Page 33 of The Second Chance Bus Stop
‘Sure. I’m going to some archive in Jönköping. I’ll be back by four.’
He runs back out to get dressed and pack up the tent, which can’t be left here over the course of the day. I see him crawl into it and watch as his backside and legs are the last to disappear. When the flimsy fabric of the walls begins to shake and shiver, and I see the imprint of an elbow in it as he’s presumably wriggling a sweater over his head, I finally turn my back and prepare my bag for the long day ahead.
I’m supposed to meet the manager of the market at eight. Blade helps me unload all my equipment at the site and then drives off to do whatever he’s planning to do at the archive. I wanted to stop for a drink, like I usually would, but then it’s not Lina taking my order and I’m unsure how a barista in a local café would react when I ask for a warm milk or an adult-size babycino. So water will have to do.
At 8.02, still waiting for Vincent, I message Lina. I notice that Lina’s location has moved again. I pull the address up on Google Earth and see that it’s a block of apartments, three floors high with bikes tied out front. I wonder who lives there.
Me:Survived the first night. Don’t think he’s a serial killer, unless he’s the type that first befriends you with promises of snacks and friendship then strikes when you least expect.
Lina:Great snack taste usually correlates to great person in my opinion. You’re doing good.
Me:You’ve been in the same location three times now? What is happening?
Lina:Too early to say but may have exciting personal news to share...! Clue: coffee.
Me:Oh! How tentatively exciting!
I, on the other hand, have turned my dating app off for the duration of this trip. I can’t imagine socialising with anyone on top of the dose of human interaction I get from sharing my space with Blade. So everything is on hold for now, it seems. I focus on the positives: this will give me ample opportunity to finish my Autism book and unmask.
‘Sorry I kept you waiting.’
Vincent is tall and wide and seems louder out in the world than when I met him in my shop a fortnight ago. Everything seems louder when I leave my shop. Vincent is a dumb cane (Dieffenbachia), which, despite the name, is a lovely plant. Like it, he enjoys shady-to-bright indirect light. judging from the aggressive redness on his shoulder and would require little watering to thrive. He’d be sturdy and hard to kill off (literally, I’d imagine, and in conversation, I can testify).
‘We’re expecting close to a thousand visitors,’ he proclaims proudly and I swallow hard.Crowds.My favourite. If I work carefully I should be able to place everything so that I don’t have to attend during the busiest times. Vincent continues, a hand on his hip, the other pointing animatedly at different things.
‘Let me show you around before the exhibitors start to arrive. You have about three hours to get it all set up and then the décor needs to be taken down Sunday by ten, the council advised.’
‘Great. I will be on-site to do a daily check and readjust anything that needs it, but I’ve generally chosen flowers that will last.’
‘Nice little buzz here, we are expecting just shy of two thousand visitors.’ Oh. The forecast just increased. We should end this conversation before it jumps to ten thousand or I may start hyperventilating.
‘You can use the facilities here and someone should be here to open up every morning at seven thirty, even if it’s not myself every day.’
‘Thank you.’
I draw a breath of relief when he finally trots off and I can disappear, hands and head into the world of my flowers. I go and check that all my stock has arrived with the delivery I arranged before our departure and am pleased to see that it has. I like to source locally so have called up a couple of local shops to get their help filling out what I don’t have.
At five o’clock I’m relieved to leave the busy, loud, fairly smelly marketplace and walk the short distance to the supermarket. I spot Blade’s mobile home at the end of the car park, spread across two spaces lengthways. He’s standing outside, leaning against the RV, scrolling on his phone. His glances up and catches sight of me as I near, smiling very lightly at my familiar face.
‘Hey.’
‘Day okay?’ I ask.
He nods a brief yes, and we silently fall into step as we approach the supermarket.
Neither of us have a coin for a trolley, so we take a basket each.
I start shopping, grabbing things off the shelves, going for anything with a green sticker and trying to get as many colours in there from the fruit and veg section as I can, because I know it will turn very beige once I arrive at the ready-meal and breakfast aisle.
‘That’s pretty much all organic.’ Blade has so far put one item in his basket—a toast bread with the white and blue label which signals the supermarket’s own brand.
‘It’s meant to be good for you.’
‘Pretty sure it’s meant to be good for the planet.’
‘That too.’
‘It’s twice the price, though?’ He inspects the contents of my basket closer.
