My final days in Tallahassee were spent packing and unpacking my suitcase, and running errands to wrap up a few projects, among them album art for one of my band's new 'single', and documenting some 'on the road' art which had been diminishing in quality due to riding around in my backpack for over a week. I called my parents often, knowing well that it will not be as easy to communicate when I get to Amsterdam. On the phone with my mom, I was happy to hear that she was coming up through Tallahassee, on her way to visit my sister in Panama City. The Dennis Family kindly offered to host her for dinner. She drove up the next day with her two dogs, a labradoodle and a shitzu-poodle mix, (they are too cute for words). I'd thought about my mom meeting the Dennis Family a number of times before this night, curious as to what we would talk about etc. Karen prepared an incredible meal as usual. The table filled with side dishes and quickly resembled a thanksgiving celebration. Conversation was natural and fluid. My mom seemed beside herself with love and gratitude, an effect being around the Dennis Family has on people. After dinner my mom and I exchanged gifts outside, and she continued on to meet my sister two hours west.
Two days later, Carl drove me to the Greyhound station in the afternoon. I caught a bus to Jacksonville, then had a few hour layover before boarding a Chinatown bus to New York City. I arrived at the designated bus pick-up spot, an Exxon station by the Jacksonville airport. I went inside to inquire wether I was in the right place. The attendant assured me that I was but was adamant that Exxon had nothing to do with the bus. Continuing this conversation, she told me that the bus just "started showing up one day, three years ago.", and that everything that they know about the bus service comes from talking to patrons of the gas station. She said it is usually scheduled to come at 7:45pm, but was subject to delays. 7:45 came and went and I took comfort in my new friends insights. The bus arrived at 9pm to pick up myself and a few other passengers. There was a family that was turned away by an aggressive asian bus line employee for not having their confirmation numbers. They had already been waiting for three days at that point due to prior complications with the company. The bus was comfortable. I met my seat mate in Savannah, GA. His name was Paul. He was on his way to New York to get his belongings and apartment allocated before his travels to Bulgaria, where he would teach a psychology course in english to undergraduate students. We learned that we had the same departure date and acknowledged the serendipity. Paul was respectful and hygienic, the perfect companion for a 24 hour bus ride up the east coast.
Somewhere in North Carolina, our driver announced that the southbound bus from New York had blown a tire, the solution to which was to rent a bus from a third party company and take that down. The third party company however, did not want their bus traveling as far south as Florida, so the plan became to meet with our bus in the middle of the night, and transfer northbound passengers and cargo onto the new bus and southbound passengers and cargo onto our bus. We met the other bus in North Carolina at 4am. The bus lights turned on and the passengers scrambled to get their cargo from under our bus, and onto the new bus. It became quite chaotic, as the southbound bus was doing the same. I got my suitcase transferred onto the new bus and began stretching in the parking lot.
I heard my name called, "Kemeys..?". I looked to see my friend Daniel, suitcase in hand and a guitar strapped on his back. Daniel and I have been friends for years through Cosby, his cousin and my classmate. It was great to see him, another batch of serendipity.
On our respective buses, we made our ways to our destinations.
Our bus rolled into Chinatown, NYC in the afternoon. I walked to the intersection of Grand and East Broadway, where I would stay with my friends Franco and Andre for the next week.
It feels like I never left.
