Connor My Dear Boy (FINISHED)

23

When Connor got onto the correct bus, he handed the bus driver his money, despite the suspicious looks that he was giving him.

Connor glanced around the bus to see that the only available seat was next to an older looking woman with graying hair whom Connor guessed might be a librarian, judging by her clothes and the stack of books she held in her lap.

"U- um, do you mind if I sit here?" Connor asked quietly.

The woman looked up at Connor in surprise. "Absolutely," she said with a kindly smile.

Connor mumbled a thank you and sat down in the seat stiffly. He held his backpack on his lap and tried to make himself as small as possible, so as not to bother the woman. Connor stared at his feet and remained silent, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone.

"Are you going into the city?" asked the librarian as the bus lurched into motion, making Connor slide forward slightly into the seat. Connor nodded silently. "Is it your first time?"

"Um, no," said Connor reluctantly.

"That's nice, dear," the librarian said. "My name is Sophia, by the way. What's your name?"

Connor paused. "My parents say I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

"Your parents are absolutely right," said Sophia smartly.

Connor sighed and settled into his seat; maybe that would make Sophia stop talking? He really wasn't in the mood for idle conversation at the moment.

"What are you going into the city for?"

Damn it.

"To visit my mom," Connor said, still with obvious reluctance that Sophia seemed to be ignoring.

"Oh, that's nice," said Sophia cheerfully. "I just came out here to visit a couple of friends of mine. Where's your dad?"

Connor looked up at her, not bothering to hide his irritation in the slightest. "Out here," he said, gesturing vaguely outside of the window with the little town rolling by.

"Oh, I see," said Sophia. "Are your parents separated?"

"Yes," Connor hissed scathingly.

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Sophia.

Connor started to look pointedly in the other direction. Sophia made a couple of brief attempts at conversation again, all of which Connor ignored. Eventually, she stood and said, "Well, it was nice talking to you, Connor. I hope you have a good time visiting your mom."

Connor moved his legs and backpack to let her pass before moving into the seat that she had just vacated. He glanced around the bus to see that there were several empty seats before he placed his backpack on the seat next to him so that no one would try to sit next to him. He settled into his seat (as much as he could; bus seats are incredibly uncomfortable) and leaned his head against the window next to him.

It was only a matter of time before Connor fell asleep.

"Hey! Hey kid!" Someone was poking Connor's shoulder.

Connor blinked his eyes open and blearily looked into the kindly face of the bus driver. The man had swarthy skin and long black hair with a band over his forehead. His name badge read "Yusuf Tazim" in comic sans.

"End of the line, I'm afraid," said the bus driver.

Connor's eyes widened and looked around the bus wildly. Sure enough, he and the bus driver were the only ones there. Connor was grateful to see that his backpack was still on the seat next to him.

"Do you know where you're going?" the bus driver asked.

"Uh, where am I?"

The bus driver told Connor exactly what street they were on and which way the bus was facing. Connor realized with a jolt that they actually weren't too far away from his old apartment.

"Yes, I know where I am," Connor said, trying to beat back his excitement.

The bus driver nodded. "Alright. You be careful, now; the city can be dangerous at night."

"I know," said Connor, snatching up his backpack. "Thank you!"

He started to rush over to the door. The bus driver didn't say anything as he watched him go. After Connor was safely off of the bus, he saw the bus pull away, its digital sign now reading "garage."

The street was mostly empty, save for a couple of drunk people laughing loudly on the corner of one of the streets. It was dark, and when there were street lights their yellow light was dim or flickering. Many of the cars on the street seemed to have parts missing or were broken down entirely. The buildings lining the street were made mainly of bricks and if there were any plants in the planter boxes on the windowsills they were wilting or dead. A couple of walls in the allyways were covered in graffiti with stuff that didn't really make sense to Connor, such as "The Order is the way" or "Everything is Permitted."

Sure, it wasn't the best part of the city, but it was the best that his mom could afford. It was home. She had been working on saving up for an apartment in a better neighborhood, but with the same school district so that Connor wouldn't have to leave his friend, Kanen'tó:kon; his mother didn't know that Connor knew that she was saving up for it. In fact, Connor was pretty sure that she wanted it to be a surprise.

Connor hoisted his backpack up and started to speed up towards where his apartment was; he knew the streets by heart and knew just where to go and where to turn.

There.

It looked a lot like the other apartments surrounding it, except for the obvious fire damage. Many of the bricks on the upper floors were blackened and dark and the windows were broken. There was still caution tape in the shape of an X over the main entrance to the building, though it was obvious that there was no one inside.

So much had happened there. So many mornings eating a fast breakfast in the morning. So many afternoons spent doing homework. So many evenings talking to Kanen'tó:kon. So many nights sitting on the couch with his mother, watching Jeopardy.

"Did you finish your homework, Ratonhnhaké:ton?" she would ask.

"Yes, I have, ista," Connor would always say.

"Good," his mother would say. "Then we can relax."

They would sit together until about nine thirty, when his mother would send Connor to bed with a kiss on the forehead and a quick, "Konnorónhkwa."

Connor felt a lump in his throat. It felt like so long ago that he had tried to run into the building to rescue his mother; at the same time, it felt like only yesterday.

Connor couldn't stay there for the night. He knew that it wouldn't be likely, but a strange part of him had been hopeful all the same. It was time to move on. He knew that there was a park relatively nearby. Perhaps he could stay there for the night before moving on.