“You only have $78.37 here.” The guy at the bus station wasn’t going to let us go to Bousfield because we were sixty-three cents short. I couldn’t believe it!
Normally, I would have just apologized for wasting his time and walked away. I mean, I was hardly the type to argue with people. I was hardly the type to even talk to people.
But this time was different. Maybe it was because I was desperate. Or maybe it was because I was disguised. Wearing those pink glasses of Bitsie’s and that stupid kerchief, I didn’t look like me anymore.55 I guess I didn’t feel like me anymore either.
I said, “I know we’re short. I mean, I’m short. But I did have enough money—honest. It’s just that I fell when I was running to get here. See?”
I lifted my leg way up to the counter so he could see the hole in my pants and my bloody knee.
“And I was bleeding really badly so I had to use some of my bus money for Band-Aids.”
By now, he wasn’t even looking at me. He was busy filling out some form and I thought, How rude! But I didn’t let it show.
I just kept going. “I had to use the whole box. It was that bad! I was even getting a little light in the head. Probably because I lost so much blood. Or maybe just because it was so gross. It really was terrible.”
He looked at me and sighed and pushed the form he’d been filling out across the counter.
“One round-trip ticket to Bousfield. That’ll be $78.37.
I’ll take the sixty-three cents out of my donut money.”
“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” I started squealing like I’d just guessed how much the do-it-yourself face-lift kit cost on The Price is Right.
“No, thank you,” he said, patting his belly and smiling for the first time. “It’ll do me good to have one less sour-cream old-fashioned. Next!”
Giving up a donut for a complete stranger! People are so nice. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that.
55 And I was hoping that none of those people who had been running after us would think so either.