Nauvoo to Nashville - Part Two

I looked for an alternate approach to the busses. The security guards lined the perimeter of the terminal directing newcomers through the side doors to the inside and keeping everyone else in the lines. There was no other way to get to the bus. “Whatever you do don’t spend the night in the Saint Louis bus depot” the words echoed. Actually it didn’t seem that bad, but I wasn’t going to give up after getting this close. I pulled my bags close to my body and weaved a way through the line. “You cuttin’ in front of us?!?” asks a displeased traveler. I looked around to see if any security guards would intervene. Nobody budged, so I pressed on – “They just called final call for my bus” I said as I moved forward. “That’s all you need to say buddy” said a nice man as he moved aside to let me through. “We’re all waitin’ for our busses!” Shouted the lady. Her voice faded behind me. I was intent on getting to my bus.

The bus parked in gate 2 had MEMPHIS displayed across the front. “Which bus goes to Nashville?” I asked. The driver pointed to that one. I gave him my ticket, set down my bag and climbed aboard. This time I take a seat toward the front of the bus. “Perhaps the crowed is different up here” I say to myself. Wasting little time the driver climbs into his seat, honks his horn and backs out from the gate.

As it turns out the kid sitting across from me just got out after 4 years in prison. “4 years? How old are you?” I asked.
“22” he said.
“What’d they pick you up for?”
“Residential burglary.”
“4years!”
“It could have been 9”
“Now what are you going to do? (meaning school, work, etc.)”
“Two years parole.”
“Do you have plans for school or anything? Do they have any programs set up for school or work or anything?”
“I have all of my math and English requirement for a associates degree… or a bachelors. I live in a college town… so I’ll take classes at the community college and then transfer.” He gazed off. He had a cardboard box on the seat next to him. At 18 years old he gets 4 years in prison. After he’s done they give him a cardboard box and bus ticket home to Carbondale, IL.

The sign on the highway says “Nashville, IL” next exit. The bus takes the exit and heads south. I double-check my ticket.

There is a retired couple in the front seats… I’m aware of at least 3 ex-cons – maybe they’re not ‘ex’ cons if they’re still on parole. My guess is there are a few more who’ve spent time behind bars… then there is a woman with two young children who appears to be very out of place. I’m probably out of place, but I feel right at home.

The sun is setting over the vast farmlands as we roll past a rural graveyard, cinderblock buildings, modular homes, and a manmade lake. “Good Ole Home Cooking. 7 blocks south of square” reads the sign.

I wonder what he’s got in his box. The bus pulls into the Carbondale depot. Another short stop for a smoke break. The kid takes his cardboard box and heads off the bus. “I’m going to sleep under the stars tonight” he says.

After that I doze off as the bus rolls over the Kentucky border and continues down Interstate 24. I feel the bus slow down. I look out through hazy eyes and see the Bellsouth building towering over Nashville as the bus pulls into the depot on 8th Avenue South. From 6th St. North in Keokuk to 8th Ave. South in Nashville – in just over 11 hours. It’s 12:45am and I have to find a way home to Franklin.