2 Chapter 2

It was time. I stepped up on the bus and headed down the aisle with the other sheep, resisting the urge to say baaaalike I had always done as a child. The only seat left was halfway down, next to an overweight older man who looked none too clean. But hey, I was going to a church college—this would be good Christian practice. Maybe I could do something nice for him. Or maybe I could catch lice, which is what actually happened, but that wasn’t something I found out until later.

I sat, nodded at him, and opened the letter. The older man looked over my shoulder, and to be polite, I looked away a minute. That gave him time to knock my arm, and the letter fell on the floor and flew up several rows under people’s feet. I was aghast.

Then the man said, “Here’s the fifty-dollar bill that was in it. It was just wrapped up in the blank paper. I’m sorry I bumped you. Damn arthritis, ha-ha!”

“It’s from my dad,” I said slowly, taking the money. It was a lot to me and meant a lot, too.