Page 31 of The Second Chance Bus Stop
‘Sophia, you were left in a cold car, alone, while your parents watched your brothers’ hockey practice? Just because you rocked in your seat?’
‘You may have noticed that I always keep the seat warmeron,’ she says, her head bent. I had, actually. The full eight hours the light was on. The bright red light on the side of her chair in July. I’d assumed it was a mistake until she pressed on it again once it got down to one bar. I swallow hard. I decide to always, always make sure that seat is warm for her.
‘Listen, it wasn’t so bad. I only really panicked if any of the kids from my class came past.’ She shrugs.
‘Why?’
‘Because they would bang on the windows and write swear words on them if there was frost. I had the doors locked from the inside and would just close my eyes. Though, not everything goes away just because you can’t see it.’
Well, no. And I sense that this hasn’t ever gone away for Sophia. I notice that I’ve held my breath as I’ve listened to her.
‘How about an area near the woods, away from the centre of town? So that it’s a little quieter is all, less crowded. Would that be okay? We can just google it if you don’t know any.’
‘That would be fine,’ she replies, and I think that I don’t need this to be fine, for some reason I need it to be better than fine for her.
We find a dirt road with a dead end and a large, gravelled area most likely used by trucks and tractors at the edge of where a forest begins, and I manage to park the van so it’s out of any passing vehicle’s way. I begin converting the inside, pulling the curtain between the cockpit and the cabin and opening the windows for fresh air. One side is lined with rectangular windows and once the bed is made they are the right height to look out of. I open the storage compartment above the bed and start getting the equipment out. She laughs as I haul it all out of the bag.
‘What’s wrong with mosquito repellent?’
‘Three cans of it?’
‘Three for the price of two. Don’t come to me when you’re being eaten to death at two in the morning.’
‘Why would I come to you at two in the morning?’ There it is again. She asks such direct questions.
‘I wouldn’t actually expect you to do that. I exaggerated to make a point.’
‘I see. I like how you explain everything immediately. Thank you.’
I’m taken aback slightly. Do others not take the time to answer her questions?
‘Anyway, you won’t be bothered by them since you’ll get the grand suite. The camper-van.’ I start unpacking the khaki-coloured tent for two and pushing the pegs into the ground. Mum never took me camping, but even I can erect this simple structure. Or least I thought so.Where is the instruction leaflet?
She doesn’t respond with ‘Are you sure’ or any other polite objection but simply nods.
‘I picked up some sheets the other day. Feel free to use them.’ I’d have bought something nicer if I knew she’d be joining me.
‘Oh great, I hadn’t even thought about that.’
‘Let me show you where it all is,’ I say, abandoning the tent and following her back to the van. I have to duck to go inside, and I notice she does too. If ever two people weren’t built for camping life, it would be us.
‘I’m not used to sleeping on blue sheets,’ she says. She looks around. It’s a relatively spacy cabin. ‘But I guess there’s not really any difference when you think about it. I won’t see the colour in the dark anyway.’
I show her which button releases the be, and it descends from the wall. There’s a two-seater sofa with a table for eating across from the bedroom, and the bed is surrounded by cupboards now that it’s down.
She’s started taking her items out of her luggage and I notice a drawing she’s set on the sideboard, much like the one I asked about in her shop.
‘Oh, that is one of my favourites,’ she says, following my gaze. ‘It’s where they have just picked up their new kitten.’
‘So the stick family have a pet.’
‘Lots of them.’
Mum has some of my drawings on her wall. They’re not particularly good ones, and I think she just randomly picked out a couple to display from the vast number I produced, because that’s what you’re supposed to do. And now they live forever on her walls in her house.
After she’s done unpacking, we go outside again.
‘I’ve got some beers and a generally well-stocked snack bag. Swedish petrol stations are ace. I mean, they even sell hot dogs. Would you like something?’
