Square Drive

'How come you haven't got a car yet?' Pete asked me on our way to the cafeteria.

'I do have one', I replied, 'but a pretty old one'

'So you don't drive it to work?' He inquired

'I prefer taking the bus', I said. And Pete replied with a "Oh. Ok. That's cool".

I knew he meant to say, "Oh that's weird", but the American politeness came in his way. Even when it snowed, I liked to walk the mile and board the bus from Frederick transit center and board my Route M. There were a few regular co-passengers too - not many who could afford a car. Some of them eventually became good friends with me. The driver of the bus had become a special friend. He didn’t know me by my name. He knew me as Maha's son. My dad and he had a special bond.

My Dad was with me last summer. He had come to visit me. More than wanting to see me, he wanted to see America. The great things he had heard about the country from his nephews and nieces. I think one of his brother still lives somewhere here in the U.S. He was one of those uncles whose name we often heard, but never got an opportunity to see. He was always 'Siddha from America'. I asked him once about him and my dad told me never to ask about him again. I never did. From the day he landed in Washington Dulles airport, he was in awe of the country. He loved the roads, the cars, the downtown and almost everything about the country. He wasn't impressed by the bus service in the city though. I had warned him about it before, but then he came and saw that spotting a bus is in suburbs is like spotting a shooting star.

Within a few days of being under house arrest, I could see that he was becoming highly frustrated. His evening walks couldn't keep him happy. I decided to take him with me, twice a week, when I went to work. He would ride the bus with me, and sit at the library reading his books. I would meet him for lunch and then he would take the bus back. I was reluctant at first to let him get back by himself, but then I trusted the man's sense of direction. It was like a GPS fitted in his head. It took some time for him to get used to the exits in the freeways, but otherwise, he could've gone around driving my car all by himself. Just that he never drove a car in his life. And I imagined that cars were not his thing.

The first day I took him on the bus ride, he was a child all over again. He was excited, to say the least. As we boarded the bus he went straight in to take a seat. "Woah, where do you think you are going?" Shouted the driver. 'He is with me', I said and put the coins in the slot. I took the seat next to my dad and his first question was - "There is no conductor?". I explained to him that the bus driver doubles up as a conductors out here and lets you in only if you pay or have a pass. He was surprised. 'Wouldn't that slow the bus down?'. I just nodded and let him enjoy the ride. The next ride of the week, as soon as he got into the bus, he looked at the driver and said, "Good Morning". 'Mornin' replied back the driver. And as we took our ride, he told me that he had seen the other day that everyone getting into the bus were wishing the driver. He was getting used to the American way of life.

It was fun watching him explore the small things by himself. I got the jolt when I started working here in America. There was this guy who would pass by me a hundred times on a given day and ask me, "Hey, How’re you doing" a hundred times. He never stopped to hear how I was doing though. Back in my home, the last time I had asked the question "how are you doing" was when one of my colleague returned after having met with an accident.

The second week was fun. My dad decided to sit in the front seat to take a look at how the driver was operating. "No clutch" was his first observation. I just nodded.

After the bus took the freeway, he stood up and went closer to the driver.

'You ain't gonna get down here man', the driver told him without taking his eyes off the road.

 'Just looking', my father said in his broken English.

He turned back to me and said '60 km/hr'.

'Miles', the driver said.'60 miles/hr'

'Oh. Ok Ok. Super-fast', my dad said nodding.

'I too drive', he said. 'You know SLTB bus?'

'The what?' The driver exclaimed.

'SLTB bus. I drive . Not so modern buses. Very old buses. With gears', my dad said

'You mean you are a driver too?' Asked the driver.

'Yes. Yes. I drive in Colombo’.

'Columbus?'

'No. No. Colombo'

'Colombia?'

'Noo. Colombo – Sri Lanka'

'Where the heck is that' the driver was confused. 'Is that a city?'

'You don't know Sri Lanka? It is my country'

'Oh. Never heard of that man'.

'You know India?', my dad wouldn't let go.

'Oh ya. I know India. There are a lot of people from India around here. I know India alright'. I smiled.

You don't get to hear pure cynicism very often.

'Yes. Sri Lanka – Near India'

'I see. What brings you here? Don't tell me you are gonna take my job away man' exclaimed the driver and he laughed out loud. Someone from the backside of the bus shouted back, 'mmmHmmm he's gonna take your job away alright. As long as the democrats are in there'.

'I don't know about that' the driver shouted back 'The republicans are assholes too'.

'All of them are', shouted another guy and the whole bus was buzzing.

My dad kept staring at the bus' dashboard. 'I drive old bus. Very old bus. This one like volvo bus'

The driver just nodded. I am sure he didn't catch much of that.

After a bit, it was getting slightly weird and I wanted my dad to come back and take a seat. When he got back to the seat, I told him not to keep asking questions. That the driver may not like it too much. And when he pretended not to listen, I shouted at him. He didn't talk much after that. I hate to see my dad go quiet. He is usually this live wire and I, quite the opposite. I wished my mom was around. My dad usually behaved better when she is around. She wasn't game to come to a different country and "struggle". The actual reason was that she was afraid of flying. And my dad happily took the chance to get away from her. Something about old couples - they take the first opportunity to take a break from each other.

The routine continued for a few days. My dad kept hopping on to the bus rides with me and he returned by himself. He said Dominick had become a good friend of his. Dominick was of course the bus driver. I couldn’t even understand how they could converse. My dad actually knew quite a bit about him in a short while. He knew his children’s name, his dog’s breed, where his ex-wife stayed amongst a thousand other things. It made me realize how different both of them were from each other, but yet so similar. My dad had spent all his life driving the bus in the busy streets of Colombo. Not the most enjoyable job by any imagination, but then the kind of passion he showed towards it and the content he had, made me think about the thanklessness people like me had for our jobs. I am sure Dominick was no different.  

Before even he knew, it was almost time for dad to go back. He was visibly sad about it. A night before he were to leave, I returned home to find that he wasn’t around. At first I thought he had gone out for a stroll. He does that sometimes when he gets bored. When he did not return for an hour, I started to become a bit worried. It was getting dark and his phone was not reachable too. It was the worst feeling ever. I was contesting calling 911, but then I was not sure if I should. I called up a couple of friends of mine who came over to my place. We decided to split up and look around the community. I kept driving around looking for him. The community was a pretty safe one. But then, it’s an old man with limited linguistic abilities roaming around the streets. I started missing my dad. I regretted getting him over to live alone in a new country.

I drove around and finally was about to give up. I was really close to the bus bay and I thought I should check in there once. I went to the bus stand and stared around. But it seemed to be empty apart from a bunch of homeless people trying to hang around. As I was about to leave, I saw a bus entering the bay. It was odd to see a bus in that hour. As much as I knew, the last bus operated only till 8 PM. I waited to see if my dad is in it. As it stopped, the door opened and I had the shock of my life. There sat my dad in the driver’s seat! Dominick stood behind him and waved to me. My dad got down from the bus and shook Dominick’s hand before he got out. ‘Take care of yourself, my friend. I will definitely make it to Colombo and you better get me a bus to drive out there in the busy traffic’, said Dominick as my dad alighted screaming ‘Sure.Sure’.

My dad told me that Dominick had offered a drink and he had gone with him. I was so glad that I had not called the cops. Apparently he left a note on the door, which must have disappeared. I was feeling furious and wanted to scream at him. But I didn’t. I smiled and we went home. I got a feeling that it was one of happiest days of dad’s life. Or at least, it was one of the happiest he looked.

Soon after my dad was gone, I got another job offer and moved to a different city in Ohio. Spotting a bus there was like spotting a meteor. But whenever I did, I remembered the international driver duo and their partnership.