Author's note/Disclaimer: I
don't own anything or anybody at all except myself. I just
needed a break from the nonstop angst-fest that is my other story
(Surrender), and this idea just sort of hatched without warning.
:) The song quoted throughout the story is "Iowa," by
Dar Williams. Oh, and also? I'm a little foggy about the actual
geography of the bus itself, and in reality, the idea of 8 people
in that small a space for that long a time is pretty scary, so
please suspend some disbelief. :)
===
It felt like they had been on the bus for eight months instead of
three weeks. Annie was still her perenially optimistic
self, but even her unwavering good temperament was feeling the
toll of the confinement and the constant movement. The sun
charged obnoxiously through the blinds of the room that she and
Fi now shared. Annie stretched and yawned, glancing around
the room before doing anything else to make sure her spirit
animal was still watching over her. Yep, he was in his
usual position, sprawled out on the floor. "It's a
good thing no one can see you," she told the panther with a
smile. "Otherwise, everyone would always be tripping
over you!"
Then she noticed that Fi was nowhere in sight and the bus seemed
to have actually stopped. She bounded down the hall and
realized that everyone, actually, was gone. Why would they
have left her behind? She pouted a little and flopped down
on the couch, because obviously she couldn't leave the bus in her
pajamas. Even if they were super cute.
"Ouch," she muttered, removing a small piece of
paper from underneath herself. It was folded into about a
thousand tiny little squares. On it was written a poem.
Annie looked around to make sure no one was watching her
(well, except her spirit animal, of course, because he was always
with her) and devoured the words with the guilty grin of someone
who knows what they are doing is very, very wrong.
I've never had
a way with women,
but the hills of Iowa make me wish that I could.
and I've never found a way to say I love you,
but if the chance came by, oh I, I would.
She
read the first stanza and stopped, nearly scratching her head in
pure puzzlement. They had passed through Iowa a few days
(weeks?) ago, so that part was easy to figure out.
"I've never had a way with women..." Well,
that would go for pretty much everybody on the whole bus,
wouldn't it? She giggled. But maybe the writer's
intentions were easier to figure out than just through the words
on the page. She was the only one left on the bus.
Maybe the mystery poet had left it for her specifically to
find! Then who would it be? Well, she didn't know Clu
that well, and she got the feeling that Fi didn't
especially like her. It wouldn't be any of the grown-ups.
Definitely Jack or Carey, then. But which one?
She decided to consult with the wisest soul she knew.
Her panther, of course!
"Hey, kitty. Do you think this was written for me by
Jack, or by Carey?" She knelt down beside the sleepy
spirit animal and showed him the wrinkled paper. He seemed
to peruse it, and then yawned once. "Come on... wait.
One yawn. One syllable. Jack, of course!"
She hugged the quiet panther in delight.
"Wicked!" She scampered off to change her
clothes and find Jack straightaway!
