EPISODE 2 — The Bus
The bus left at 0600 Saturday. Half the town was on it.
Denise, of course — she’d closed the diner, hung a sign on the door: GONE TO HONOR OUR BOYS. BACK MONDAY. Marco came, with a cooler of sandwiches. The sheriff came, in uniform. Tank came — all three hundred pounds of him squeezed into a seat built for half that, with Buddy the Second taking up the rest.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Tank said gruffly, when Cole raised an eyebrow.
The drive was three hours. Somebody brought a guitar. Somebody else brought the story — the diner, the water glass, the Tuesdays — and told it to the newcomers, and by the second rest stop even the bus driver was crying.
Rex rode in the front seat like royalty, accepting tribute in the form of bacon bits from half a dozen pockets.
“You know what this is about, right?” Denise said to Cole, halfway there.
“A ceremony,” Cole said.
“It’s about you finally letting somebody say thank you.” She patted his hand. “You’ve spent six years deflecting. Today’s the day you sit still and take it.”
Cole looked out the window at the highway rolling past. “I don’t know how.”
“You’ll learn,” Denise said. “Rex already knows. Watch him.”
Rex, at that moment, had his head out the window, ears flying, living his best life.
Cole smiled despite himself. “Show-off.”
