By Rachael Memraj

"Oh, I remember the rest... It's fine if you don't." she said, smiling at Jeremy. "Let's see, I was downtown, visiting my sister Amber, I'd finished visiting her, and was taking the bus back home. I remember the bus driver because he was kind enough to wait for me."

She was running, the bus was about twenty feet away. Suddenly, she gasped and clutched her side, with a grimace on her face. She continued walking towards the bus, but she had to cross the road, and the lights were red. She sighed, and hung her head, but then smiled as the driver sat there and didn't move. He was waiting for her! When the lights turned green again, and the walk icon for pedestrians came on, she ran across smiling at the driver. "Thank you!" she said.

"You're welcome," he replied, giving a toothy smile.

"I'll have the fare just now, ok?" she said, "I have to find the damn tokens in my purse..."

"Do you remember what the driver looked like?" asked Jeremy.

"He was a white man, probably in his thirties, and was nice."She picked up a glass of mango juice and took a sip. "Do you have anymore questions before I continue?"

"No"

The driver smiled, and looked straight ahead and drove off. "So, you enjoy driving?" she asked, putting the token into the place.

"Of course not!" was the immediate response. She grinned at this. Looking at her, he smiled, and said, "I wouldn't be doing this if I hated it you know..."

"I should hope so!"

At the next stop, two passengers got on the bus. A man and a woman, brown skinned, probably from India. After paying their fare, they both sat down next to her, on the right side of the bus, even though there were empty seats behind the driver. She looked at them, "Nice cast" and nodded, while looking down at the cast on the man.

"You're pretty cute, you know," he said, putting his hand around her shoulders.

She tensed up, and looked over at his partner, who had a hurt look on her face. "I think you're ugly," she responded immediately, looking at the man as if he had slugs crawling all over his body. "Move your arm, or else I'll break it."

He tightened his hold, "I'd like to see you try!" he said, and raised and lowered his eyebrows.

She grabbed a hold of his hand, and bent his thumb backwards. He screamed. "Is this ok for you? Or should I move higher up?" she asked softly.

He threw up his hands and moved to the far back of the bus. The other passengers and the driver looked as if they were holding in their laughter, and had strained faces. The woman he was with immediately moved over, and sat next to her. "Do you think you can find out whether or not he likes me?" she said, sitting up straight, and putting both hands on her knees, while looking directly at her.

Any traces of a smile she once had were gone from her face. "You like womanizing creeps like him?"

The woman nodded, and gave a small smile.

She grabbed the woman's shoulders, and looked into her eyes. "I can't!" Then she kissed the woman on the cheek, leaving behind a huge smudge of lipgloss. "You're too cute to waste on him. Find someone better!"

At this point, I should mention that I think I fell asleep," she said.

"You think?"

"Well, there I was,looking at the driver, and then suddenly he turned into a black woman! Since I figure that he wasn't a shapeshifter like in X-men, then I just fell asleep and they switched out drivers."

She twiddled with her thumbs, "I hope he didn't consider me rude!"

"It's fine, just continue please," Jeremy said, letting his shoulders droop, and putting his hand over his eyes.

For the black woman, I wasn't too sure what to say to her, because, I may have talked to her in my sleep. So I just smiled at her. However, she didn't respond. It might have been because she wasn't even looking at me.

"You Jamaican?"

"Why? because I'm black?" the driver asked, tightening her fingers over the steering wheel, and making the bus move a bit faster.

"What? No!" she replied, shaking her head. "Because of your red, green, and yellow wristband!"

The driver looked down, and smiled. "Caribana. I actually grew up here, and neither me, nor my parents were Jamaicans. I love the Caribbean food and the music and the dancing though."

She smiled back at the driver. "That's nice. I don't really like the music though.. it hurts my ears. And I can't dance at all!"

"What? You don't like the music? What music do you like then?"

"I don't know really. It all sounds the same to me, I tune out the voices in the music after a while, and then sometimes I even forget that it's there! It just becomes background noise."

"Oookaaay then," the driver said.

"Yes"

"Well, the next thing I know, my driver drove right through them. Because the bus was so high, the metal boxes melded with the bus, and the resulting force pushed me out of the bus. The bus continued through the metal boxes, and went on without me. THAT STUPID DRIVER! I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT SHE WOULD DO THAT TO ME JUST BECAUSE I TOLD HER I DIDN'T LIKE MUSIC."

"What?" he asked, jumping to his feet. "How the hell can a bus move through metal? What about the driver? Was she fine? What happened?"

"Oh, well you know... The drivers are always fine! They're made of the same material the bus and the aluminum boxes overhanging the roads are, you know."

"What? That doesn't make sense!"

"YES, IT DOES!" she yelled, panting. "Look, can I continue? I told you that I'd tell you everything that happened that day."

"Fine," he said, sitting down again. "One question though. Were you smoking anything or taking any recreational drugs?"

She narrowed her eyes, and pinched her lips, looking at him as if he were oozing slime all over the chair and carpet. "No."

She walked to the next bus stop, and waited for the next bus. When it came, she glared at the driver. "Who do I talk to about filing a complaint against drivers?"

The driver, who was smiling before, dropped his smile, and asked, "Who made you angry?"

"This stupid woman driver!" she said, depositing a new fare. "We were talking, and then she did the metal box thing and pushed everyone out the bus, and then just drove off!"

"Wait, you don't have to deposit a new fare if it's that!"

She looked down. "Looks like I already did. Oh well... I don't care anymore. I was just visiting my sister.. and now I have a splitting headache."

The driver gave her a tightly controlled smile, and waved his hand for her to move behind the white line.

"You have to move back you know! It's dangerous... it blocks my vision, and you could pitch out the window and ruin your nice white headband."

"What? I'm not wearing a headband! I never wear one. They give me headaches! I don't even remember putting one on today!" she said, frantically moving her hands to her head.

"The thing was, the headband felt like lace. I felt around, and part of it was wet," she said, taking another sip of mango juice from the tall glass. "And when I removed my hands, they were partly covered in blood..."

"And then?" Jeremy asked, sitting on the edge of his seat.

"I wiped them off on my jeans, went to the back of the bus, and just went home. Didn't talk to anybody else," she said.