Page 18 - Contrast1977Aprilv20n2

carry me and then let me be born again through its silly
door.

The bus was almost full, but I was conscious of L~e
ernpt.i.ne ss of the seat behind my own . This, because I dread-
ed that someone would sit there. In theatres, for example,
I went through extensive and er:>barrassing maneuvers to
escape that which I abhorred: sitt.ing just before a
stranger. nowever thrilling or touching the film, I could
not rid myself of the sensation that the anon1~ous being
behind was carefully inspecting the contours of my head,
sneering at. my ears, counting the hairs and tracir..gtheir
flow and origins. So I would get up (horribly er:-ibarrassed,
suspecting he knew 'why) and go back for a squirt of water,
which I usually did not desire, and cautiously reseat my-
self. eften it happened that I would have to repeat all
this, because people never tired of coming in late. Their
power over me was tremendo"c1s, I tell you! But as long as
I didn't let on that the forces driving r:-£ from my seat
belonged to ther:1,then it wasn't so bad. It was ir:1portant
to look casual, to look like someone else.

On Snyde' s Bus, of course I L~e si t.uat.i on was different.
I was helpless. !.o. one could simply get up and reseat
himself w.i t.hout; letting on, providing G'1e "offender" with a
DOQDdless source of contempt for the remainder of the trip.
When getting off, he would make sure to give you a speciaJ.
look, one that said, "Without even blowing, I made you move
to another spot where I couldn't smell you,fly."

People had stopped their incessant getting on the bus
(clump! cllli~p!clumpt! pause. pause. Shove~ ow!) ~~d I was
bec i nn i.nq to think I might get away with it this time. The
driver stood just outside the folding door, fiddling with
his papers and smoking, and I was sure t.ha t; each furious,
scat·let drag on his cigarette would be his last; dlat he
would toss it down and clump up the stairs and start the
crummy bus and take us all away. -- But then, guess, he
only lit another, tucking the packet back in his breast.-
pocket, with a short smoker's tap to make sure. And puffed
on desperately, shuffling papers. He was one, that driver,