He instructed Margarita, speaking into the mic, watching her while occasionally glancing at me. I suddenly felt very drowsy, and the hint of a chemica... odor convinced me of a reason. I pretended sleep holding my breath as long as possible. A couple minutes later I could hold out no longer. My last memory before passing out came through careful slits of my eyes. Jason donned headphones. He whispered something into the mic, some question about Rhonda.When we emerged from the room, we noticed a. Maybe.” I didn’t know what I was going to do.“Well, it’s a nice city. Lotsa good music.”The conversation lapsed. A few more people entered the bus and took their seats, none of them near us. The driver closed the folding front doors, started up with a wheeze of diesel, and shifted into gear. The bus lurched out of its bay in the Greyhound terminal and onto the slushy surface streets of Des Moines, Iowa. Within five minutes we’d merged onto Interstate 35, headed north.Minneapolis was six hours. More

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