Bus terakhir, wakil presiden duduk di pangkuanku

NOVEL · SECTION 04 OF 15 · English

Bus terakhir, wakil presiden duduk di pangkuanku — Chapter 3 The Same Ride

Karyawan dua puluh tujuh tahun dan wakil presiden tiga puluh lima tahun saling kenal di bus. Tidak ada pemerasan. Fiksi orisinal.

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THE READING ROOM

Text in English

Contents · 15 sectionsSection 0Chapter 1 The Last BusChapter 2 The Slow StopChapter 3 The Same RideChapter 4 Inside the DoorChapter 5 The Sound of RainChapter 6 The WindowChapter 7 MondayChapter 8 The Break RoomChapter 9 The Second TimeChapter 10 The Lock ScreenChapter 11 RumorsChapter 12 Plain WordsChapter 13 PersonnelChapter 14 Said Aloud

04 / 15

Chapter 3 The Same Ride

Chapter 3 The Same Ride

The truck blocked the road for nearly forty minutes. When Route 32 reached Binhe Station, the driver got out, looked at the road, and came back to announce that the run ended here. The bridge behind them was closed. The bus would not cross. Passengers who had not reached their stops could wait for the company's dispatch text, or they could find their own way. When the text would come, he did not know.

The rain was heavier than before. Half the shelter on the platform leaked. The ground reflected the lamps. Zhou Ye's place was on the other side of the bridge. Tonight he most likely could not get back. Shen Man's apartment was on this side of the bridge, two intersections farther on. On an ordinary day it was ten minutes by car. On foot she would have to cross a stretch of sidewalk with no shelter. She stood by the bus door. The hem of the trench coat dripped. She looked outside and did not leave at once.

"You can't get across," she said.

"I'll wait for the rain to ease. Or find a ride that goes around on the elevated road."

"The elevated road is closed too. I just saw the notice in the group." She paused, as if this was not a fact she was supposed to have in hand. "The company's emergency group. It has nothing to do with your review."

Zhou Ye smiled a little. "I know."

Only the two of them and two other people who could not get a car were left on the platform. A taxi came through the standing water with its light empty, moving very slowly, as if it were choosing. Shen Man raised a hand. The car stopped. The driver rolled the window down and said he was only working this part of Binhe. He would not cross the bridge. He would not take a fare any farther than that.

"Two intersections," Shen Man said.

The driver looked at the back seat, then at Zhou Ye. "If you're together, get in. If you're not together, I'll take one."

Rain hammered down between them. Shen Man turned her face and looked at Zhou Ye. Her lashes were wet again. The daytime color on her mouth had faded. There was no order in that look. The sentence on the last bus, that if he turned his face to the window the thing would only be crowding, had now become another sentence she did not finish. Getting into this car would be more than crowding.

Zhou Ye said, "I'll see you to the building. Before the bridge opens, I'll find somewhere to wait."

"You can still change your mind before you get in," she said.

"I know. I'm not changing it."

They got into the same taxi. The back seat was narrower than the bus, dry, and quieter. The driver turned the heat on. The wet clothes immediately gave off a wave of warm vapor. Shen Man's trench coat no longer dripped, but she herself was still cold. When the car turned, her knee touched his knee again. This time it was not so cleanly an accident. She did not apologize. He did not count to five.

The radio in the taxi was saying there would be more rain tomorrow. The driver was a middle-aged man of few words. Only at a red light did he say that this rain was something. Shen Man answered with a sound. Her hand rested in the middle of the seat, very near Zhou Ye's hand. The fingertips were a little stiff from the cold. Zhou Ye looked at that hand and remembered the way it turned pages, and also the pause when it had offered him the tissue. He lifted his own hand and stopped beside hers. He did not cover it.

"If you may, then touch," Shen Man said, looking ahead, her voice very light. "If you may not, pretend I didn't say it."

Zhou Ye laid his hand over hers. Her fingers were cold. Her palm was warm. He held once, not hard. Shen Man's shoulders slowly loosened, as if, for this one evening, she had finally allowed herself to lean on something a little. She did not lean on his shoulder. She only threaded her fingers between his and closed them, and then, as if she felt the movement was too fast, stopped halfway through the clasp. Zhou Ye finished that clasp. Her breath shortened.

"This is only a hand," she said.

"Mm. Only a hand."

"If I want to take it back downstairs, you have to let go."

"I will let go."

The driver glanced at them once in the rearview mirror and said nothing. The wipers went back and forth, scraping the road out ahead and then giving it back to the rain. Shen Man's building was more ordinary than Zhou Ye had imagined, an old high-rise near the river. The shops on the ground floor had turned their lights off. A moving advertisement was stuck to the glass of the lobby. She did not look like a person who would live here. Or she lived here precisely because she did not look like it. The apartments near the company were too bright. In a bright place every pane of glass could reflect a title.

The car stopped steadily. Shen Man did not pull her hand back at once. She looked at the door of her building and said, "You can't cross the bridge. At this hour a ride won't come. There's a twenty-four-hour convenience store on the ground floor. You can sit there until the bridge opens. But your clothes are wet."

"I know."

"Come up and sit for a while. Dry your clothes. When the bridge opens, you leave." After she said it, she turned her eyes to him and made every word clear. "Sit for a while. It doesn't mean anything else. If you think that coming upstairs means you owe me something, or that I owe you something, go to the convenience store now."

Zhou Ye's heart beat very heavily. He looked at her eyes. In the dark of the taxi they were extremely clear. "I'll come up. When the clothes are dry, if the bridge has opened, I'll leave. If you want me to leave, I'll leave at once. This has nothing to do with position. And you can't use position to make me stay."

Shen Man listened, and gave one short nod. "All right."

She paid the fare. Zhou Ye moved to take it. She pressed his wrist, lightly, and did not allow the contest. "I hailed this car. Next time you can fight me for it."

Those two words, next time, fell into the rain and sounded more like a promise than a kiss. They got out. The rain poured down at once. From the taxi to the building door was only a dozen steps. Shen Man's hair was soaked through again. Zhou Ye lifted his coat and held it over her head. The coat had been wet to begin with and could hardly block anything, but she still moved half a step closer to him, and they ran into the lobby together. The lobby light was white. It showed both of them looking a mess. Her makeup had smeared a little. His shirt showed the color underneath. They looked at each other for a second, and both of them laughed. When the laugh ended, Shen Man drew hers in first.

"The elevator's here," she said.

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