Beyond the Moon

The silence throughout the bumpy bus ride made him feel like he didn't belong on it. That was mostly because he was so used to glass shattering or his father stumbling around in the night, heedlessly loud. He rarely slept well. His body was often tensed up, trying to prepare itself, just in case the night would be a bad one for his father. When it was, he'd hear the door creak open and he'd hold his breath, wondering where the punches would land that time. Tonight's silence was beginning to calm him and organize his thoughts.

Among those plentiful thoughts was one in particular that kept popping out at him: Jamie's head, bouncing with the bumps, would hurt in the morning if he didn't change her position, because his shoulder already throbbed. He gently took her shoulders pushed her off of him. He reached into his backpack and grabbed a balled up t-shirt he'd stuffed in there when his plan was finalized. He folded it thickly and gently pulled Jamie back toward him, slipping the shirt between her head and his shoulder without waking her.

He let his head fall back into the headrest and closed his eyes. He hadn't called Uncle John before they'd left the house. Then again, Jonathan Bradly wasn't someone you called in the middle of the night. He'd answer the phone with a, "What the hell are you calling my house for at this hour?" instead of a simple and safe "Hello?" Uncle John would never lay a finger on his family, though. He loved Billy and Jamie. His hugs were the feeling of being wrapped in a warm comforter after being pulled out of a snowstorm.

Just when he felt calm enough to fall asleep, the bus jerked to a stop. His eyes popped open, and Jamie's head popped off of his shoulder. He looked at her, hoping she'd wake up herself, but her eyes remained closed, and her head fell back against the seat. He sighed. He hated awaking people. It was something his mother had taught him not to do since he was little. "When's someone's sleeping, Billy, they're as far away from reality and as close to peace as they can get. Unless you see them shaking or hear them screaming, let them sleep so they'll feel healthy and happy in the morning." He looked at the bus driver, confused. This couldn't be their stop. They hadn't been on the road long enough. He moved up to the front of the bus, noticing along the way that all the other seats had emptied.

The bus driver was a friendly old man who greeted him with a smile, hidden under his thick mustache but present in his eyes. "Hello son, I believe you'll have to get off here."

"Uh, where are we? I thought this was a direct ride. My ticket says it will take me all the way to Chicago." The driver looked at him, nodding the whole time.

"Oh, you'll still get to the windy city, but it ain't gonna be on this bus. Just get off here and catch the next bus with this number. They know the situation. They don't let me drive that far these days. I'm close in age but not in wealth to retirement." Billy nodded in understanding at the man and turned back around to grab his things and his sister. He only had a backpack and she a small bag. He stuffed her cap and bag into his pack, so he'd have both arms free to carry her. He lifted her up gently, draping her right arm around his neck, and slipping his left arm under her left. He made sure he had hooked his right arm strongly under her knees before he started walking toward the exit. He grunted as he stood tall. His ribs still ached, and she wasn't such a tiny girl. Their father was big-boned and had passed that trait right on to Jamie. He himself was slender, like his mother. He whispered his thanks to the bus driver and carefully made it down the steps without waking up Jamie.

As the bus sped away, he examined their surroundings. The neighborhood wasn't the best-- trashcans flipped over and drunks banging on the windows of closed stores. He hugged Jamie closer to himself, and made his way to the bus shed. His arms were tiring, and he looked down at the bench. There was some broken glass on it, and some wads of gum stuck to random places. He groaned and hoisted his sister up higher in his arms, hoping the bus would hurry.

A bunch of teenagers, maybe his own age, walked by the shed staring him down. The guys were laughing and joking, smoking cigarrettes and trying to grab the butts of the girls with them. As the boys passed him, he saw their faces wrinkle in pseudo-sympathy and their mouths yell out, "Awwwwwwwwwwww." The girls lagged behind, sly smiles budding on their faces. They came up to the shed, kissing it and giggling at each other. "Heyy, handsome," one of the girls purred. As pretty as they were, he didn't like how cheap they were acting. Cassey. Cassey would never act like this. He lowered his eyes, not looking at them, hoping they wouldn't wake up Jamie. They frowned at him. "What's the problem? Are we not pretty enough for you?" He looked up, his hazel eyes wide.

"Uh, no. It-it's nothing like that. Just don't be so loud, please." He nodded toward Jamie. The girls looked at each other and laughed.

"Hey, you were the one who forgot about safe sex, asshole." He looked at them, confused. Jamie was six years old! If he were her father, he'd had to have had her when he was eleven. He tried to just ignore the dumb comments. He could see the bus approaching and sighed in relief. The girls stuck around, though, and he could hear the guys approaching from behind him.

"Why the hell are you hitting on our women, punk?" He swallowed, glancing at them nervously.

"Look, I don't want any trouble, ok? I wasn't hitting on anybody." The guys nudged each other, obviously not ready to leave him alone. One of them came an inch away from his face and stared into his eyes, seriously. He felt Jamie stir between them and took a couple steps back.

"What's wrong with you? Are you a fag or something?" The boy's voice was dangerously low. He looked away from the guy as the bus stopped in front of them. He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath the whole time they were taunting him. He let it out quickly, sucking in air through his nose.

"Look, it's nothing like that, man. I gotta go."
The guy stared at him a little longer, but they all moved out of his way. He got on the bus and, the driver gave him an apologetic smile.

"Sorry it took so long, hon. Are you two okay?" He just nodded and moved silently to the back of the bus. His arms ached and it felt wonderful to finally put Jamie down. That was a close one. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat. He didn't want to think about anything anymore. He just fell asleep.

His eyes slowly opened. He lifted his head and groaned. He'd slept with his neck tilted unnaturally and now it was killing him. Jamie was shaking him so hard he was starting to feel sick. "Stop Jamie. C'mon, I'm awake." Jamie wouldn't stop shaking him, though, smiling strangely as she kept at it. She suddenly burst into laughter. It wasn't her usual giggle-fit, either. It was a cunning sort of laugh he'd never heard from her before. She looked up at something and smiled, but he couldn't tear his eyes off her. What the hell was she doing? Her eyes were focused at something above them and then she spoke. "You wanted me to wake him up like that, right Daddy?" He gasped just as he felt hot breath on his forhead and his eyes focused on angry eyes turned towards him from the seat ahead of them.

He jerked up with an involuntary yell. The bus screeched to a stop, and he fell back against his seat. Three pairs of eyes from various sections of the bus were staring at him. He glanced down at the seat next to his and saw Jamie's eyes opening. He looked back at the rest of the bus. His mouth was dry, and his body was suddenly begging for a glass of water. He swallowed, embarrassed.
"Uh, sorry...bad dream." The eyes turned sympathetic and then disappeared altogether until all he saw were the backs of heads again. The bus driver sighed loudly and laughed.

"You scared me, kid. Your stop isn't for a while." He glanced out the window. It was still dark, probably five in the morning. Jamie had turned and was now looking up at him sleepily.

"What happened, Billy?" He smiled at her, stroking her hair. "Nothing, Jamie. Go back to sleep." She didn't seem too opposed to that idea and closed her eyes again.

When the bus stopped again, they were both awake and where they were supposed to be. Billy thanked the driver and hopped off, helping his sister descend to the sidewalk. Once off, they stepped into the bus shed for a few minutes so Billy could double check the address. They walked a few blocks, hand in hand. "Hey! I remember this place!" Jamie was beginning to sound excited.

"Good, kiddo. We're almost there." When they finally stood in front of the house, Billy was relieved to see his uncle's car in the driveway. It was a beat-up, brown chevy--the most beautiful thing he'd seen all night. He took a deep breath and walked up to the door.

He rang the doorbell twice, and waited for two minutes before he decided to ring again. No one answered. That was strange. Uncle John was a bachelor who had never been the owner of two cars. He wasn't hard of hearing, as far as Billy knew, and it was three in the afternoon. He couldn't have been in the shower. Jonathan Bradly was a man with a schedule even if he didn't have a place in the world to go. He got up at five in the morning, wrote an entry in his journal, made himself some tea, took a shower and went to buy a newspaper. Billy walked around to the back of the house, still holding Jamie's hand. As soon as they walked into the well-tended garden, Jamie screamed and he rushed up to the man writhing in the dirt.

"Oh my god, Uncle John!" His uncle stared up at him, his eyes not seeming to recognize his nephew's features. He was gasping for air and holding his chest. The back screen door was open and Billy told Jamie to hold on to his uncle's hand while he called 9-1-1. At least then he'd know they were going to stay and help him. He was about to rush into the house, when he saw the portable phone lying hidden in the grass, maybe a foot away from his uncle.

Once the paramedics arrived, urging the kids to move aside, Billy scanned the numbers listed for previous callers on his uncle's portable. His breath caught in his throat as the last number was sickeningly familiar. Whatever his father had said to his uncle might have triggered the onset of the heart attack. Billy literally gulped in fear. His father might be on his way at this very moment to look for him and Jamie. As he jumped into the ambulance to accompany his uncle to the hospital, he didn't concentrate on the wailing sirens, the frightened tears running down Jamie's cheeks, or even the severity of his uncle's condition. The only thing he could possibly think of was that they had no place to go if their uncle didn't make it.

Two hours later Billy had nodded off. His eyes opened to be level with a pair of knees. Apparently the doctor had walked up to them while he was asleep. He was tall, and there was a little blood on his scrubs. It took a while before Billy's eyes made it up to his face, which wore a smile. It was the biggest and best smile he'd ever laid eyes on...even if it really wasn't much more than a grin. "Hi there, Billy. I was just talking to your sister. Your uncle will be just fine. Give him some recovery time, but you called emergency just in time to prevent any serious cardiac damage."

Life was all about good timing, but even that couldn't always prevent bad times. Billy was exhausted, and Jamie was quiet, too. Suddenly the surgeon returned with an attractive, middle-aged woman at his side. They stopped for a second, and he pointed at the siblings. The woman nodded at him and walked up to them alone. She knelt down to look each of them in the eye and wore a fresh smile.

"Hi. My name is Terri. I just started dating your uncle recently, but he already means a lot to me. I don't know how to thank you for saving his life." Billy looked at her. She was wearing a fancy suit, and she must have noticed he noticed because she added, "Oh, I'm a lawyer."