by Ken Kreps
©2002, all rights reserved

To read more short stories and articles by author Ken Kreps, visit http://www.kenkreps.com.
To send an e-mail to the author, click here.

"Man, I...I must have dozed off for a few minutes," Charlie thought.  "Well, we should be at my stop in a couple of ...Hey, what the....  Where are the other passengers?  We've stopped!  Where's the driver?"

"They've all gone.  He took them."

Charlie turned with a start to see a poorly dressed old woman sitting three rows behind him.  He wondered why he hadn't seen her.  He was sure she wasn't there when he'd looked before.

"Who are you?  You weren't here a minute ago?"

"Sure I was," The old woman said.  "You just didn't see me."

"What do you mean they've all gone?  Where have they gone?"

"Just gone."

"This is ridiculous.  I'm going to look for the driver.  Maybe we've broken down and he went to get help."

"We didn't break down," she responded.  "He stopped it and then he took them."

"That's the second time you've said that.  Do you mean the driver took the passengers?"

"No, he took them."

"Look lady, I'm getting really tired of your riddles.  Who is he and who are you?  What's your name?"

"I don't have one, yet."

Everyone has a name," Charlie said.

"Not me."

"OK, that's it.  I'm going to get off of this bus and see where we are."

"We aren't anywhere."

"Sure., lady...whatever you say," Charlie said.  "We aren't anywhere."

"It sure is dark out there," Charlie thought.  "I can't see a thing.  OK, Charlie, open the door and let's find out what's going on."  The door opened with an air compressed whoosh.

"Now, we'll just step outside and see what's... what the...my leg...oh my God, my leg."

Panicked, Charlie jumped back into the bus and began running down the narrow aisle.

"Hey, Lady, for God's sake what's going on he...wha…where did she go?"

A soldier in full battle dress sat where the old lady had been.

"Sergeant Carl Conover, sir, at your service."

"Where's the old lady?" Charlie asked.

"I didn't see any old lady, sir."

"What are you, some kind of soldier?  You're wearing full combat gear."

"Yes, sir, we attack at dawn."

By now Charlie's patience was wearing thin.  "Attack who?" he demanded.

"I really don't know, sir."

Looking around the bus Charlie thought, "I must be losing my mind.  First, all the other passengers disappear except for one batty old woman.  Then that thing with my leg and now I'm stuck with Rambo who doesn't remember who he's supposed to attack at dawn."

"Sergeant, do you have any idea where we are?" Charlie asked.

"No sir."

"Do you remember how you got here?"

"No sir, sorry."

"What's the last thing you remember before getting on this bus?"

"The soldier looked puzzled as he said, " I...don't remember anything other than we were going to attack at dawn.  I don't even remember getting on the bus."

"OK. Let’s try this from the top...and slowly...just relax Sergeant.  You remembered your name, right?"

"Yes sir, I'm Carl Conover."

"What's your serial number, soldier?"

"I don't know what a serial number is, sir."

"Come on, Sergeant, every man and woman in the armed forces remembers their serial number.  It's the number they give you when you first joined. You use it practically every day."

"Sorry, sir...I...I don't know."

"OK, what outfit are you in?"

"I'm sorry sir, but I don't know that either."

"You know your name...you know your supposed to attack at dawn and that's it?"

"That's all I can remember."

From the distance Charlie heard a sound he couldn't make out at first, and then suddenly he realized it was the sound of a small child laughing.

"Sergeant, did you hear that?"

"Yes Sir."

"Somebody's out there.  We've got to let them know we're here."

"Maybe we should get off the bus and try to find them," the soldier suggested.

I tried that and my leg just...uh, never mind.  We can't get off the bus, but if I open the bus door again, maybe they can hear us.

Running down the aisle of the bus to the front, Charlie put his weight behind the heavy handle that opened the bus door.  It flew open with a whoosh.

"Hey, over here, we need help.  Hey, somebody, over here," he shouted.

For just an instant Charlie thought he heard a child's laughter again, but he couldn't be sure.  There was no other response to his call for help.

"That won't do any good."

Spinning around Charlie saw the same old lady sitting a few seats from the back of the bus.

"My God, you're back. Where did you go?"

"There isn't any place to go," she said.  "There's this bus and there's nothing."

"Look, lady, I have really had it with you.  You babble about things that make no sense at all and now you tell me there's no place to go and....wait a minute...where's the Sergeant who was just here?"

"He's gone."

"I can see that, but how can people just keep appearing and disappearing?"

"I guess he took him."

"That's it," Charlie said throwing up his hands.  "You're a certified loony and you're starting to make me act the same way."

Charlie began pacing up and down the bus aisle.

"We need to remain calm and think our way through this," Charlie thought.   "We can't go for help so...so we have to bring help to us.  If only I had a cell phone, we could...wait a minute, up there...in the front.  That's it.  The driver's phone.  I can use the drivers phone."

"No you can't."

"Lady, shut up.  I'm going to call for help."

"There's no one to call."

"Are you blind?  Last night, I rode a bus just like this one to work.  This is a bustling city, with people and activity everywhere.  What do you mean there's no one to call?  We're in the middle of a major city."

"You'll see."

"Yeah, I'll see all right," Charlie thought as he walked to the front of the bus.  "She must hit the sauce pretty hard."

Charlie lifted the phone off it's cradle above the drivers seat.  It was a plain black phone with no visible buttons.

"Hello, Hello.  Anybody there?  We're trapped on one of your buses.  We don't know where we are, we can't get off, the driver's gone and.....hello…..hello.  Ahh, the phone is dead."

"I told you there was no one to call."

Lady the phone is dead  The phone is dead.  That's all.  I have a wife and two children out there and the world is full of people to call and.....and….where did you come from?"

To Charlie's complete astonishment, a man had appeared before his eyes.  He was looking right at the seat and one minute the man wasn't there and the next minute he was.  He was dressed in slacks, a white shirt, black bow tie and an apron.  In his hands he carried a large glass and a thin towel.

"I...I don't know exactly," the man said.  Well, I mean I know where I came from but I don't exactly know how I got here.  Is this a bus?"

"That's right, pal, this is a bus.  Hey, you said you know where you came from. That's a start.  Where did you come from?"

"Finnigans."

"Finnigans?"

"Yeah, Finnigans Bar and Grill over on 6th Street.  I'm Barney the night bartender."

"I've never heard of it, but I guess that explains the glass and towel in your hands.  I'm Charlie and apparently, the old woman doesn't know her name."

"I was behind the bar washing glasses and all of a sudden I'm sitting on this bus and you're asking me where I came from.  What's going on here?  This has got to be a bad dream."

"Let's hope so Barney.  Let's hope we all wake up from this nightmare in a few minutes."

"It's no nightmare. He's doing it."

"What's that?" Barney asked.

"Don't pay any attention to her.  She's been babbling like that ever since I first saw her.  She's as nutty as a fruit cake."

Barney looked puzzled.  "What does she mean, he's doing it.  Does she mean God?

"Well, you could call him that I suppose," the old woman responded.

"Forget her.  Look Barney, you seem like a reasonable guy.  We can't get off the bus and we can't phone for help.  I've tried both.  Do you have any ideas?"

"Where are we?" Barny asked.

"I have no idea.  I take this bus every morning from where I work on the west side of town to my home on the east side.  I have to assume we're somewhere along that route."

"No we're not." The old woman chimed in.

Looking toward the front of the bus Barney asked, "Where's the driver?"

"I dozed off and when I woke up we were stopped and the driver and all of the passengers were gone except for that crazy old woman over there."

"Maybe the driver stopped the bus and got off when the windshield fell out."

"What do you mean when the windshield fell out.  There's nothing wrong with the..."

Looking toward the front of the bus, Charlie could see the windshield was now totally missing and only a black void was visible through the gaping hole where it had been.

"It's gone.  Barney, it was there just a minute ago, and now the whole windshield is gone."

Barney rubbed his eyes as he said, "This has to be a very bad dream."

"No, it's not a dream," the woman warned.

Charlie rose from his seat and took a few quick steps toward the rear of the bus, finally sitting down in the seat in front of the old woman.  Barney followed him.

"OK, lady. You're three bricks short of a load, but you seem to know what's going on so let's have it.  Where are we and what's happening to us?  How do we get out of here?"

"Get out of here to go where?"

"Home, lady...home so I can try to forget this ever happened."

"You don't have a home anymore.  He took it."

Charlie's voice rose in anger as he said, "Lady, of course I have a home.  I just left it nine hours ago and if you say he took it one more time, I'll...."

"Calm down Charlie, " Barney interrupted.  "Look, lady, can you tell us anything that will help us?"

"Help us?"

"Yes, help us get out of here."

A knowing look crossed the old woman's face as she said, "No. I think he wants to take me now."

She struggled in her seat, twisting and turning as if battling some unseen force.

"No, I don't want to go.  No, please let me stay. Please le....."

"My God, she just disappeared into thin air.  She was sitting right there and then she just vanished."

"That's not all, Barney.  I think we must be going mad.  Lo...look at the front of the bus."

It looks the same," Barney said.  And then with realization, "No, the front door is gone."

"Barney, we have to be in a dream.  But, if it's a dream, which one of us is having it and does that mean the other one isn't real?"

"Oh man, that's too heavy for me.  I know who I am and I certainly feel real. How about you?"

"Of course I'm real.  I have a family.  I've worked in the same job for seventeen years. I am real I tell you."

"I believe you Charlie, but I have a family, too.  I own a home and I have worked at Finnigans for over ten years.  Look, if this is a dream and we can't go anywhere, maybe just talking will help pass the time.  You say you've been on the same job for seventeen years.  Where do you work?"

"At the large plant on the west edge of town."

"I don't remember any large plant.  What do you do there?"

An odd look crossed Charlie's face as he said, "Well, I, ah...I...that's funny I can't remember what
I do."

"I thought you said you've worked there for seventeen years."

"I have."

"And you don't remember what you do?"

"I know that sounds crazy, but I don't.  God help me, I don't."

"Charlie, What's happening to us?"

"I don't know Barney, but I think we'd better move further back in the bus."

"Move further back?  What do you mean....Oh, my God, all of the bus in front of the first row of seats is gone...at least I hope that's the first row of seats.  You said we couldn't get off of the bus.  Are you sure about that?"

"I'm sure.  Is that a fairly heavy glass in your hands, Barney?"

"Yeah, it's pretty heavy.  Why?
 
"Throw it into the blackness where the front of the bus used to be."

"What's that going to prove?"

"Humor me.  Just throw it and then be very quiet for a few seconds."

"OK, here goes."

Barney cocked his arm and let the glass fly towards the front of the bus.  When it reached the black void where the driver's seat and windshield used to be, it disappeared from sight.

"Well, what did you hear?"

"What do you mean?"

"What did you hear after you threw the glass?"

"Nothing."

Don't you think that's strange?"

"Well, I..."

"You just threw a heavy glass off this bus and we didn't hear it break.  We didn't hear it hit the pavement or a tree or anything.  Barney, I think anything that leaves this bus just disappears.  Remember when the old lady said there's this bus and there's nothing."

"That's insane  You said yourself that she's crazy."

"Before you got here, I tried to get off the bus and when I put my leg on the ground, it disappeared.  I don't mean I just couldn't see it...I mean it was gone from my body.  When I stepped back into the bus, it was there again."

"That's impossible."

"Sure it is, but it happened and it's no more impossible than you're being in Finnigans one minute and then suddenly finding yourself on this bus.  And its no more impossible than people and things disappearing into thin air."

"Look Charlie, last night I took my boy to the basketball game.  There were twelve thousand screaming fans there.  That wasn't nothing.  Those were real people."

"A while ago, I couldn't remember what my job at the plant was, yet you remembered you're a bartender.  Lets take that a bit farther.  Where were you raised?"

Barney thought for a moment before saying, "I...I don't remember."

"What's you wife's name, Barney?  How many kids do you have?"

"I can't remember."

"I can't remember where I was raised," Charlie admitted.  "Or my wife's name or what she looks like, how many kids I have and what their names are.  Something is slowly erasing our memories."

"But why and how?"

"I don't know, but three more rows of seats in the front of the bus have disappeared.  The blackness is getting closer.  I'm moving to the back seat of the bus."

Barney and Charlie hurriedly rose from their seats and moved to the extreme rear of the bus, sitting on the last seat.

"Have you ever thought about death, Charlie?"

"Sure. You?"

"Once in awhile, but I never thought it would be like this."

"Me either.  Maybe we're already dead and just don't know it."

The old woman re-appeared in the seat in front of them.  "No you're not," she said.
 
"You came back, but how?" Barney asked.

"He sent me to tell you not to be frightened.  He's worried about you."

"But you just disappeared right in front of our eyes," Charlie said.

"He took me and now he sent me back."

Barney thought for a moment before saying, "Is the he you're talking about really God?"

"Not really, but as far as we're concerned, that's a pretty good description," she said.

"Lady, you've got to tell us everything you know.  You know what's causing all this don't you?"

"I know some of it...not all."

"You've got to tell us what you know, " Barney pleaded.

"Oh no, I can't."

"Why?"

"He doesn't want me to.  But, he wants me to tell both of you that good things are going to happen to you."

"I've never been what you could call a religious person," Charlie said, "but...."

Barney looked at Charlie and said, "I've been a good Irish Catholic all of my life, but it didn't prepare me for anything like this."

The faint sounds of a child laughing was again heard in the distance.

"See, there is someone out there," Barney said before shouting, "Hey, over here.  We're over here."

"That won't do any good," the old woman cautioned.

"That's the first thing she's said I agree with, Barney.  I'm afraid she's right. That won't help."

"What do you mean, won't help?  Didn't you hear that?  It sounded like someone laughing."

"Yeah, I heard it and I've heard it before.  I tried to call to them, but nobody answered."

The old woman leaned closer.  "He says everything will be all right.  Just get with the program."

Get with the program," Charlie exclaimed.  "I don't...."

"Get with the program?  What does that mean?" Charlie asked.

"Just what it says," the woman answered.

"Does getting with the program have anything to do with what's been happening to us?"

"It has everything to do with what's happening," she said.

"So, If Barney and I get with the program does that mean we can find some way out of here?"

Barney was obviously distressed before shouting, "For God's sake, you've got to tell us what you know."

"I can't say any more."

"Look, Barney, there's only four rows of seats left in front of us."

"We can't move back any further."

"Think. If we could only figure out what "get with the program'" meant, we might be able to figure a way out of this."

Barney rose from his seat and looked out the bus window into the blackness.  "Get out of this," he said.  "I'll tell you how we are going to get out of this.  It's a dream.  It's gotta be.  None of this is real.  In just a few minutes I'm going to wake up, look over at my wife on the other side of the bed, get up, go downstairs and make a fresh pot of coffee.  That's how I'm going to get out of this.  Maybe I can't remember my wife's name. but I know that she's...oh, God...now there's only three rows of seats left."

Charlie was almost talking to himself when he said, "Get with the program.  Get with the program.  If only I could figure out what that means."

"Lady, this he you keep referring to.  Is he making all this happen?"

She hesitated before saying, "Well...yes...you could say that."

"He sent you here with a message for us.  Can you take a message from us back to him?" Charlie asked.

"Oh no...no, I couldn't do that."

"Why not?"

"He thinks I know too much already.  No, I can't take him a message."

Much calmer now, Barney said, "Look, there's only two rows left ahead of us."

Knowing that time was short, Charlie looked at the old woman. "Lady, this bus is slowly disappearing.  That can't be real.  None of this can be real.  What's outside the bus?"

"Nothing."

"How can there be nothing?"

"It's a dream," Barney said  "It's got to be a dream."

"I told you, just get with the program and everything will be all right."

Charlie knew any hopes they now had rested with understanding what the old woman meant.
"We have no idea what that means.  What kind of program?"

"The program," she responded.

Are we going to die?" Charlied asked.  "Or...are we already dead?"

"You both have wonderful lives ahead of you.  He doesn't want you to worry."

Charlie pressed on.  "Then why is he doing this to us?

"Just some changes," She said.

"What kind of changes?"

"I've said too much already."

"Barney, you really think this is a dream?"

"No, it's real.  Well, as real as things get for us, anyway," the old woman said.

Charlie knew he must keep asking questions.  "What happens when the rest of the bus disappears?
Will we disappear with it?"

"You'll do just fine."

See," Barney said, "it is a dream."

"I don't know Barney.  Maybe she's right.  Have you ever had a dream this real and you were aware it was a dream while it was going on?"

"No, but it's a dream all right.  I have to believe it's just a dream."

"I really want to believe that.  Look, now there's only one row of seats ahead of us."

Now incredibly calm, Barney said, "Soon, we'll wake up and this will all be over.  We'll be back with our families and we'll forget all about this."

"Barney how did we get into each others dreams...the same dream?"

"Who knows, it's just a dream."

"Things will be better soon," the old woman promised. "quite soon.  He wants me back. I have to go now."

"Will you be back?"

"No, I don't think so.  Bye."

"She's gone again.  She just vanished," Barney said.

"Guess we have nothing to do now but wait."

"Keep talking, Charlie.  Even though I know it's a dream, I can't stand silence right now."

"OK, we'll talk.  You said you took your boy to the basketball game the other night.  Where was the game?"

"Well, at the Fresno State Field House, of course."

"Fresno State?  Isn't that in California?  Wait a minute.  Where's Finnigans...you know, the bar you work in?"

"Right here in Fresno.  Where else did you think it would be?"

"Remember the plant I work in I told you about?"

"Sure."

"It's on the west side of Chicago.  That's where I got on this bus."

"Come on, Charlie."

"No, I'm serious. We didn't even get to this bus from the same city."

"What difference does it make.  It's just a crazy dream.  It's not real."

"I don't know what's real and what isn't, anymore."

"The last row of seats is gone.  This rear seat's all that's left of the bus.  I 'm scared, Charlie."

"Yeah, me too, Barney.  If you're right, it's only a dream.  If the old lady's right, everything is going to be OK.  But if neither one of you are right......"

"How could this happen?"

"I don't know.  I don't know anything, anymore.  Thirty minutes ago, I got on a bus to go home
like I have every night.  Now...nothing makes sense."

"Do you have any idea what "get with the program" means?" Barney asked.

"No, I've been thinking about that too, but it doesn't make any....sense...wait...maybe it does.  Oh, God, maybe it does."

"What,?  Tell me."

"It would explain so much that's happened to us, and it would also mean everything we've believed all of our lives is false.  It would.......Barney, look at the front of your legs.  They're gone.  The black void is right at the edge of the back seat."

With absolute calm Barney said, "There's no pain. I can't feel anything."

"Are you still afraid, Barney?"

"No, not anymore.  How about you?"

"No, my legs are gone now, too, but I'm not afraid."

"Tell me what you think "get with the program" means?"

"If I'm right, we'll be OK just like the old lady said."

"And if you're wrong?"

"No time left.  I feel myself slipping away."

"Me too."

"Good-bye, Barney."

"Good-bye, Charlie"

The last sound Barney and Charlie heard was the faint laughter of a child in the distance.

The child sat at the computer in his room.  It was a typical room for a young boy with posters of athletes, music stars and space craft on the wall.  None of that, however, was of any importance to the boy at this moment.  He laughed with glee as he concentrated on the computer screen.  His mother and father stood in the doorway.

"Look at him, Henry.  Timmy's having so much fun and he's totally wrapped up in that new game."

"I Know.  Boy those computer game people just keep topping themselves, don't they."

"Yes, but this game really scares me."

"Oh, come on Karen.  Sure, it's the latest thing on the software shelves, but it's still just a game.  You're just being an overly protective mother."

"Well maybe so, but this game is so different from all the others."

"Look, we both talked to the salesman about it before we bought it and we both agreed Timmy had the computer skills and emotional maturity to handle it."

"I know," she said.  "But this game lets Timmy create virtual people in the computer and give them lives and memories and control how they interact with each other."

"Well, its not like he was controlling real people.  They're just in the computer."

"But they think they're real!"

"For God's sake Karen, it's only a game.  Having them think they're real is what makes it so interesting."

"Oh, I suppose you're right.  Come on Timmy.  Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes."

"OK, Mom," the boy said.  "I just need another second.  I'm just finishing a few changes with some of the characters.  I deleted the bus.  I was getting tired of it and I deleted the old woman, too.  She followed my instructions all right, but she seemed to somehow know she was in a computer game and she knew about me.  Maybe if I had given her a name.  Anyway, the computer company said it was a software bug they'd fix in the next release.  And you remember Charlie who worked in the plant?"

"Oh, I like Charlie.  You're not going to get rid of him too are you?"

"No, Mom," the boy chuckled.  "I like him too.  I gave him and a few other characters better lives with new memories.  The transition was kind of hard on them, but they're starting to get with the program.  I'll look in on them again right after dinner.  I mean, I am sort of responsible for them."

"All right, honey," his mother said.

As she walked down stairs she thought, "Timmy worries about those people as if they were real.   Henry's right...It's just a computer game.  What could the harm be?"

"Will there be anything else tonight, Sir?" the butler asked.

The man looked up from the huge leather easy chair in which he was sitting, smiled and said, "No, Charles, that will be all.  Why don't you turn in."

"Thank you sir.  I believe I'll just do that.  Goodnight, Sir."

"Charles, after all of the years you've worked here...well, you're like family.  How many times have I asked you to call me by my first name?"

"Yes sir…..sorry sir.  Goodnight Barney."

Charlie, or Charles has taken his last bus ride from the plant.  His only memories are of working as the butler for the same employer for the past twenty three years.  He considers stopping by to chat with his friend Carl Conover who has worked for Barney as his chauffeur for many years.   But, it's late and he continues past Carl's room toward his own.  As he walks through the vast halls of the mansion with their plush carpeting and rich wood paneling, he feels contentment because everything around him is so familiar.  And if there's one thing Charles likes, it's things that are familiar.

Like Charles, many of us go through life surrounded by the familiar faces of our family, friends and co-workers.  Each day, we interact with many of them and this helps bring stability and order into our lives.  Perhaps now would be a good time to take a closer look at the familiar people in your life and ask yourself this question.  Are they real?  And more importantly.….ARE YOU?

©2002 by Ken Kreps. This work of fiction may not be re-published in electronic or print media without the express written permission of the author. All rights reserved.

Click Here to read more short stories by Ken Kreps.