The shadows in the dark

By Tanya Maksousa

Chapter One

 

Mac’s story

 

 

 

Mac had been a bus driver all his life but at the age of 62 he decided it was time to hang up his boots and retire.

The decision had taken him a long time to reach but in the end had been the right one for both him and his wife Evelyn.

For his retirement party the lads at Dicot bus depot had decided to take him down to his local for a goodbye drink with the boys. He’d laughted when they told him but then that was them all over, any excuse for a beer and better still when it was on the company.

Mac wasn’t a big drinker per-say but once in a while he really did enjoy a pint and a get together with the lads and there was no better time than now.

Packing up his bag for the last time and grabbing his sandwich tin and flask his wife had been preparing for him every morning for the past 40 years, he clocked off on the old mechanical time stamper for the very last time.

Rob, who for one would miss Mac immensely, was waiting in his car.

A beat up old mini that Mac had been surprised to discover would be worth a lot of money these days.

Makes him wish he’d hung on to the one his wife had owned all those years ago.

He couldn’t help but laugh at some of the things people these days considered to be collectable.

After climbing in, which felt a lot trickier now than it had when he’d climbed into his wife’s but he was a younger man back then and his waist line had been a lot smaller. Doing up his seat belt, the two old friends headed off to the lion’s arms pub in town.

Now Mac wasn’t a sentimental man, he wasn’t one to cry over soppy films or romantic gestures he was a bit like his old dad in that respect.  He’d only ever cried three times in his life. Once when Evelyn said she’d marry him and when his two daughters were born but even he couldn’t help the feelings of emotion he felt as he walked into that pub and found his work colleagues waiting for him.

To cheers of “There he is” and Alright Mac” he made his way to the usual spot at the back of the bar he liked to call his own. That’s the thing when you lives in a small rural community, you know everyone and they know you. Before he had a chance to say “How does” a pint was placed in his hand to a rousing clap of applause.

For the first time in years, old Mac blushed. “If I knew I was gonna get a pint, ide a retired years ago!” he joked as he raised the glass to a resounding “Cheers!”

For a good portion of the evening the group sat round the small wooden table sharing stories of work, the adventures of Mac as they recalled them and joked on how he was ‘going to take root in that little garden of his planting tomatoes and cutting the grass.’

The conversation turned to his life working on the bus routes and some of the things he’d seen in his 40 years there. With a warm fire in the hearth and good company, some of Hume he’d known for years now, Mac relaxed back to tell of everything he’d seen during his time on the route. It certainly had changed that’s was for sure.

He’d seen the coming and going of the clippies, various members of management and a few new busses along the way and the depot hadn’t been short on scandals either.  An affair, assault and even a bit of extortion.  Mac had watched it all from the safety of his cab.