affirmative. “Yeah, you’re probably not rich. Why else would you be here waiting for the bus.” He turned away from me and stared across the street where a woman was walking her dog, a rather hairy dog. The dog was sniffing around on the grass. A few moments later, satisfied with its chosen spot, the dog made to sit and deposited a load on the grass. The woman made an effort to look at everything but her dog. For a moment, she looked across the street at me and the man sitting next to me. When the dog was done, they continued walking down the street, leaving the dog’s load behind.
“Will you just look at that,” the man remarked. “It’s so symbolic of society these days. People just leaving their shit around for other people to clean up.”
I nodded absently. The bus was never going to come.
He turned to me again. I could see out of the corner of my eye. I just kept staring straight ahead. “I hope you don’t turn out like that.”
“Me neither,” I mumbled.
The man let out a laugh. It sounded more like a cough. It startled me because I jumped a little. “Are you cold?” The man asked.
I shook my head.
“It’s been getting colder,” I turned at the sounds of squealing brakes. A bus was approaching! The man turned to look at the bus as well. “Twenty-two,” he mumbled.
Where’s my bus? I shivered a little as a cold breeze blew by, following the passing of the bus. I put my hands underneath my legs for warmth.
“You know, there’s a donut shop not one block down the street from here. They have the best maple bars I’ve ever had.”
“Really,” I said absently. I might as well go home. The bus was really late. I wasn’t going to make my class at all.
“Yeah, the owner of the place was a guy named Sal. I used to know him. He’d always be behind the counter eating one of his donuts.” The man chuckled to himself for a minute. “I always thought he ate more donuts than he sold. Especially since that donut chain opened across the street from him.”
“What do you mean you used to know him?”
“Oh, that. Funny story. I was on my way to his shop to get a maple bar. I turn the corner and I see an ambulance and all these police cars parked everywhere. Turned out old Sal was robbed and shot. They found him with a half-eaten apple fritter in his hand.” The man bellowed out with laughter. Ever since then, Sal’s son took over the shop. You’ll never believe what his name is.”
“What?” I really didn’t care. Two more minutes. If the bus doesn’t show up, I’m going home.
“Sal.” The man slapped his knee and laughed as if he told a really funny joke. It seemed stupid to me.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, young Sal’s not as fond of donuts as his old man, but he still makes great maple bars.”
“I’ll have to check it out sometime.”
“Yeah, you should.” The sound of another bus approaching turned both of our heads. Finally! The bus was here!
The man and I simultaneously rose from our seats. Shit, I forgot we were waiting for the same bus. He turned to me. “Well, this is my bus.”
“Yeah,” I mumble.
He held out his hand. It was crusted in dirt. I looked at his hand for a moment. I didn’t want to shake his hand. It looked dirty, but slowly, my own hand rose. He grasped my hand firmly and shook enthusiastically. “You know what, kid? I bet you’re going to be real successful one day.”
I smiled wanly.
“It was nice talking to you,” he said as he turned to get on the bus. “Now me, I’ve got a funeral to get to.”
“I thought you already had a funeral for your mom.”
He turned halfway on the steps of the bus and smiled faintly. “No, not for my mom. It’s my dad. He couldn’t live without her. Passed away just last week.”
“OhˇI’m sorry.”
The man nodded slowly and waved to me. The bus door closed behind him. I stood there watching the bus leave, my bus leave. Silence once again. But this time, I didn’t feel the same satisfaction as I had earlier.
Well, no class for me today. My professor’s going to be angry with me tomorrow. I turned to walk home, but stopped after a few steps.
I want a donut, I thought to myself. I turned around and walked the one block to the donut shop for a maple bar.