Don’t Let Life Pass You By
Grandpa always had a habit of falling asleep when he was bored-- in front of the tele, at church, at work, even at the bus stop...
“Don’t let your life pass you by, sonny,” Grand daddy peeled an orange with transparent hands.
I was just a kid, maybe ten. He was my favorite relative, he told the best stories.
“Sure, Grandpa,” I replied. I knew this would lead to a story and couldn’t help but play my part. “But why do you say that?”
“Well, let me tell you. You know how in our photo albums there are pictures of me when I was a kid, pictures of me when I was a teenager, and then nothing until I was much older and with your grandma?”
“Yeah, grandpa, daddy says some of your albums were lost during the war.”
“Well, sonny, that’s not quite the truth. Your daddy wanted to be nice, he didn’t want you to worry.” Grandpa looked around to see that nobody was coming. He leaned toward me, his warm breath smelled of oranges and mothballs. “You see, I was asleep.”
“What are you talking about, grandpa?”
“I was asleep. You don’t see any pictures of me from when I was 18 until I was 30, and it’s because I was asleep.”
“That’s silly. Nobody sleeps that much.”
“Sure they do. I was lucky enough to wake up again.”
I looked at him suspiciously. Most of his stories were about the war, how he flew a fighter jet into a whole squadron of enemy planes and shot them all down. They were believable. This was ridiculous. He must have thought I was still a little kid, that I’d believe anything he told me. My suspicion must have shown, for my grandpa leaned back again in his chair, tucked his chin in, and peered at me from over his glasses.
“Now, you don’t have to believe me, little guy, I’d expect any half-way decent person to look at me like that.”
“Grandpa, c’mon…”
“Now, now, listen to the story. Your dad wouldn’t have believed me either, if he hadn’t heard it, too.”
“Yeah, alright.” My mind was already on the digging toy he gave me for my birthday. It was worn out and scraped up, but I’d never seen anything like it. He called it a dumptruck. It had four big wheels and the back lifted off, so you could dump stuff out of it. It sat right in front of me, waiting to be filled with dirt.
“So, let’s see,” my grandpa began. “I was out the door, walking to the bus stop. Mind you, it wasn’t that much of a walk, maybe a mile. It felt so nice to walk that day. It was a little cold, but the sun was shining and I had a nice warm dinner in my tummy. Days like that make me want to sit down by a tree to nap. If every day were like that day, I thought to myself, why, I’d nap forever.”
“The living room clock showed quarter past the hour when I left. I knew I’d get there in plenty of time to catch a couple of Z’s. So, I whistled my way to the bus stop, put a few newspapers on the bench, made myself comfortable, and dozed.”
“That’s not much of a story, grandpa.”
“Relax, kid, I’m not through yet…. so I nodded off a bit, then, when I heard the bus coming, I awoke and waited for it.”
“The bus looked a little different from what I was used to, but they had been talking about getting new buses, so I just shrugged climbed aboard.”
"I pulled a few coins out of my pocket to pay, but there was no place to put it. I looked to the driver, but there was no driver, either. Just then, a sweet voice spoke to me out of nowhere. ‘Sir, that will be five dollars.’ I had fifty cents in my pocket. The last time I checked, bus fare was a dollar and a quarter. I looked around for whoever was talking to me. Nobody was there.”
“A boy, about your age, actually, was sitting right next to the door. He was looking right at me, so I asked him, ‘Where is she?’ The boy told me, ‘Sir, that’s the computer speaking. You’re supposed to pay.’ He pointed to a yellow post where the coin suppository would have been. ‘Put your finger on there, the fare will be deducted from your account’.”
“The bus had begun to move. On the top of the yellow post was a black square, about the size of a credit card. I put my finger on it. The nice lady’s voice spoke again. ‘Invalid account. Please try again.’ By now I was sure the computer was talking to me. I put my finger on the pad again, a little bit harder and longer. ‘Invalid marker. Please exit at the next stop. You are not an authorized user of this system.’ The sweet voice didn’t sound so nice to me now.
“Here I was, standing at the front of a full bus, with change in my hand. Everyone was looking at me. It was dark outside, I couldn’t even see where I was at. Then, I heard a sound behind me, like a garage door closing. I spun around to find a cage coming down, blocking me off from the rest of the bus. The floor square where I stood was white. It lit up, like a sidewalk on a Michael Jackson video.”
“Who’s Michael Jackson?” This story was making no sense to me at all. Of course I had taken the bus with my dad, so I knew how it worked, how ‘come grandpa didn’t? And what’s with having a driver, that sounded so silly. “Grandpa, buses don’t have drivers, don’t you know that?”
“Sweetheart, remember, this happened to me a
long, long time ago. Back when I was your age, people drove cars and buses and trucks. Some people’s jobs were to drive buses. And, when you got on the bus, you had to pay with coins, like the tokens you get at the video store.”
“Right, grandpa.” I was eyeballing the dumping toy.
“Well, I’m almost done, then you can make up you mind about it.” Grandpa patted me on the head. “So the floor lit up right under my feet. The bus began to slow down, and the voice came back. It said, ‘Please exit the vehicle.’ I really had no choice, so when the bus stopped, I stepped off. Lucky me, I could see from the water tower where I was at, and walked home.
Everything looked so different. Cars, houses, everything. I went by shop window and looked at my reflection. I was 18 years old, but I looked 40! I was so upset. On my way back home, I walked by the bus stop again. Right by the bus stop was a newspaper stand, the strangest looking one I ever did see. I looked at the front page. To me, it was the year 2001, but the papers read 2021. I was shaking. I sat down, put my hands to my head. And I cried. That was the first time since the first grade that I ever remembered crying. After awhile, I sat back and closed my eyes. I had to get myself together. While figuring out what I was supposed to do, I fell asleep again. You know how sleepy you get after crying.”
“Well, that’s the story, boy.”
“Grandpa! You didn’t finish! What happened to you? Weren’t you scared? What happened to grandma? Where did everybody go?”
“Oh, well, when I woke up again, it was almost daylight, I could see much better, and everything had gone back to the way it was before. As I headed back home, another bus pulled up, but it was the kind of bus I was used to. A big jolly driver sat in the driver’s seat, and the coin machine sat right in front of him. It showed, “Fare: $1.25”.
“Grandpa, that doesn’t explain why you aren’t in any of grandma’s pictures.”
“Sure it does, kiddo. I had my camera with me when I sat at the bus station. When I woke up, I left it on the bench. I’d forgotten all about it. I left my camera in the future. I’m not in any of your grandma’s pictures because I was the only one without a camera, I had to take pictures for everybody else!”
I was just a kid, maybe ten. He was my favorite relative, he told the best stories.
“Sure, Grandpa,” I replied. I knew this would lead to a story and couldn’t help but play my part. “But why do you say that?”
“Well, let me tell you. You know how in our photo albums there are pictures of me when I was a kid, pictures of me when I was a teenager, and then nothing until I was much older and with your grandma?”
“Yeah, grandpa, daddy says some of your albums were lost during the war.”
“Well, sonny, that’s not quite the truth. Your daddy wanted to be nice, he didn’t want you to worry.” Grandpa looked around to see that nobody was coming. He leaned toward me, his warm breath smelled of oranges and mothballs. “You see, I was asleep.”
“What are you talking about, grandpa?”
“I was asleep. You don’t see any pictures of me from when I was 18 until I was 30, and it’s because I was asleep.”
“That’s silly. Nobody sleeps that much.”
“Sure they do. I was lucky enough to wake up again.”
I looked at him suspiciously. Most of his stories were about the war, how he flew a fighter jet into a whole squadron of enemy planes and shot them all down. They were believable. This was ridiculous. He must have thought I was still a little kid, that I’d believe anything he told me. My suspicion must have shown, for my grandpa leaned back again in his chair, tucked his chin in, and peered at me from over his glasses.
“Now, you don’t have to believe me, little guy, I’d expect any half-way decent person to look at me like that.”
“Grandpa, c’mon…”
“Now, now, listen to the story. Your dad wouldn’t have believed me either, if he hadn’t heard it, too.”
“Yeah, alright.” My mind was already on the digging toy he gave me for my birthday. It was worn out and scraped up, but I’d never seen anything like it. He called it a dumptruck. It had four big wheels and the back lifted off, so you could dump stuff out of it. It sat right in front of me, waiting to be filled with dirt.
“So, let’s see,” my grandpa began. “I was out the door, walking to the bus stop. Mind you, it wasn’t that much of a walk, maybe a mile. It felt so nice to walk that day. It was a little cold, but the sun was shining and I had a nice warm dinner in my tummy. Days like that make me want to sit down by a tree to nap. If every day were like that day, I thought to myself, why, I’d nap forever.”
“The living room clock showed quarter past the hour when I left. I knew I’d get there in plenty of time to catch a couple of Z’s. So, I whistled my way to the bus stop, put a few newspapers on the bench, made myself comfortable, and dozed.”
“That’s not much of a story, grandpa.”
“Relax, kid, I’m not through yet…. so I nodded off a bit, then, when I heard the bus coming, I awoke and waited for it.”
“The bus looked a little different from what I was used to, but they had been talking about getting new buses, so I just shrugged climbed aboard.”
"I pulled a few coins out of my pocket to pay, but there was no place to put it. I looked to the driver, but there was no driver, either. Just then, a sweet voice spoke to me out of nowhere. ‘Sir, that will be five dollars.’ I had fifty cents in my pocket. The last time I checked, bus fare was a dollar and a quarter. I looked around for whoever was talking to me. Nobody was there.”
“A boy, about your age, actually, was sitting right next to the door. He was looking right at me, so I asked him, ‘Where is she?’ The boy told me, ‘Sir, that’s the computer speaking. You’re supposed to pay.’ He pointed to a yellow post where the coin suppository would have been. ‘Put your finger on there, the fare will be deducted from your account’.”
“The bus had begun to move. On the top of the yellow post was a black square, about the size of a credit card. I put my finger on it. The nice lady’s voice spoke again. ‘Invalid account. Please try again.’ By now I was sure the computer was talking to me. I put my finger on the pad again, a little bit harder and longer. ‘Invalid marker. Please exit at the next stop. You are not an authorized user of this system.’ The sweet voice didn’t sound so nice to me now.
“Here I was, standing at the front of a full bus, with change in my hand. Everyone was looking at me. It was dark outside, I couldn’t even see where I was at. Then, I heard a sound behind me, like a garage door closing. I spun around to find a cage coming down, blocking me off from the rest of the bus. The floor square where I stood was white. It lit up, like a sidewalk on a Michael Jackson video.”
“Who’s Michael Jackson?” This story was making no sense to me at all. Of course I had taken the bus with my dad, so I knew how it worked, how ‘come grandpa didn’t? And what’s with having a driver, that sounded so silly. “Grandpa, buses don’t have drivers, don’t you know that?”
“Sweetheart, remember, this happened to me a
long, long time ago. Back when I was your age, people drove cars and buses and trucks. Some people’s jobs were to drive buses. And, when you got on the bus, you had to pay with coins, like the tokens you get at the video store.”
“Right, grandpa.” I was eyeballing the dumping toy.
“Well, I’m almost done, then you can make up you mind about it.” Grandpa patted me on the head. “So the floor lit up right under my feet. The bus began to slow down, and the voice came back. It said, ‘Please exit the vehicle.’ I really had no choice, so when the bus stopped, I stepped off. Lucky me, I could see from the water tower where I was at, and walked home.
Everything looked so different. Cars, houses, everything. I went by shop window and looked at my reflection. I was 18 years old, but I looked 40! I was so upset. On my way back home, I walked by the bus stop again. Right by the bus stop was a newspaper stand, the strangest looking one I ever did see. I looked at the front page. To me, it was the year 2001, but the papers read 2021. I was shaking. I sat down, put my hands to my head. And I cried. That was the first time since the first grade that I ever remembered crying. After awhile, I sat back and closed my eyes. I had to get myself together. While figuring out what I was supposed to do, I fell asleep again. You know how sleepy you get after crying.”
“Well, that’s the story, boy.”
“Grandpa! You didn’t finish! What happened to you? Weren’t you scared? What happened to grandma? Where did everybody go?”
“Oh, well, when I woke up again, it was almost daylight, I could see much better, and everything had gone back to the way it was before. As I headed back home, another bus pulled up, but it was the kind of bus I was used to. A big jolly driver sat in the driver’s seat, and the coin machine sat right in front of him. It showed, “Fare: $1.25”.
“Grandpa, that doesn’t explain why you aren’t in any of grandma’s pictures.”
“Sure it does, kiddo. I had my camera with me when I sat at the bus station. When I woke up, I left it on the bench. I’d forgotten all about it. I left my camera in the future. I’m not in any of your grandma’s pictures because I was the only one without a camera, I had to take pictures for everybody else!”
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