When the Bus Stopped

Chapter 3

Lucy popped the cork from a bottle of cheap bubbly and poured it into a chipped mug. Sitting back on her trusty deck chair she crossed her legs and gazed at her faux fur ugg boots.

Life was flawless. The predicted snow had begun falling slowly half an hour earlier. It danced across the breeze as if it had been choreographed by an anal-retentive ballerina. It fluttered, skipped and swirled through the air before settling precariously upon blades of grass.

Amidst the idyllic scenery her house bus was pressed up against the river, smoke curling from its chimney. Lucy took a slug of bubbles and felt the alcohol enter her bloodstream, working like an anesthetic to rid her of the week's troubles. After a quick peek over each shoulder to check there were no disapproving stares from the bushes, she drained the cup in one large gulp.

God knew she deserved it! She was only missing one crucial thing to make this moment absolutely idyllic. Her mind drifted back to that red-hot, makeup-wearing male she'd bumped into on the way to the river. She'd never known drag queens could be so full of burning hot testosterone.

Filling her mug with a second offering, Lucy sighed and focused her mind on "drinking mindfully". Taking a sip of the bubbly liquid she felt small explosions of gas burst against her tongue. The fruity tang teased her taste buds before it made its way down her throat.

She was midway through another sip, when a large explosion startled the liquid down the wrong way. Bubbles splashed over her face and down her shirt. Coughing wildly, she jumped to her feet and hit her head on an overhanging branch.

"For Pete's sake," she shouted at no one in particular.

Fishing up her sleeve, she searched for a tissue to mop up the mess. Wondering - not for the first time - why she couldn't be five foot four like a normal woman. She paced quickly around the bus, trying to find what had fallen off this time.

Everything appeared to be fine. In confusion, she gazed around the river. Fracking she decided vehemently. Swinging open the back door to her bus, the neighboring trees were shaken with her loud 'Frack that!' Lucy might have continued with more colorful abuse had she not choked so promptly on soot.

Her house bus had driven her crazy all day with its dodgy alternator. This was the final straw. Black soot lined the entire truck – there wasn't a surface that hadn't been blackened by the innards of Lucy's fireplace.

Although she felt confident that she could do many things, sleeping on a layer of soot in icy cold conditions was not one of them. Jumping out she slammed the door shut. Deftly snatching up her empty mug and picnic chair she poked them into the passenger seat and hauled herself behind the steering wheel. She began the procedure of rolling backward before gunning the old bus to life and steering in the direction of the Arrowtown village. It was still early enough that a shop might be open, then Lucy would have a heater to plug in to her generator and she could begin to clean the soot up. As the tires crunched over stones she leaned forward to peer out of her window.

The snow flurries were blocking out the horizon. Lucy could barely see where the tarmac ended and the roadside began. She drove surely and confidently, admiring a landscape covered in a virginal blanket of snowfall. Just as the bus was picking up speed she reached a hairpin corner.

All her father's advice about never braking on snow or ice flew out the window. Lucy's foot and the pedal became inseparable. With her nerves as shot as they were from the adventures of the day she slammed the brakes harder than she'd anticipated. Much harder. Adrenaline surged in her veins as the back wheels locked and she felt the truck moving out from below her.

Lucy straightened the wheel but it was already too late; the truck left the road. Lucy found herself in mid-air about to meet her maker.