Rock City Bus Depot
Wednesday July 19, 1933
10:42 PM

“Don’t leave yet!” Mary shouts as she runs down the street toward the red neon glow of the bus station. She wobbles from the white laundry bag in her left hand weighing her down, holding her back. The bus spouts a dark cloud that rises into the moonlight as it pulls away. Mary’s face drops into disappointment, her legs give up running and resign themselves to a slow walk. Arriving at the porter, she asks “Was that the #7 to Detroit?” “Yep.” he replies. “Drat.” as she walks to the ticket booth, attended by a young woman her age.

“Coffee?” the woman asks in a very familiar tone.
“Why not. I’ll be here a while.”
“You missed a good one tonight.” as she hands Mary the coffee.
“The #7 always has the best ones.”
“There was a man who got stuck by himself with his four bratty kids. He ain’t making any friends. You want to join me for smoke?”
“No, I’m just going to sit in my usual spot.”

Mary takes her coffee and laundry bag to the row of benches that run down the center of the station. They are like islands of a boulevard with people travelling up and down either side. This is where Mary frequently spends her nights, watching people come and go from Rock City. Pontificating as to their lives, what brought them here, and what takes them away. She likes to guess if they’ll ever be back, occasionally proving herself right or wrong when she spots a familiar face.

Mary Helen Bronowski was born 1909 in Brooklyn, NY shortly after her parents emigrated from Poland. They gave her the most American name they could. As American as she was her parents still raised her as if they were in Poland. They tried to anyway. Mary always had a habit of finding a way to put raise herself in new ways if her parents weren’t going to, beginning with education. They were quite content with Mary learning to be a seamstress from her mother. She was not, and convinced the school teacher that lived in their building to teach her to read since her parents wouldn’t send her to school. Her lessons continued after she turned 9 and began working as a seamstress until the teacher moved when Mary was 12. This was all the catalyst Mary needed to spend everyday Saturday reading at the Brooklyn Public Library.

Mary was short and sturdy having inherited her mother’s frame but never subjecting it to the harshness of farm work and tending to five offspring. She preferred simple dresses in white, even though they were all mostly a dull greyish color from working at the laundry. The past brightness of her face is now shrouded behind weariness. Her hands well beyond their age from a lifetime of dry fabric, pin pricks, and soapy water.

Tonight’s observations begin in the diner, appearing magical as the dim lights create soft cones in the perpetual haze of cigarette smoke. There is a lively middle aged black man wearing a crumpled suit that fits the tone of the era perfectly; a lone set of fancy clothes worn into dullness and disrepair. The matching skin on his face can’t hold back his inner brightness or his smile. His spirit having evaded the fate of his suit erupts from the depths of his soul, over his vocal cords, and out his mouth in the form of a booming blues song. Mary stares at him from across the station pondering how a man that looks so down can sing with so much life.

Attempting to sing along is a travelling salesman. He slurs out half formed words and sounds as he weaves his way toward her. As He passes by the smell of many a bottle of wine from his mouth and the cheap perfume from his case waft toward her. She coughs as politely as she can, knowing that if she catches his attention she won’t be able to get rid of it. The drunken salesman continues his swaggered path down the boulevard until he chooses a bench to pass out on; instantly asleep and snoring. Mary’s face saddens as she listens to his snores reverberate off the hard surfaces of the station. She turns away, reminded of her father that she was here to escape.

A tall, rail thin man made of nothing but bones and muscles saunters into the station with a bundle made of a thin wool blanket effortlessly thrown over his shoulder. He wears a fedora hat that doesn’t match his faded denim work pants and jacket. The recent cleaning and shining of his work boots can’t hide their recent years of dirt, sweat, and daily labor. Mary is curious as he’s not like anyone else she’s ever seen at the station. Everyone else moves like they belong there, like they have a purpose. They know when and why they are there, but not this man. He just sort of wanders like he’s not sure if he’ll stay or go elsewhere. She watches intently as he ends up at the ticket booth and looks over the departure board.

“You ever been to any of these places?” he asks the ticket agent.
“Nope.”
“Just give me a ticket for the 11:15 then.”
“Where you headed?”
“I don’t know quite yet.”
“Dollar fifteen.”

She stamps out a ticket as he digs the coins out of his pockets and slides them through the window. He takes his ticket then continues his confidently apprehensive exploration of the station.

Neil Ross was born in 1911 as the seventh of eight sons to farmers Alexander and Elizabeth Ross. He has never been satisfied with his life and blamed his lack of satisfaction on his lifelong location working on the family farm just outside of Rock City. He went to the one room public school till he was 16 where he spent his time dreaming of all the places that weren’t his hometown. After he was done with school he spent his winters working at the local ice house, the rest of his monotonous years farming. One week ago Neil bundled a change of clothes and all the money he had stashed away into an old wool blanket and slipped away in the middle of the night, leaving behind the life he knew but hated in search of another.

Having taken in the entire station, Neil choses a seat two benches down from Mary. He sees her, but doesn’t take notice of her as he continues his observance of the station. Mary of course has noticed him and began her study; noting his clothes, his appearance, the portions of unstitched seam she has the urge to repair. He catches her staring eyes and she quickly looks away, only to peak back once she thinks he isn’t looking. The sit in the silence of each other’s distant presence while the diner singer belts out his post dinner song.

Neil continues to take in the station. The station was a long dark tiled rectangle with curved corners. The bulk of the station was outside under a large overhang that matched the deco curves of the building supported by concrete pillars The large ‘Bus Depot’ Neon sign across the top could be scene for blocks and the matching neon that lined the overhang bathed the perimeter of the entire station in a red glow. The station was a rare occasion in Rock City, the only new structure in years. Part of a plan to prop up the city to those coming in and through. For those leaving it was one last dig from a city that was more interested in a good final last impression than all the bad ones that preceded it.

“Final boarding for the #3 to San Francisco.” erupts from the porter.
A sour-faced man in a two sizes too small but well-pressed suit approaches the porter.

“How many stops does this route have?” he inquires of the porter.
“Quite a few if you are going all the way west.” is answered.
“Well I’m in a hurry and I need to know how many stops, is it going to take a long time, how long does it wait at each stop. I don’t want to stuck waiting on the bus if I could get off and stretch my legs–”

Both Mary and Neil are engrossed, watch the tight suited man intently.

“You’ll just have to pay attention to the driver. He’ll let you know about the stops.” are the porter’s instructions.
“But I need to plan. What kind of porter are you to not know the details of the routes. I can’t be the only passenger that needs to know these things. I need to know–”
“I’m sure the driver will take excellent care of you. Have a nice trip sir.” ensures the porter as he walks away, quickly.
“I swear I’ll never take this bus line again. The service is atrocious…” continues the annoying man as he gets on the bus. “…are you the driver. I need to know about the stops. I’ll want to get off occasionally, but I don’t want all the stops to take too long. I’m in a hurry…”

The man out of view, Mary looks away still aghast at the man’s insistences for a late night bus ride across the country. She wonders if this is how he is every moment of every day and is mortified for anyone that has to live or work with him. She suddenly realizes that she is staring at Neil, who is staring right back her. Neither knows it but they are making the same face and imagining the same nightmare of having to know the sour faced man outside the short bus station observance. Neil is the first to speak.

“Glad I’m not going where he’s going.”
“I’m sure someone is glad he’s going there though.” she tacks on.

Neil laughs in agreement, Mary joins him. Acting on her curiosity Mary inquires.

“Where are you going?”
“Don’t know just yet.” he replies. Finding this odd Mary continues her interrogation.
“Didn’t you buy a ticket?”
“Yep.”
“Which route?”
“One that leaves at 11:15.”
“So the–”
“You didn’t ask where the route was going. You asked where I was going.”
“Aren’t they the same thing? You can’t get on a bus going one way and expect to go another.”
“True, but where the bus ends up and where I do will be different places.”
“I stand corrected.” as Mary senses he may be being obtuse for a reason and breaks off.

They both watch the exhaust of the bus dance in the glow of the red neon as it pulls away.

“I just don’t know where I’m going to end up is all.” Neil eventually spits out, catching Mary off guard.
“What?”
“I don’t know where I’m going to end up. I’m know I’m going somewhere, just haven’t figured out where yet.”
“If you don’t know where you are going, how do you expect to know you’ve gotten there?”
“I figure I’ll just know. It’ll feel right.” Neil reassures her. “Where are you taking one of these buses?”
“No where.” responds Mary matter of factly, but Neil hears a hint of sorrow that Mary herself doesn’t even know is there.
“I guess I’d like to go somewhere, some day, when I’m not working at the laundry six days a week so my family can survive.” only this time Mary can feel her sorrow. “My answer will be ‘no where’ for a long time.”
“How big a family you got that you have to work so much to support them?” he asks.
“My parents, my little sister and brother. I have an older brother but he stayed in New York.”
Neil perks up. “New York?”
“Yeah, he stayed when we moved last year because he still had a job.”

Neil scoops up his pack and crosses over Mary. She is no longer a random person from Rock City, but someone who has been somewhere. He takes a seat next to her. She studies him as he sits; focuses on his pasty, dirty neck down below the unpressed collar of this shirt and his tanned, clumsily shaven chin.

“So what’s New York like?” the inquisitive child in Neil emerges.
“Big, dirty. I don’t know. It’s not much different than here really.” Mary manages to answer.
“It can’t be anything like here. They just built the biggest building in the world. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to stand there and just look up at it. Does it disappear into the clouds?”

Mary strains to hide her laughing due to his innocence. She remembers walking by the Empire State building every day that it was being built. She stopped and watched for a minute when they opened the doors. For her it was just something that made her walk a little longer, a little dirtier, a little noisier; for him it was like the tower of babel. She remembered the crowds on opening day, cheering en masse as the ribbon was ceremoniously cut. People just like her were as in awe of the sight as Neil was at the mere thought of that tower. Why wasn’t she?

“Only on some days. It is really tall.” she could feel herself getting excited about something for the first time in years. “Even though I watched it being built I don’t understand how it doesn’t fall over.”
“Why would you ever leave a place like that?” he asks, truly curious.
“My father hadn’t worked in months. He refused to take a lesser job than he had before the stock market crash. He refused to do manual labor. He decided to just sit at home a drink instead. Then he got this job offer to come here. He was so excited.”
“But why did you leave?” he quizzes.
“Because I knew it was too good to be true. I knew as soon as they got here it would fall apart and I needed to be here to take of my family.”
“There’s no way you could know that. I think they would have picked themselves back up.”
“You didn’t see my mom’s face when the letter came in the mail. She was so relieved, so excited, so blinded. She was so desperate for it to be true so pushed reality far out of her mind. She had already given up and had nothing else to lose, so she continued to numb herself to rational thoughts which would have meant continuing to spend her nights crying in my drunk father’s lap. I remember the first time I found her like that, she looked me square in the eye and cried that much harder. She was calling out for me to make it all go away the only way she could bring herself to.” Her voice and shoulders slump. “That was the night I realized she had lost all hope of my father being the man he was before.”
“If he got that job when you moved here, why you still taking care of them?”
“I knew it was too good to be true, and it was. Nothing but a scam. He didn’t know he was broken before. Now he knows.”
“I don’t understand how someone can just give up like that. Can’t they find any other work?” Neil quizzes further.
“You can’t find something if don’t ever look for it.” She answers.
“So what’s stopping you from looking for what you want?”
“No, it’s that–” Mary starts to respond, then stops. She doesn’t have an answer. “It doesn’t matter where I go, I’ll still be me. I’m still the same me here in Rock City as I was in New York.”
“How do you really know until you change your circumstances and go somewhere without your family weighing you down. How do you know you’d be the same person?” Neil aimed at both reinforcing the theory of his own he was testing and wondering if she herself had given up.
“I just don’t know of anything that I want to do. I can’t think of anything that makes me excited anymore. I don’t believe my life can be anything other than what is.” she states.
“Come on, there’s gotta be something. Everybody wants a thrill.”

Their eyes meet for a second; his encouraging, hers disappointed. She looks off and observes the station like she has done many times before trying to see something different in the usual sights. She spots a couple walking down the street, their oversized clothes in tatters, the man hasn’t shaved in months, the woman barefoot. The move slowly, deliberately, as they talk to each other. They smile at each other, hold hands as they walk. As they move under the streetlight they cast a long shadow that sweeps across the street like a searchlight.

“#12 to Hanford, now boarding.” the porter calls out.

Neil remains seated, looking at Mary. She turns, surprised to see him still seated.

“That’s your bus, the #12 is the 11:15. I guess you know where you are going now.” she alerts him.
“You could go there too, if you wanted.” he points out as he stands.
“No, I couldn’t just leave.” Mary answers, mostly to reassure herself. “You could stay, since your mystery has been spoiled.”
“I already paid for my ticket, wouldn’t want it to go to waste.” his blanket pouch being tossed over his shoulder. “Maybe I’ll see you again someday,…” he realizes they never exchanged names.
“Mary.” sensing his confusion.
“Neil.” he returns.
“Have a nice life Mary.” and with a tip of his newly acquired hat he turns away from her.

With each step Mary grows more tense. She is not ready for him to go, not ready for adventure to be over.

“Neil!” she shouts out. Everyone in the station stops and looks to her standing on her toes. He turns around, stares. Mary notices everyone staring and instantly blushes. She runs up to him.
“You can use the ticket for another bus.”
“But it’s stamped for the #12 today.” he retorts, showing her the proof.
“It’s only the date that matters. It’s a weird loophole. As long as you travel the same day it doesn’t really matter what bus. You just pay the difference when you get on.” she pleads. “Stay. You can take the midnight bus.”

Neil takes a second. He searches for way to convince himself to stay.

“I did just learn your name. I should probably know more about the last person I’ll ever meet in Rock City.”

Mary smiles as he puts his ticket in his pocket, trails him as he heads back to the bench.

“So what made you finally decide to leave?” she immediately asks after they sit down, not even giving him a chance to put down his bundle.
“It was time is all.” he responds, not wanting to reveal the truth to Mary.
“Why was it time?” she persists. Neil instantly regrets his decision to stay, looks toward the bus about to leave.
“I just decided it was time. I didn’t want to be stuck anymore than I already was. I didn’t want to end up like you.”
“Why do you think I’m stuck here?” she asks.
“You said so. Not just here, everywhere.” is his answer. “I’ve never felt like I belonged here. If I’d have stayed any longer than I would have been taking on other people, people that wanted me to stay, people that would have made me stay for a long time.”
“Your family?” she presses.
“No. Yeah, they wanted me to stay, but…it’s complicated.” attempting to deflect, but Mary is undeflectable.
“You believe you’ll never see me again right?”
“Yeah. Not that I’m trying to avoid it, but I’m never coming back here and you are never leaving.”
“So it doesn’t matter if you tell me does it?”
“I guess not then.” he reluctantly responds. “I just don’t want you thinking I’m running from something.”
“You are though aren’t you? Your running from who you are in the place.”

Her words land hard. She has figured him out, uncovered his true identity – a man running away from problems he himself created, problems he never intended to participate.

“Her name is Sue Ellen. She and her husband lived down the road from my family. He married her to take over her family’s farm. It was his one shot, his family left him nothing and her parents died and her sister was already married off. He grew up in the city, wasn’t raised a farmer like the rest of us. He struggled at the farm; everything took him twice as long as it should have. He never paid her no mind. She was stuck and was fine with it, but liked being with me because I didn’t plan on staying stuck. I was the one adventure she allowed herself to have. Then her husband died. Two weeks later she starts telling everyone she’s pregnant and that I’m the father.” Neil grows insistent. “No way it was me. I slept with her, a married woman, which I know ain’t right and I’ll have to answer to God for what I’ve done; but I can’t be a husband or a father here in Rock City for the rest of my life.”
“Didn’t you love her?”
“ I didn’t love her any less than she loved me. Her husband died and she wanted a replacement. She had a farm but no farmer. Ain’t no way she could take it on herself and raise a kid. I should have left this place a long time ago. It wasn’t till I realized I could get stuck her, unable to leave, that I ran. I put my best clothes and my earned money in this wool blanket and snuck out in the middle of the night. I tried some things here in the city but just kept looking over my shoulder. It wasn’t far enough away, it was all too familiar, so I came here. It’s like they built this new bus station just so I could use it once to leave.”
“What’ll happen to the girl? To her baby? How will they survive?” a concerned Mary asks.
“I got 5 brother’s that aren’t married yet, aren’t going to get my daddy’s farm. I bet my father already made one them go to her, marry her, take over that farm. To them it’s just one more field to sow and harvest. For me it was prison with a life sentence. I can run away because my family has got someone like you.”

Mary imagined him in a farmhouse surrounded by kids, sitting in her father’s chair, drunk just like him, his wife staring at her just like her mother did. As unfathomable she knew his actions were, she knew they were the best thing he could do for himself and for the family he didn’t want. She glances up at the clock above the ticket counter. 11:58. The porter’s voice breaks their silence.

“Now boarding–”
“Don’t say it!” Mary screams out, causing Neil to jump. “I know you don’t want to know. I don’t either.” she reassures him. She quickly stands, as does Neil. She holds out her hand.
“Goodbye Neil. I hope you find the place you are meant to be.”
“Goodbye Mary. I hope you realize there is a place you are meant to be. Don’t stop believing.”

They shake hands. He takes a step back, then turns and boards his bus to everywhere.

Mary stares at the bus, panics, smiles to herself, then nearly bursts into tears. She bolts for the ticket counter. Halfway there she remembers her laundry bag, sprints back for it, then continues her race to the ticket counter.

“Give me a ticket for that bus.” she demands, dumping some coins from her pocket on the counter.
“Don’t you want to know where it’s going?” the ticket agent inquires.
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll take it anywhere.”

She slides the ticket from the window, grabs her bag, and runs toward the bus. Mary boards and the doors close behind her. She nervously makes her way down the aisle until she comes to Neil gazing out the side of the bus opposite the ticket counter. She turns to him and freezes. He catches her reflection in the window, surprised he turns then stands blank faced. He backs her down the aisle toward the door a few steps, then stops. He takes her bag from her, stows it in the shelf above. Mary follows him back to his seat, takes the one next to his. She kicks her feet, bites her bottom lip as he returns to his gaze out the window. He looks to Mary to see why his seat is wiggling, smiles at her. She smiles back.

The ticket agent, elbows resting on the counter, drops her chin into her hands and sighs. The clock above her strikes midnight as the bus pulls away from the station, heading out of Rock City, carrying Mary Helen Bronowski and Neil Ross away from their old lives.

Inspired by “Don’t Stop Believin’”
Written by Steve Perry, Jonathan Cain, Neal Schon
Performed by Journey

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