Soda Lime (part 2)
Marcel is traveling
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This is the second installment in a series of stories about movement and possession in the American West. It will make some sense on its own, but I highly recommend starting with the first part if you haven’t read it yet. You can check it out through the link below:
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1:57 PHOENIX 4
2:05 FRESNO 1
2:20 SAN BERNARDINO __
2:25 PALM SPRINGS __
2:40 LOS ANGELES __
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“Hey there, good afternoon.”
Marcel places his briefcase on the counter.
“Hi, how are you?”
“I’m good. Where are you headed today?”
“Can I get one ticket to Palm Springs?”
“Sure thing. Do you have any extra or overweight luggage?”
“No.”
“Okay, your total will be 19.50.”
Marcel hands her a twenty dollar bill, and he gets two quarters back.
Ticket in hand, Marcel walks toward the metal benches on the other side of the room. He takes a curving path, interrupted by stray pieces of luggage. A brown herringbone suitcase with leather detailing catches his eye. The bus should come in fifteen minutes.
Patty’s neck is straining the top button of her shirt. “Alright everybody, we’re going to start boarding for the PALM SPRINGS bus now. Please have your tickets ready IN YOUR HAND. You won’t be making any stops, so use the bathroom now.” Marcel slips his duffle bag strap onto his shoulder, and grabs the ticket from his jacket pocket. By his estimates, the bus will only be half full.
Marcel finds a seat next to an older man glancing out of the window. His arms are painted brown from decades of dry sun. “Good morning everyone. My name is Derek and I’m going to be your driver for today’s bus to Palm Springs. Arrival time should be right around 6:45, I’ll keep you posted if anything changes. Let me know if you need help with anything, and have a safe ride.”
“Feels nice to travel with such a light wallet, eh? Hahahah.”
An elbow presses into Marcel’s right arm.
“Sorry, I’m not sure what you mean.”
“It’s Vegas! You lose some money, have some drinks, and have a good time.”
“Heh, that’s right.”
“I’m Frank, nice to meet ya. What’s your name?”
Shaking a sinewy right hand.
“Marcel. Nice to meet you too.”
“Marcel? That’s a French name, huh?”
“Yeah, that’s right. I’m from a city called Auch, in the south.”
“Ouch! What’s it like over there?”
“It’s great, there are many old religious buildings, and a lot of open space when you leave the city. Not much changes, but I haven’t been there in a long time…”
Sand spits up onto the window. The mountains in the distance shield the road on both sides.
“Alright everyone, we’re almost there. 40 minutes out from Palm Springs station. Time is 5:57. Hope you enjoy the rest of your ride.”
Marcel gets off after Frank, turning his eyes away from the chromed exterior of the bus. Derek hands him his bags from the luggage compartment. “Thanks for riding with us. Have a nice day!” Frank puts his hand on Marcel’s back. “Safe travels Marcel, pleasure to meet you.” “Likewise Frank, I hope you have a great time with your family.” Frank heads in the direction of Juniper street, waving at Marcel. Marcel needs some water. He pulls the door open, entering the Palm Springs station.
Cool air. The grey tiles are shining from a recent mop, the seats are barely populated, and the hinges are out of rubber, screeching behind him. Down the hall to the left, Marcel sees a bathroom sign. Says sorry to the floor cleaner for stepping on his tiles. He walks past two vending machines, one drink and one food. The water fountains are nested in a small inlet next to an open doorway. He looks in and sees a red flag with gold detailing.
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The Magnificent History of China
Sponsored by The Riverside County Realtors Association
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The overhead light is turned off. Pockets of dust are illuminated on the glass, light coming from inside the display area. Marcel steps closer to examine a bronze vase with a square-shaped mouth. Its handles curve outward at the top, fraying into a tangle of metallic fingers.
There is a green lion to the right. One of the front paws is forward, and the teeth are bared in an expression of defiance. A card sits at an angle, tilted toward the glass.
The dog is standing on a dark wooden platform. Its short tail reminds Marcel of an ocean wave. He looks at the flag, then turns around, walking in a circle and stopping in the dark corners of the room. Minerals in the water make the fountain stream opaque. Marcel wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, using his foot to push the bathroom door.
A man is combing his hair in front of the far sink, curling it behind his ears. Three out of the four stalls are free. Marcel enters the leftmost one, the door tilted slightly open. Turns the lock with his elbow and sets his bags down on either side of the toilet.
Pulling the hem over his shoulders, Marcel places his shirt and jacket on the metal hook. He unzips his duffle bag and takes out a white undershirt and a brown cotton button-up. They rest in a crumpled ball on top of the toilet paper dispenser as he reaches for the briefcase. Removes the top panel and gets a flat leather pouch, sliding it under the clothes pile. Also grabs a pair of thin wool gloves, placing one in each pocket. He puts on the undershirt and button-up, and footsteps approach the door. Marcel sits on the toilet, pants around his ankles.
Pshhhh of the sink. Door closes, Marcel takes out the gloves, and puts his shirt and jacket back on. Flushes and tears a piece of paper towel, wrapping it around the door handle.
Cuts to the left, eyeing the dusty glass. Unzips his duffle. Unfolds the pouch, taking a double rake and the wrench. Sweat soaks into the gloves. Tinny clicks, the tile is silent. Gets the lock to turn. The glass squeaks as it slides open. Takes the dog, wraps it in clothes, throws the pouch and tools in, zips the duffle. Glass slides back and the lock clicks. Portion of absent dust.
A dark-haired lady is asleep and the floor cleaner’s blue jumpsuit is merging with the chair. Marcel walks into the door sideways, and crosses the empty street.
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5/18/91 - Saturday
Palm springs day 1
10:35 - Had breakfast at a mexican restaurant. Green enchiladas and two eggs with a strong coffee. Walked around town for a while, found a visitor center with lots of pamphlets. Joshua tree park looks nice. They told me don’t go until later, apparently the sun is too strong in the middle of the day.
8:45 - On the bus back to the hotel now. Did a long hike, walked on and under the boulders. saw a few lizards and the remains of an old dam near the end of the loop. The sunset was a gentle orange, I watched it fall behind the trees. Need to wash the sand off of my face.
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Marcel turns the key. He twists the knob on the lamp, it clicks twice before turning on. The cleaners must have made his bed. Opening the dresser, he swipes the pile of clothes aside to look through his bags. Jade is cold to the touch. He washes his hands, splashing water on his face.
The dog is heavier than he remembered. Marcel flips it around and sees two characters carved into its underbelly. He sets it down on the nightstand, gets under the covers, and turns off the lamp.
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ahh, the marcel chronicles continue