Rusti
is good at business. She got the National Bus Line to use her place as
the stop
for Oilpaugh and the nearby part of Cottonpaugh. There was a wide
enough
parking lot out back for the busses. She set aside a marked area at one
end of
the bar with tables for the bus riders. She put the bus company sign up
on the
wall behind. Travelers could come in for a rest before continuing on or
to wait
to change to another bus. People leaving town would come to wait. It
was all a
friendly spot and Rusti would come by and soon have the travelers
relaxed and
talking with each other.
There
was a small grocery store a short way down the street. It was run by a
large
friendly family. Two of the brothers would come into Rusti’s at times
and sit
over among the bus line travelers. The two would sit a few seats apart
and join
the conversations. They would act like they didn’t know each other. No
one
would think they were brothers since one was one of the oldest from the
family
and the other one of the younger. They came from a state in the middle
of the
Nation, Sunflower I think. So they would start a conversation by the
younger
saying it was a long bus ride from Sunflower.
The
older one would ask him where he was bound for and say that he too was
from
Sunflower. The younger would answer that he was going to Basin and ask
which
town he was from. The older one would tell him and that he left at a
young age
and has been in Cottonpaugh for 15 years now. The younger would say he
was from
that Sunflower town and on what street did he live. The older would
answer
something like ‘I think it was Crane Street but I haven’t been back
since.’
Then he adds ‘I heard a younger brother was born after I left. I have
never
seen him.’
Well
you can see where this is starting to get interesting when the younger
answers
‘My house is on Crane Street. It’s a long street with a lot of houses.
I was
down near the river.’ ‘I remember being near the river’ too is the
reply. Now
the people sitting around are quiet listening to this conversation.
Some of the
regulars down at the other end of the bar are exchanging looks and chuckling.
‘The house was a big green place with a long porch. Two story.’ ‘Mine
was too I
remember. Big porch. Lot of houses like that back there.’
‘The house wasn’t too far from the
schoolhouse.’ ‘My house wasn’t too far from the schoolhouse too. A good
thing
when we had to walk there through the snow’ answers the younger. He adds ‘my older brother left a good pair of
snow boots at home. He said he wouldn’t need them because he was going
where
there wasn’t any snow. And then asks ‘my
brother’s name was John, what is yours?’ ‘Jack. Lot of guys named John.
Family
must have wanted something different for me.’ Several of the people
nearby
almost jump out of their seats.
The
travelers are looking at each other now. ‘Where did your brother end
up?’ asks
the older. ‘Not sure, somewhere out this part of the country. Family
wasn’t
much for writing. I always wondered if I would ever see him anywhere’
‘Mine wasn’t
much for writing either. They did send a letter about my younger
brother. Sorry
I never saw him.’ Then the older one would look at his watch and say
‘well I
better get back to work. Have a good rest of the trip to the basin’ as
he gets
up and walks out.
By
now some of the travelers are up and moving around talking. Others are
shaking
their heads and smiling to themselves. The regulars down at the other
end of
the bar are grinning. Some excited travelers gather around the younger
brother.
They grab him and shake him. ‘That is your brother.’ ‘Don’t let him get
away.’
‘Don’t you see?’ ‘My brother?’ he answers. ‘Yes. Don’t you see. Same
street.
Same school. Jack is the same name as John! You have a lost older
brother. He
has a lost younger brother.’ Finally the younger cries ‘my brother! I
have to
catch him!’ And shouting “Brother!” he gets up and runs out past the
regulars,
who raise their glasses to him.