Technically, I was still close to The Society and needed to make sure I didn’t look the part in case the Keeper came looking. I wasn’t sure how much he interacted with the outside world.
Wisps of hair came down in my face and I decided to change my hairstyle. Exchanging my bun hairdo for a pony tail, I tried to finger comb through the mess the rain had caused earlier.
This was it. This was the moment I joined the other world.
Taking a deep fortifying breath, I emerged from the safety of the trees. The first thing I needed to do was get on a bus to Fayetteville, Arkansas. I wasn’t sure what town I was currently in. To the right was a building that had a neon sign. A vacancy sign flickered on and off under the name of the place.
Outside the door at the front of the building, a man stood while puffing on something. I think he was smoking what they called cigarettes.
My mom told me a lot about the outside world during my secretive tutor sessions. Girls were no longer educated after the age of sixteen in The Society. Mom had told me she had been taught in secret and wanted to do the same for me. Lie. I couldn’t think about all that right now. Instead, I needed to focus on my task at hand—find the bus station and get to Arkansas.
Pushing my shoulders back, I confidently approached the man. “Hi, I was looking for the bus station. Would you mind pointing me in the right direction?”
He inhaled deep as he looked at me. My heart raced a little faster. He exhaled and a foul-smelling smoke left his mouth. I refrained from coughing as he asked in a gravelly voice, “Where are you from?”
I had to think quickly. This place was close to The Society. I was heading south, but on the off chance, I’d say I was going north. “Alabama. I’m on my way north to Montana. I was going to check out the bus schedule before getting a room.”
I hoped that the vacancy sign meant that there were rooms available here and I wasn’t making a fool out of myself.
He threw the cigarette down, stomped it with the toe of his shoe, and raised his hand to the right. I had to refrain from picking it up. Littering was something highly frowned upon in The Society. “Umm, sure. It’s down the road three blocks. There’s a counter inside the 7–11 where you can check the schedule.”
Readjusting the backpack on my shoulder, I responded, “Thank you.”
“Sure thing.”
The man turned to go back inside, letting the screen door slam close behind him. As I headed toward the direction he pointed, I kept darting my eyes back and forth, making sure I wasn’t being followed.
Still having no idea what town I was in, I trudged the three blocks. The parking lot had black spots everywhere from what I assumed was from the cars.
I walked inside the 7–11 and saw a counter to the right with a sign.
NEVADA, MISSOURI BUS STOP
BUY BUS TICKETS HERE
I had at least one answer, the town I was in. A foreign food smell, that was on the verge of stinking, filled the air. Various food type packets were on metal shelving units. A large refrigerator sat to the back with small bottles of different kinds of drinks. I tried not to gawk like an outsider and act as if I had seen this a million times before. There was one thing for sure, I was out of my depth and needed a plan to get up to speed.
Approaching the counter, a man with black hair and metal hoops sticking in his eyebrows stood and stared at a book. I cleared my throat politely. “Excuse me, when does the next bus to Fayetteville, Arkansas leave?”
He clicked on a board with letters on it and looked at a box. Whatever the contraption was had me fascinated as different screens flashed across. “It’ll be here in about fifteen minutes for a ten-minute stop. Do you want a ticket?”
“Yes, please.”
More clicking happened. Mundanely he gave me more information. “It’s fifty-five dollars. The ride takes about three and a half hours. The bus should get you there by seven a.m.”
Sitting my backpack on the counter, I hoped I was able to figure out how to use money. I knew the basic principle of money and how it worked in theory, but applying everything was a completely different story. “I’ll take one ticket.”
I focused on looking through the money. The beating of my heart reached an all-time high as I looked at the money. I needed to stay inconspicuous.
Within the front pocket, I found three twenties. Surely, I would get five dollars back. Before I said anything, I’d wait to see if it was an automatic response to give it back before I asked anything. Handing the money to the man who looked utterly bored, he clicked some more buttons, then a drawer popped out that was filled with more money. Placing my twenties in the drawer, he took out a five. This made logical sense to me. I’d be able to handle the money aspect.
“Here’s your ticket to get on the bus. Hand it to the driver when you get on.”
I took a piece of paper that had all the details of the trip. “Thank you. I appreciate it. Do you by chance have a restroom I could use?”
The guy pulled out a small rectangular thing that had a screen and typed on it. Clearly, he was disengaged from the conversation since the sale had been made. “Yeah, there’s one in the back for the public.”
“Thanks.”