Harriet Beamer Takes the Bus

by Joyce Magnin

  Mrs. Caldwell busted into such a loud laugh that she startled Henry and nearly made him choke on a slice of apple.

  Humphrey yowled and wagged his tail. He spun around three times and yowled once more.

  “Why is my mother’s wild trip across the country funny?” Henry asked. He felt a little hurt.

  “It’s not only funny,” Mrs. Caldwell said, “it’s genius.”

  “Genius?”

  Mrs. Caldwell chewed and swallowed, all the time looking straight at Henry. He thought she was sizing him up or something. “Yes, dear, did she want to move?”

  Henry shook his head. “I … I suppose. She’s coming.”

  “Seems to be taking her time.”

  “Ahhh, so you think this is her way of …”

  “Avoiding the inevitable. Feeling young again? Making one last stand?”

  “Oh, gee, I never looked at it that way. So maybe I should just let her do it her way? She did say she wanted to see the country.”

  “Well, then, she knows what she’s doing. She’s a grown woman. She’ll ask for help if she needs it.”

  “I’m worried she’ll get lost or meet with some unsavory individuals.”

  “She might. But that could all be part of the adventure. I admire her.”

  Henry finished his pie. “Thank you, Mrs. Caldwell. Maybe I need to look at this from her perspective.” He scraped the side of the fork across the plate, getting the last of the cinnamony apple goodness.

  Mrs. Caldwell sliced a second piece for Henry. “Here you go. Now, tell me what else is on your mind.”

  Humphrey made a noise. He wagged his tail. He even twirled around and chased his tail just for good measure.

  “Would Humphrey like some pie?” asked Mrs. Caldwell. “Or is that not allowed?”

  “I can’t see a problem with pie. My mom feeds him donuts.”

  “Your mother sounds like a woman I can be friends with,” Mrs. Caldwell said as she gave Humphrey some pie. She looked into Henry’s eyes and said, “I’m glad we talked about your mother, but I get the feeling your heart is still heavy. You want to tell me?”

  Henry swallowed. “Writer’s block.”

  Mrs. Caldwell smiled. “Don’t know much about writer’s block, but if it’s anything like constipation, well, that I know about.”

  Henry laughed. “As a matter of fact, there are similarities.”

  “Well, it just seems to me, dear,” Mrs. Caldwell continued, “that the best thing for you to do is go back to your desk and start writing. Even if you don’t write what you like I suspect the good words will find their way out. Sitting here with me — as delightful as that is — won’t get that book written.”

  “I know. You’re right.” Henry eyed the remaining pie in the tin.

  Mrs. Caldwell laughed. “Oh, go on, take the rest of the pie. Maybe it’ll help you figure out your story or whatever you writerly types do.”

  “You sure?” Henry said. “I mean, I don’t want to take the last of your pie.”

  Mrs. Caldwell grabbed a box of plastic wrap from a drawer. “Yes, you do. And that’s okay. I always have pie.”

  Henry and Humphrey said their good-byes to Mrs. Caldwell.

  “Come on, Humphrey,” Henry said with a tug on the leash. “Let’s go home. I think I have an idea that will work for my ending.”

  Humphrey barked and looked up at Henry as if to say, “I believe in you too.”

  Henry leaned down and patted his side. “You’re a good dog.”

  Chapter 9

  AROUND 9:00 P.M.THE CRESCENT LINE TRAIN PULLED INTO the Charlottesville, Virginia, station. Harriet especially enjoyed the sensation and sound of the train slowing down as the driver blew the horns. It was like they wanted the whole world to know that they had arrived. Harriet was beginning to develop a fondness for train stations and was starting to feel like a veteran train traveler, like maybe she should even get some sort of badge for her adventuring. She decided to take the time to visit the ladies room — fortunately she didn’t need to get off the train.

  The bathroom on the train was nicer than the one at the Baltimore Station — cleaner, brighter, and smelled a whole lot better. A bit like lilacs. But on her way back to her seat, the evening took a more interesting turn. She noticed the young woman she saw earlier at Union Station. She was sitting with her head against the window, and if Harriet was correct she had been crying.

  Harriet immediately asked forgiveness for jumping to conclusions about her earlier that day. She had obviously mistaken her for a surly, young … well, Harriet would never actually use the word.

  “Hello,” Harriet said. “I remember you from the station.”

  The young woman looked up at Harriet.

  “I still don’t know about sneakers,” she said.

  “No, that’s okay. I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been crying.”

  The woman looked away, out the window. But Harriet could still see her reflection in the glass thanks to the train lighting.

  Harriet sat in the seat next to her. “Now listen. I might have only had one son and not much experience with girls — unless you include my daughter-in-law. But I can always tell when someone’s been crying.”

  The woman sighed. “Please, leave me alone.”

  “I will, I will,” Harriet said. “But I want you to know I’m a good listener. At least that’s what Martha, she’s my friend back home — in Philly — said. I’m going to California because my son and his wife said … oh dear, I’m rambling.”

  That was when the young woman smiled. “Do you always do this … tell your life story to strangers?”

  Harriet let go a slight chuckle. “Only the nice ones.”

  The young woman smiled.

  “How old are you, dear?” Harriet asked.

  “Twenty-three.”

  “What a great age. You have your whole life ahead of you. And I suppose you have a name. I’m Mrs. Beamer. Mrs. Harriet Beamer.”

  “Tess.”

  “Tess. A very pleasant name.”

  “I suppose,” Tess said with a sniffle.

  “And it suits you just fine. Anyhoo, where you headed?”

  Tess shook her head and then leaned against the window. “Home.”

  “Home? Why, I would think that would make you happy. Isn’t that what Dorothy said, ‘There’s no place like home'?”

  “Not exactly. I … I should be on my way to Bermuda.”

  “Bermuda? Well, honey, if that’s where you’re going, you are definitely on the wrong train.”

  Just then the train started to move, and the man who was originally sitting next to Tess returned. He stood, looking annoyed.

  “Excuse me,” he said, “but I think you’re in my seat.”

  Harriet looked up. He was tall, stocky, and wearing a three-piece suit with the tie loosened and crooked.

  “Oh dear, I want to keep talking to Tess. You can take my seat. It’s just over there.” She pointed. “It’s a window.”

  The man looked from Harriet to Tess and then back again. “Fine. Just let me get my magazine. Uh, you’re sitting —”

  Harriet moved to the side and reached under her bottom. “I’m sorry. I sat on your Time.“ She handed it to the man. “You’re a nice man.”

  The man snatched it and made his way down the aisle toward Harriet’s seat.

  “Now, where were we? Oh, yes, Bermuda …”

  Tess continued to peer out the window, making Harriet feel that perhaps it would be best if she went back to her seat. She still had quite a ways to go before Greensboro.

  “Okay, dear,” Harriet said. “Sometimes you just don’t feel like talking. I can certainly understand that. I’ll just go back to my seat and send old Crooked Tie back.”

  Tess turned back to Harriet. “I’m sorry. It’s … it’s just that I should be on my … my —” Tess busted into a flood of tears — “honeymoon.”

  “Oh dear, oh dear me,” Harriet said. She grabbed Tess’s hand and patted
it. “What in the world happened?”

  “Gordon, that’s my fiancé's — ex-fiancé's — name, he … he left me, stranded, at the church.”

  “You mean he just left?” Harriet felt her dander rising but knew that keeping her cool was important under this kind of circumstance.

  “No. He never showed up. We held up the ceremony for two hours … two hours!”

  “This is just so awful,” Harriet said. She continued to tap Tess’s hand. “Are you sure something didn’t happen? I mean considering the circumstances, maybe he was in a car wreck or … something.”

  “My daddy called all the hospitals, the police and …”

  “I’m sorry. It would have been better to have a broken and bleeding fiancé lying in a ditch than no fiancé at all.”

  Tess cried a bit harder and wiped her eyes on a balled-up napkin she had been clutching. Harriet managed to get a closer look at it. It was yellow and had the words Tess and Gordon printed on one side. She sighed.

  “Everybody just sat there — waiting and waiting. My Aunt Irene did her best to entertain, but she can only juggle for just so long, and then Uncle Cyrus sang a duet with the pastor; they sang My Girl, and it was terrible, and then my maid of honor, Kicky — Kicky Strassmeyer — told a few jokes; they were pretty funny and then …”

  Harriet patted Tess’s hand a smidge harder. “I think I understand.”

  “I’m sorry. I babble when —” she snuffed back tears and snot — “when I’m upset.”

  “Well, if you don’t mind me asking, how come you’re traveling alone?” Harriet needed to take a deep breath. Speaking to strangers about such personal matters was not something she did on a regular basis … or ever, really. But there was something about being on the train that made it possible to poke her head out of the shell.

  “I just wanted to. Dad and Mom went on ahead. They’ll meet me at the station, I suppose, even though I’d rather … I’d rather just —”

  Harriet put her hand up. “Now listen here, if you are about to say the word die, I am going to have to tell you a thing or two. You have your whole life to look forward to. Twenty-three, well, you’re barely out of diapers.”

  Tess smiled. “But why would Gordon do that?”

  “Now that I’m sure I can’t answer with any amount of certainty, although I have heard that cold feet can get pretty frosty. I’m sure that’s just what it is. He’ll be back the second he realizes what a fool he’s been.”

  “But he would have called or texted me. It’s not like Gordon.” Tess reached under her thigh and produced her cell phone. “Nothing. Not one text from him.”

  Harriet gazed out the window at the lights on the track and the lights through the trees whizzing past faster than anything. “This train is moving awful fast now. We must be on a nice straight track. But I’m sure there’s going to be a curve coming up soon, and the conductor will have to slow down to get safely around.”

  Harriet stopped patting Tess’s hands and turned her face toward her. “Just like life, don’t you think? We have times when we move fast, all seems like smooth sailing, then God throws us a curve and we got to slow down, way down sometimes. I think this is just a curve in your track, sweetie. It’s gonna get straighter again.”

  Henry ripped lettuce while Prudence formed hamburgers for the grill.

  “I’m glad you’re home this evening,” Henry said. “We can celebrate.”

  Prudence rinsed her hands and dried them on a soft yellow towel. “Celebrate? Did you hear from your mother?”

  “No, no, I wrote some words today. Good words. Humphrey and I went to visit Mrs. Caldwell, and she helped me … well, along with her apple pie.”

  Prudence smiled into Henry’s eyes. “I’m proud of you. Maybe you should be working then and not ripping lettuce into tiny pieces. Here, let me do that.”

  Henry looked into the bowl of lettuce. “Oh, yeah, look at that. I was distracted. Thinking about my novel.”

  “That, believe it or not, is the best news I’ve heard all day.”

  “The case not going well?”

  Prudence sliced a tomato. “We hit a snag.”

  “I’m sorry, Pru. But you always win, you know.”

  “I know, I know, but this time … I’m not so sure.”

  That was when Henry’s cell phone jingled.

  “I’ll go get these burgers on the grill,” Prudence said. “I bet it’s your mother.”

  She was right. Henry pulled his cell from his pants pocket.

  “Mother,” he said. “Where are you?”

  “Oh, Henry,” Harriet said. “Must you start every conversation with that line?”

  “Okay, okay, how are you, Mom?”

  “That’s better. I’m fine. How are you … and Prudence?”

  “We’re fine.”

  “Humphrey?”

  “He’s fine too, Mom. I think he made a friend. A very tall and elegant white poodle.”

  “Oh, goodie, I was hoping he’d meet some friends. Poor thing though, all he can do is look.” She chuckled.

  “Mom. Where are you?”

  Humphrey ambled into the kitchen. Humphrey danced a little jig around Henry’s feet.

  “Mother, will you say hello to your dog?”

  “Certainly. Put him on.”

  Henry held the phone inside one of Humphrey’s long, floppy ears. “Say hello to Mommy.”

  Humphrey only sat on his hunches looking up at Henry with soft, sad eyes.

  “Go on, say hello.”

  Henry took the phone. “He’s not talking, Mother. You say something to him.” He held the phone to Humphrey’s ear again.

  “Hello, Humphrey. Harriet misses you.”

  Humphrey took a breath and howled.

  “Oh, dear Lord,” Henry said, “the dog is talking to her.”

  “I’ll see you soon. Now put Henry back on.”

  “Now where are you?” Henry said into the phone as Humphrey tried his best to get his attention.

  “I’m on a train in Virginia, on my way to Greensboro, North Carolina. I’m still just tickled to pieces that I can make a telephone call on a train. Your daddy would be so amazed.”

  “Yes, it is amazing, but Mom, Greensboro? That’s still a very long way from here. Are you —” Henry stopped. “That’s good Mom. Maybe you’ll find some nice salt and pepper shakers.”

  “Really? You mean you’re okay with this now? I mean I did make it all the way to Virginia by myself. You changed your tune all of a sudden.”

  “Let’s just say a friend helped me understand a little better.”

  “That’s nice dear — for both our sakes.”

  “It doesn’t mean I won’t worry about you.”

  “That’s okay, you can worry like the fussbudget you are, but not too much.”

  “Do you know where you’ll be staying?”

  “Oh, not yet. But I’m sure I’ll find a nice place.” Harriet said. “My fancy new Droid phone has all the places to stay inside of it somehow, the internet I suppose.”

  “You got a Droid? Mother I’m jealous. I can’t get one yet.”

  “Henry, would you mind if we hung up now? I’m kind of tired; it’s been a long day, and I feel a little headachy.”

  “Okay, get some rest tonight and keep in touch.”

  Henry looked at his phone. “How come she gets a Droid?”

  “Was that your mother?” Prudence said when she returned to the kitchen.

  “Yep. She’s in Virginia.”

  “Virginia. Did she say what part?”

  “No, but she’s on her way to Greensboro. She’s making progress.”

  Prudence smiled. “I’m proud of her. A seventy-two-year-old woman traveling all alone across the country collecting salt and pepper shakers as she goes.”

  Henry laughed. “It is kind of funny. I just worry, you know. She’s … she’s my mom.”

  Prudence smirked. “I know but —”

  “But what?”

  “Oh,
sometimes I still get upset about my own parents and wish —”

  Henry took Prudence in his arms. “I know. What your mother did was hurtful, but your Dad did a great job raising you alone.”

  “I don’t even know if she’s still alive. I mean she’d be the same age as your mother.”

  “Maybe we can try and find her someday.”

  Prudence kissed Henry. “Maybe. But listen, I’m proud of you too, for taking the high road and trusting Harriet.”

  “I have to, Pru. I owe her after what I did — selling the business and being a writer when she wanted me to follow —”

  “But you had to follow your heart. I’m sure she understands. Maybe now more than ever. Or maybe that’s what she’ll figure out along the way.”

  Prudence scraped the sliced tomatoes into the salad bowl.

  Henry looked at her for a second. “You know, Pru, I’ve been thinking about something else too. Maybe we should tell her about, you know, what happened …”

  Prudence looked away a moment and then back at Henry. “I wish you wouldn’t keep bringing this up. I don’t want to talk about it — not even to your mother. I’m not ready.”

  “But Pru,” Henry said. His voiced turned tender. He touched her cheek. “We lost our babies. You need to talk about it — someday.”

  Prudence nestled her head into Henry’s shoulder. “I’m not ready. I know I keep saying that but … but it still stings too much.”

  Henry lifted Prudence’s chin. “I know.”

  Prudence stepped away and picked up a small stack of mail.

  “I’ll get the burgers,” Henry said. “But I think we’re gonna have to when she gets here. She really wants a grandchild and —” Henry moved closer to Prudence and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Maybe if she knew we lost two babies last year, she won’t be so … so vocal about wanting grandchildren.”

  Harriet’s train pulled into the J. Douglas Galyon Depot in Greensboro, North Carolina, around midnight. Although she enjoyed the ride she decided she was through with trains for a while and that the local bus would suit her fine for a bit.

  She had been writing to Max when she arrived.

  Maybe I’m more useful than I thought, Max. Tess seemed really interested in what I had to say. I think God was the real conductor on this train.