Harriet Beamer Takes the Bus (20 page)

“Bib?”

“Oh, I found a cute bib while I was in the Smoky Mountains.”

“Now Harriet, you still aren’t bugging them about —”

“No, no. I’ll keep it till they’re ready.”

“Good girl. Now tell me what else you’re doing.”

“Hold on, room service is here.”

Harriet put Martha on speaker while she ate.

“I went to a snake-handling revival meeting in a tiny church with a preacher named Snake and his wife, Pearl.”

“Snake handling? What in the world?”

“It was just the most amazing thing I have ever seen. It just showed me the power of the Holy Spirit in a way I never knew possible. These people danced with rattlesnakes, Martha, living rattlesnakes. The people, young women too, danced and sang in words I never heard before.”

“Oh my goodness,” Martha said. “Were you scared?”

“A little at first, but then I felt calm and … hot mostly. It was hot in there.”

“Well, where are you now?”

Harriet looked around the luxury accommodations. She felt a twinge of shame that surprised her. “Well it’s a far cry from where I was last night. I’m in a king room at the DoubleTree in Collinsville, Illinois — almost to Saint Louis.”

“It sounds fabulous.”

“It is, but you know, isn’t it funny how God can show up in such a ramshackle place as that tiny church? I mean I felt him there, but here in all this luxury, well, it’s not the same.”

“God is with you in the hotel too,” Martha said.

“Oh, I know, but it’s different. Those people tonight felt God’s pleasure and have seen his glory in ways we only talk about.”

Harriet yawned deeply. “Oh dear, Martha, it’s almost eleven o’clock. I think I need to get to bed. I have to be on the road early.”

“Are you getting tired of traveling?” Martha asked.

Harriet had to think a moment “I’m not sure. Maybe. But I suspect it will look brighter in the morning. Especially after I get
my clothing figured out, and speaking of which, I better go put them in the dryer.”

The next morning, after deciding she could live with purple crew socks, Harriet boarded the 7:30 a.m. Collinsville Express to downtown Saint Louis. She paid her fare, took her seat, and winced. The bus had a peculiar odor that was not pleasant. And it was warmish inside, even though the weather outside was not particularly hot.

“Excuse me,” she said to the woman sitting in the seat in front of her once she got her luggage settled. But the woman didn’t respond. Harriet called again. “Excuse me.” This time she tapped her shoulder. The woman turned around. Her brow wrinkled at Harriet.

Harriet asked, “How long will it take to get to downtown? I need to go to the train station.”

The woman pointed to her ears and shook her head.

“Oh dear me, I am so sorry. I had no idea. You’re … you’re deaf.” Harriet’s stomach did a flip-flop from embarrassment.

The woman, who was about Harriet’s age, smiled and started to sign something that Harriet could not decipher. She made a mental note to learn American Sign Language just in case something like this ever happened again. It seemed only right.

Harriet apologized as best she could.

Twenty minutes later the bus rolled across the Mississippi River into Missouri. The sight was spectacular. She had never seen a river so big, so wide, or so busy. She thought there were hundreds of ships on it. But when she spied the Gateway Arch, it nearly stopped her heart. She had heard of the arch and knew they called it the Gateway to the West and all, and perhaps it was that notion that excited her. She was now officially on her way West.

The Collinsville Express bus pulled into the ultra modern-looking Gateway Station. The terminal was a big place, with every amenity a traveler could want or expect. There were counters for Amtrak, Greyhound, the MetroLink, and places to call for taxi cabs and limos. It was quite the busy transportation hub. The floors were shiny and clean. She saw two men working floor polishers, and other workers were picking up trash and emptying trash cans. There were kids with backpacks and older people pulling their luggage along. It was a far cry from the rural towns she had just been through. Just looking made her feel harried.

Just outside the doors she could still see the Gateway Arch. She knew people took elevator rides all the way to the top, but she had enough excitement last night and decided that was one adventure she should pass up.

After a brief discussion with a ticket clerk, Harriet decided to take the train into Kansas City. A nice, peaceful train ride sounded nice.

Harriet bought her ticket. She had about an hour to explore before her train arrived. She found a place to buy coffee, postcards, and a copy of
Better Homes and Gardens
, and a book called
The Edge of Grace
by some woman named Christa Allan because it sounded interesting.

Then she found a bench and sat. Her feet were tired, her back ached — probably from riding in the sidecar for so many hours — and she was definitely developing another headache. She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. She checked her phone and remembered that Henry had called. She fumbled around with the phone for a bit but finally got into her voicemail and listened to his message.

“Ahhh, he sounds good. I’m starting to look forward to seeing him.” That made her feel a trifle bit better. Harriet opened her notebook.

She went back and crossed her t’s and then took a breath. She could still hear the banjo and see the people dancing in her mind.

Harriet heard her train called.

The train, the Missouri River Runner, was long and comfortable. She found her seat with no problem, thanks to the nice conductor. He took her ticket and helped her settle in by placing her suitcase in the overhead compartment. He had a nice, reassuring smile. Harriet dropped her tote at her feet and leaned back in the wide comfortable seat. She had upgraded to business class even though she saw precious little difference between coach and what she had now. Maybe a bit more legroom.

H
ARRIET SETTLED INTO HER SEAT TO ENJOY THE RIDE.
T
HE
scenery was lovely. She might have even dozed a little because before she knew it the train was slowing down for a stop at Kirk-wood. It wasn’t a long stop. Harriet watched people move about on the platform. Everyone always has someplace to go.

Soon the train moved along slowly again and then gained speed as it traveled through some very beautiful countryside.

“This is Missouri wine country,” said the conductor.

“Wine country?” She never knew Missouri had wine.

A little while later the conductor made certain that folks knew they had just passed the infamous spot where Jesses James pulled his first train robbery. Harriet was unimpressed. Didn’t look like much more than a plot of brush-covered, dry land with a small stream running through it. But still, how many people can say they passed the spot of a famous train robbery?

And then right on schedule at 2:55 p.m. the River Runner pulled into the Kansas City station. She grabbed her tote bag but needed help from a nice, tall young man who snagged her suitcase from an overhead bin.

Henry was quiet over dinner. He had made a nice meal: steak,
salad, even a chocolate mousse dessert. Prudence lit candles and seemed in a good mood.

“Are you okay?” she asked as Henry pushed lettuce around his plate.

“Uh-huh.” He looked across the table at Prudence. “No. Actually.”

“Is it your mother? Did something happen.”

“No. She’s fine. Having the time of her life. It’s me … us.”

“Us?” Prudence placed her fork on her plate, crossed her arms, and sat back in the chair. “What about us?”

“I want a baby.”

Prudence sucked all the air out of the dining room and then stood. She walked into the living room. Humphrey, who had been sleeping under the dining room table, followed her. “Pru,” Henry called. “I think it’s time. Can’t we just discuss it?”

“But … what if I lose another child? I couldn’t take that.”

“What if you don’t? Seems more likely you won’t. The doctor said miscarriages are not uncommon the first time or the second time. There’s things the doctors can check for. Remember? That’s what your doctor said. I thought she was very positive.”

“But … my career. I’m about to be named to the city council and —”

“You can still do all that. Listen, my novel is going well. There’ll be more books. I’ll get a real job if I need too. You can still be a lawyer. I’ll be Mister Mom. Come on, Pru. Ready?”

Prudence sat on the sofa. “I don’t know. I’m scared. I can’t go through that again.”

“I was thinking, it might be weird but with my mother here it could help. A built-in babysitter. Maybe you can keep working.”

“Your mother
will
be happy,” Prudence said. “But … I don’t know.”

“Will you just consider it?”

“Okay. I’ll think and pray about it.” She looked away for a second. “If God still cares about it.”

Henry cracked a slow smile. “That’s all I ask. And of course God cares.”

Henry’s phone chimed.

“That’s Mother now,” Henry said.

“How can you tell? Your phone’s in your pants.”

“I changed the ring for her. Should I answer it or —”

“Yes, go ahead.”

“Mom,” Henry said. He wanted to ask her where she was but remembered what she said before.

“I’m in Kansas City, Missouri.”

“Okay, you’re getting closer.” Henry couldn’t keep his eyes off Prudence. She seemed to be crying. “Listen, Mom, I’m glad you’re okay. Any idea when you’ll get here?”

“Not sure. Henry, I’m having such a good time, but I got to tell you, riding in a motorcycle sidecar —”

“I heard about that,” Henry said.

“Oh, goody, then that nice officer called you.”

“Yes, he did, but listen Mom, I need to get off the phone. Prudence needs me.”

“Oh, okay, Son, tell her hi for me, okay?”

Henry closed his phone and dropped it into his pants pocket. “It’s nothing. Mom hitched a ride with a motorcycle-riding preacher, that’s all. I haven’t had the chance to tell you yet.”

Prudence shook her head. “Well, I’ll say this much, our baby will have the most exciting grandma.”

“So it’s yes, we can try?”

Prudence closed her eyes and leaned back in the sofa. “I didn’t say that. Not yet.”

“Okay, honey. What do you say we finish dinner?”

The Kansas City station reminded Harriet a little of the Baltimore Union Station. Much smaller but it still boasted high ceilings and huge rounded windows that could have worked just as well in a
cathedral. She pulled her suitcase along the clean, shiny floor, pausing long enough to look at the arrival and departures board. Harriet would need to decide on a next destination. On the train she had found an Amtrak route map and looked it over, but having never been any farther West than Pittsburgh for a funeral, Harriet really had no clue. There were still many cities between Kansas City and Grass Valley.

After a conversation with a young man behind the ticket counter, Harriet scheduled her next stop — Dodge City, Kansas. Sure, it was further south than she wanted, but the ticket person had said, “Ever been to Dodge City?”

“You mean as in Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday, and all those famous cowboys? I have cowboy salt and pepper shakers; one set’s the shape of a boot. The salt and pepper comes out the toes.”

“Yep. That’s what I’m meanin'. You could go there for a day or two. Maybe see the sights and then get back on the train and be on your way to Grass Valley once again.”

“Well, it sounds wonderful, young man.”

“Should I make it for Dodge City?”

“Yep, Dodge City here I come.” Of course Harriet had no idea that going to Dodge City would put her off course.

The young man, whose name tag read PHILIP, smiled. “You have a little bit of a wait. The train doesn’t leave until 10:45 tonight. It gets into Dodge at 5:25 tomorrow morning.”

“What?” Harriet said. “But, that means I’ll be spending the night on the train.”

“Well, sure. That’s not a problem is it? The trains are quite comfortable.”

“Oh, I know. But it’s just that … well, I guess that will be okay.” Harriet pulled her seeing glasses off and slipped on her cheaters to get a better look at the ticket. “It does say the train arrives in Dodge at 5:25 in the morning.” Harriet felt her heart race just a little. “But, no matter. I wanted to see the country. I wanted an adventure.”

“Good for you,” Philip said. “You can go see some sights around town or get something to eat. Be back at the platform by 10:30.”

Harriet glanced at one of the clocks in the station. She had nearly seven hours to wait. And that sounded fine — time enough to call Martha or read her new book or see some sights or sit and do nothing.

“Thank you, Philip.”

“You’re welcome. They call KC the city of fountains. You could take a tour.”

“Fountains?”

“Yep, there are over two hundred fountains in Kansas City. A walking tour might be nice.”

Harriet looked at the young man. “A walking tour of fountains? Well, who doesn’t like a good fountain?”

She flung her foxtail across her shoulders. “I’m off to see the fountains.”

Henry watched the FedEx driver pull up out front of the house.

“Oh no, more shakers.”

The driver hopped out of the truck carrying three small packages.

“It’d be easier if she just combined these,” she said.

“That’s my mom.”

Henry signed for the boxes, and this time instead of just putting them in the garage with the others, he sat down on the front porch and opened them. “You know, Humphrey, I never did get what Mom sees in these things.”

Humphrey let go a low grumbly growl and flopped near Henry.

Henry removed a set of shakers shaped like teepees, a set of kissing Indians, and a set emblazoned with the words B
LUE
R
IDGE
P
ARKWAY
on them.

“Look,” Henry said showing the set to Humphrey. “She’s
been on the Blue Ridge Parkway, which means she had to cross the Smoky Mountains. How in the world did she manage that? I mean she is seventy-two years old. Okay, not ancient but still.”

Henry examined the next box. Instead of being addressed to himself or Prudence, it was addressed to “Harriet Beamer in care of Henry Beamer.” “That’s odd,” Henry said. “I guess I shouldn’t open it but —” He couldn’t resist and discovered not only a set of shakers shaped like Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus, but he also found something he was not expecting — a baby bib with a picture of the Smoky Mountains that read, “My Nana Climbed a Mountain for Me.”

His heart raced and then he let go a long sigh. “Mom. This is —”

But he couldn’t really think of anything to say except, “I can’t be angry, Humphrey. It’s her business. I shouldn’t have opened it.”

Henry held the small yellow bib. “Wishful thinking, I suppose … Nana. For both of us.”

Although she might have had some trepidation about sleeping on the train, Harriet’s concerns were quickly gone when she saw her room — or more accurately her roomette. It was lovely in her opinion, even if it was a bit cramped. But what could you expect on a train?

Harriet discovered quickly how to make the two facing seats into one bed. There was an overhead berth as well, but Harriet liked the lower option better.

“Not climbing up there,” she said looking at herself in the small mirror on the closet door. “You look a fright.”

But it was late and after touring the fountains of Kansas City for most of the day she figured she deserved to look a little disheveled.

Harriet settled in, took a shower — an experience she would most certainly remember. Her first traveling shower experience.
It wasn’t too bad. The water was just barely hot enough but still it soothed her tired muscles. She changed into her PJs and by then it was nearly 11:30. Late just about everywhere. She thought about calling Martha knowing she’d more than likely be awake but that night she thought it might be better to sleep considering how early she would need to rise the next morning.

So she set her alarm on her phone for 4:30 in the morning — giving herself plenty of time to get ready for the day ahead. After making her bed up with sheets and a blue blanket and finding the pillow — which was stuffed into the closet — she lay down for what she hoped would be a peaceful sleep, and that’s when it struck — insomnia or something close. She closed her eyes. They popped back open. The motion of the train — which she hoped would lull her to sleep was troublesome. Every few seconds it seemed to lurch side to side instead of rocking gently.

“Oh dear, I really need to sleep. Please, Jesus, help me to sleep so I can have energy for tomorrow.”

Harriet stayed awake for the next several minutes. It was like she just could not shut her brain off. She saw flashes of salt and pepper shakers, snakes being lifted toward heaven, trees whizzing past at breakneck speed, numerous cups of coffee and stars. It was like the trip came rushing back in one fell swoop. She shook her head. “Sleep, Harriet. Just go to sleep.”

A few hours later she heard the music of her alarm. Shaking herself from what turned out to be a deep sleep, and searching her brain to remember that she had spent the night on a train, she grabbed her phone, pulled out the charger, and swiped the alarm off.

The Dodge City Amtrak Station was nothing like any other train station she had visited. It was more of a stop than a station and, according to a sign Harriet read, was a former two-story brick Santa Fe Railway depot built in 1898. Now it was covered with
rust-color stucco and had light bumpy bricks around the foundation. The platform was the same rust color, and there was no one there to help with bags or give out information. “Kind of like a ghost station,” Harriet said to no one. “Especially so early in the morning. Guess folks in town are not what you would call early risers.”

She felt a little anxious standing on the platform. It was lit well enough, but the sounds of crickets and what she thought could have been a coyote’s howl unnerved her.

Fortunately, Amelia was able to map several restaurants nearby, and nearly all right on Wyatt Earp Boulevard. She pulled up the handle of her suitcase, adjusted her tote so it was as comfortable as possible, but frankly, Harriet’s shoulders were beginning to complain. And she set off in the direction of Kate’s Coffee House.

“Are you going to work all night?” Prudence said as she entered Henry’s office. “It’s almost ten o’clock.”

Henry stretched and leaned back in his chair. “No. I guess this is as good as any place to stop.”

“Any word from Mom?”

“In a way.” Henry stood and pushed his chair toward the desk. Humphrey whimpered. “More salt and pepper shakers arrived.” He took a breath and was just about to tell her about the bib when he thought better of it. “She picked them up in the Smoky Mountains.” He took Prudence’s hand, and they walked to the kitchen.

“You know,” Henry said. “I kind of admire her. I’ve never seen the Smoky Mountains or ridden in a sidecar or visited a salt-and-pepper-shaker museum.”

Prudence chuckled as she opened a jar of strawberry jam. “Want toast?”

“No, I’m going for ice cream.” He pulled open the freezer door. “Moose tracks.”

“She is brave,” Prudence said, “but I’ll still feel better when she’s here — safe and sound.”

Henry dug into the ice cream. “Have you been thinking … praying — I mean besides with me?”

Prudence’s toast popped. “About having a baby?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Sure. How can I not think about it? But every time I do, I remember and —”

“Will you see the doctor at least?”

Prudence slathered the bread with jam. “Okay. It can’t hurt to talk. I’ll call in the morning.”

Henry felt a wide smile stretch across his face.