From One Raven's Eye

Page 7

Hi, howdy, hello and yo. So how are things? Don't mean to rush you but we

have this bus to catch. If you remember from last week Robert the Indian, and Frank,

the farmer were doing a little travelling through the darkness of each other's minds on this grey dog type bus.

Robert slid back into his seat right next to Frank. Frank had his hands cupped around his face peering out the bus window like a person would look into a pool of water. As he pulled back, Robert caught him with a smile and a small wave in that window reflection.

"You know Frank," he said, "I was thinking about what you said sitting in the little moving outhouse back there. About us all drinking, collecting welfare and all of that. What kept coming into my mind was this cousin of a cousin who I hear never drank a day in his life. He's had the same job for, oh, maybe nine or ten years now."

Frank just sniffed like he's smelled a rabbit flattened on the highway since yesterday. "I'll believe that when I see it," he said.

"You mean you'd like to meet him, eh?," Robert replied. "Oh sure," Frank replied, flaring his little nostrils again.

"Well put it here frank," Robert said shoving his hand out suddenly. "Me and my cousin been cousin's for years." Frank's hand went out involuntarily but he pulled it back twice as fast before Robert could reach it.

Frank's eyes went small and hard like tacks. "Maybe there are some good ones among you but what I say is still mostly true. Besides that I know one Indian too many aready. Why don't you got sit someplace else?"

Robert shrugged. "Hey I was here first remember, I gave up that window seat to let you wave good bye to your people at the station. And besides, there's no place else to sit!"

For the next hour or so they sat quiet. Just as the sky turned pale, the bus rolled to a stop in the shadow of a huge grain elevator. As it pulled itself across the rough planking of the railway crossing Frank shook his head and sort of growled and sighed at the same time.

"What?" Robert asked, "you go something against bus companies too? They have to stop at crossings, sign on the back says so."

"No, those damn things," Frank answered poking his finger in the direction of the grain elevator.

"Because of those they're closing down the smaller elevators in town after town. More efficient to have farmers haul their grain to just one big elevator in each area they say. No need for those towns anymore either. Pretty soon those big companies will run everything. In no time at all there's be no family farms left. We'll all end up living in the city like rats."

"So, sounds like you got people tryin' to tell you how to live your life too, eh?"

Frank turned and answered in any angry whisper. "I'm not the same as you at all. I at least pay my own way. That gives me a say in how things should be."

Robert's voice went a little hard but his words rolled calmly off his lips and tongue when he said, "We pay our own way too Frank. Maybe we should start charging you half of everything you make from all this land we're supposed to be sharing. Maybe then we'd see who owes who in the long run."

"Guess you'll never change my mind either," Robert replied. "How I see it is we got a deal to hold you to. Just because you're always trying to find ways to get out of it doesn't mean the deals over until we say so. Then you can have back what you put in and we'll take back what we put in. Simple as that."

Frank's mouth opened but no words came out. Into that silence those two lapsed once again. After a while Robert said, "I'm gonna be getting off just a little ways from here. Hope things work out alright for your grandson there. Pretty sad when a kid gets sick like that."

Frank's voice went soft. "How do you know about that?" he said.

"Oh from what you said in your sleep. Figured you were just on your way back from visiting him." Frank didn't say anything.

Robert stood up and pulled a small blue suitcase down from overhead then sat down gain. Frank reached for his cigarette package. He looked Robert up and down with one eye then offered him one. Robert took it and slid it into his shirt pocket.

Frank said in a voice that sounded like wind travelling over stone. "You been after me for one of those all night. I give you one and you turn around and don't even smoke it!"

Robert smiled, "Oh I maybe have one or two of those in one day. Don't get the urge that much. I must have used up most of that urge trying to talk you into one. Tell you what my friend. Later on, I'll take this cigarette, light it up in a nice quiet place and think about you and that grandson of yours."

"Don't see what good that'll do," the other man answered,.

Just then the bus began to wheeze to a stop. Robert got to his feet. "Oh you never know. The more good we think about each other the more it'll all add up someday so they say."

Frank's face wrinkled up like he was trying this best to understand but then it went blank again. He answered Robert's parting wave with the kind you'd use to brush away a fly.

You know one time I rode the bus from Saskatoon to Toronto. When I finally got off my body resembled the shape of a beat up old couch. Still sometimes when I see one of those things rolling by me I get the urge to get going. Moving is really just an illusion though. Even standing still we are a journey to somewhere or other . Hope the next part of your travels go good and I also hope our wandering trails cross again next week as well.