Time Enough

Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. The clouds would last for ten minutes, and in that timeframe there was a chance to board the bus. Tyler sat at the bus stop and waited. He’d missed it last week and the week before that he’d been short on the fare. But not this time. This time he was ready. He was the only one waiting at the bus stop that night, though he had expected that. You only got to ride the bus once, and most people in town that were interested in it already had.

The bus pulled into the stop with a squeak, the familiar unfamiliar sign atop it. It was in a language that no one could read, but people had gotten used to it after a while, same as they had gotten used to the violet sky.

The driver turned its head to look at him, featureless.

Where you headed to, son? Jacob thought about it, remembering what other passengers had told him.

“Uh—about, about 17 stops away.” The driver nodded and turned away impassively.

As Jacob looked out the window, he saw the world outside begin to blur. People had told him it was disorienting. But that it was also quick.

The brakes squealed to a stop.

“Remember,” the driver said “You can’t bring anything from your destination on the return trip.”

Jacob nodded and stepped off the bus. He’d heard that too.

The house in front of him looked the same as it had before the divorce. He sighed. And there was a young boy of around nine sitting on the fence and watching the cars go by.

“Hey. How you doin’ bud?” he ventured. God, the kid looked like he could be his son.

“My name’s Jake.” The boy replied matter of factly.

There was a loud clatter from the house behind him. Maybe a window was open. Raised voices floated out too. The boy’s mother and the bastard she was married to. He couldn’t catch the words, but he could guess at them.

The boy cringed.

“Hey, it’ll be alright.” Jacob said hurriedly.

“No, no it won’t. It’s my fault. I’m in the way of their happiness, she said so.”

Jacob looked away, at the purple clouds in the distance. People on this side of the bus stop could never see what the sky looked like. He wasn’t sure why. There were a lot of things about this that didn’t make sense. But he accepted them anyway.

“You know; one day you’ll be grown. You’ll be okay.”

“How would you know that?”

“The same way I know that they treat you like you’re supposed to know how to put their broken pieces together. It’s not your fault.”

Jake started tearing up.

Jacob paused. He hadn’t meant to make the boy cry.

“Are you my real dad?”

Jacob’s heart lurched.

“No one’s ever said anything like that to me before. I just—”

Jake struggled to find the words, and Jacob debated telling the boy the truth, but he was interrupted by a shrill voice piercing the night.

“Jacob Knowles, what the hell are you still doing out there?”

“Mom’s calling,” the boy said apologetically. “Hey mister? Thanks.”

Jacob didn’t know how to respond. He just walked back to the street.

The wait at the bus stop was the longest one of his life. But when it arrived, he got on quickly, nodding to the faceless driver.

“You say what you needed to say?” the driver asked.

Jacob paused for a moment. Something half-remembered dancing in the back of his mind. A sense of déjà vu that hadn’t been there before.

“I said what I—what he needed to hear.”

As the bus started to pull away, Jacob stared at his childhood home one last time before it began to blur.

Whether it was from the time dilation or the tears in his eyes, he couldn’t be sure.