How Not To Be A Groupie

Chapter Fifty Five: Our Night Out

The bus screeched into the parking lot, coming to a shaky stop. Out the window I could just make out the neon glow of the twenty four hour corner store sign. Bon's driving got us here in record time, and thankfully one piece. Angus sighed in relief, happy to make it here alive. Only problem was, we had to get back home alive too. 

"Hold on," Bon said, turning a few gears. "I'm gonna try backin' up..." Angus' relief was short lived.

"Why?" he asked, gripping the cushion.

"I think I'm parked wrong," Bon said. The bus inched backwards along the asphalt. I peered out the curtain and watched the neon sign grow smaller. Backing up in a normal car was difficult enough. I know from experience. With a massive, clumsy tour bus....

"I'm sure you're parked fine," Angus said. Now I could see the concern on his face. I think sometime after Bon took a chance in the fast lane, Angus dropped his calm facade in favor of safety first. "Jus' pull forward an' stop."

"Can't see shit," Bon said, looking through the mirror. No matter how much he adjusted it, it was still too dark. "Can one of you be a mate an' check the back window for me? Make sure I don't run someone over?"

Angus and I exchanged very worried and slightly green looks. Angus sighed and stood up. "Guess I'll do it..." He left us at the front as he passed the beds and bathroom. The back room, similar to the one where Malcolm and I conducted our interview, had a little window smudged with dirt. I wasn't sure how much Angus could see out that window, let alone any better than Bon could see out the front. Either way, it was still too dark out. Angus' voice called out and I could barely understand him. But Bon seemed to and he started backing up again. 

Everything went smoothly. Until it didn't.

Angus' voice called out louder now, sounding more like panic. Finally I could make out the words "Bon, stop!" before Bon finally turned the gear to neutral. Something metal and dangerously large crashed to the ground outside. Even from up front it hurt to hear the scraping metal against the concrete as the tires pushed it around. Bon turned the ignition off, waiting for Angus to come back. When he did, he did not look happy. "You hit somethin'."

"What'd I hit?"

"I don't know, I can't see anythin'." Bon pulled the lever to open the doors and Angus stormed out. Bon, tossing the driver's hat to the floor followed him and I stood from my seat with shaky legs. Grabbing on to anything I could to steady myself, I followed the men off the bus and hurried around back, putting a hand to my mouth at the sight. Bon and Angus were standing beside a fallen pole. A sign had broken off from the top of the pole during the fall, warning drivers about potential towing after midnight. 

It was well past midnight by now. 

Bon stuck his hands in his pockets and surveyed the damage. "Hm," he said, checking the bus for any scrapes or dents he'd have to explain. "Well," he said, giving us a pitiful smile. "At least the bus looks fine."

"At least," Angus huffed, rolling his eyes. "You backed into it an' hit it, then pushed it out where it was standin'," Angus explained, using his hands to demonstrate. "I heard somethin' but didn't see it until it fell. Thought it would smash the window in."

"Are you okay?" I asked. 

"Bit shaken," Angus said. "Remind me never to go drivin' with this loon again." Bon picked the towing sign up from the ground and squinted trying to read it. 

"Heavy," he said, weighing it with his hands. "Heavier than it looks."

"Ya' know we can get arrested for this?" Angus asked, gesturing at the fallen pole.