Forty-Five

FORTY-FIVE

As Michael neared the deformed bus door, he thanked a God he wasn’t sure he believed in for air that didn’t reek of septic tanks and abattoirs. He sucked in a hot breath and thought, Man, that feels better.

He had an issue, and it was a big one considering their circumstances. Michael needed to pee. He’d contemplated using the corner next to the driver’s upturned chair. Only no, that wasn’t an option. The bus was on a slant and the stream would run across the floor and down the steps. It seemed undignified, like a dog. He almost laughed. This isn’t the time to be coy, he said to himself. You’re not a prisoner by choice, you know? A shake of the head, decided. The corner just wasn’t going to cut it; he would piss out the door instead.

Before going to the front of the bus, he told the others what he was going to do. They tried to talk him out of it, explaining the risks of being seen. He convinced them that he could manage to do it without drawing any attention.

“Can’t you