The Whispering of Bitter Creek

Chapter 2

PART TWO: A FISTFUL OF SPIDERS

Grandma – you know, the one who was so desperate to see me – still hasn't arrived to pick me up.

The waiting room is bursting with a stifling, sticky heat and smells badly of sweat and old leather from the cracked, worn seats. The fan on the counter is broken and the air wheezes angrily out through the grate, like the constant furious buzzing of a horsefly. I press my nose against the grimy, grease-smeared window and stare out into the parking lot, scanning the road in and out of the bus station. I've called Mama four times already and every time she just told me to wait, Grandma is on her way, stop panicking.

But it's hard not to panic when I've been waiting an hour in a bus station waiting room, where the number of people holed up here is thinning out by the second. Right now, there's just me, a family of four and an old guy in the corner who keeps looking at me over the top of his newspaper. The family – a mother and father and their two small kids – laugh and joke around together and I'm fascinated by them, allowing a momentary break from the unease that sits uncomfortably in my gut.

A car rolls into the lot and I watch with dismay as the family gather their belongings together and head outside, embracing the driver who gets out to greet them. He sweeps the kids up into a big bear hug and swings them around and they all laugh. It's like watching an animated picture postcard and I'm torn between hating them all for being so happy and wishing I could be a part of it.

The old guy is still here. His hair is white and kind of messed-up and tufts of it stick out from his head in crazy angles. Buses and cars have come and gone but still he waits. Every now and then, he makes a big show of shaking the newspaper and it's then when he usually stares at me over the top, almost as if he is trying to catch my attention. I'm trying not to look at him because he reminds me a little of Grandpops and I wonder if his real face is a mass of wriggling worms under that old man mask.

I pull my case closer to my side and keep a tight grip on the handle, as if it contains my whole world and in a way, I suppose it does. Inside the large zipped pocket on the inside of the lid is my scrapbook. I couldn't leave it there for Mama to find. She's planning to move while I stay at Grandma's and said I'm to go join her when summer is done.

She really does think I'm plain stupid. I know that once summer is over, I won't be joining her. I'll be staying at Bitter Creek and Mama will be free to swallow those pills till she pukes and it won't matter none because she won't have no nosey kid watching her every move.

The only problem with her plan is that to stay at Bitter Creek, I've actually got to get there in the first place and right now Grandma is nowhere to be seen. Right now I've got more chance of being abducted by Old Man Worm-Face and making it to Bitter Creek in the back of his kiddy-snatcher truck.

I consider calling Mama one more time when an old Buick station wagon turns into the lot and pulls up a distance away from the building. Grandma doesn't get out but she honks the horn impatiently as if I'm the one who's late.

Behind me the old guy is folding up his paper and tucking into his bag. When he gets up and starts to head towards me, I grab the handle of my case and drag it along behind me, cursing under my breath when it flips and I end up dragging it on its side, scuffing the leather. I keep pulling it anyway because I need to get out, I need to get away before he reaches me and I feel the worms sliding over my skin.

I'm half-running now, still dragging the dang case across the lot as the sun burns the pavement. It's so hot out here that the heat crushes the air out of my lungs and I can already feel my vest and shorts sticking to my skin. Grandma just sits there, staring at me as I struggle towards her. I never expected Grandma to get out and swing me around, but I did expect a bear hug and one of those Grandma kisses you always wipe off your cheek when they turn away. I at least expected her to get out and greet me.