Thread: The mission
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Old 19-07-2018, 01:48 PM
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Re: The mission

I was again perspiring from the short run. Steph momentarily disappeared from my view as the bus pulled alongside the curb. I quickly rounded the back of the bus and saw Steph.

The bus had stopped and she was already in the queue, if it is what is called a queue; a bunch of people crowded around the front door of the bus, trying to push their way up the bus.

Steph was already in the middle of this crowd. I could see that she was now only in her white button shirt and had removed her jacket, holding it in her hand in such a short space of time. I removed mine as well as she turned her head around and shouted back to me.

Steph: Hurry. We must get up the bus!

I nodded and pushed myself into the crowd.

I could smell sweat as bodies plastered against mine. Arms rubbed against mine and chests pushed me from behind, causing my body to push against the person in front of me. Everyone was trying to get up the bus. For a split second in the brief madness, I thought about Steph and knew she was experiencing the same as me. However, I did not have time to further contemplate about the issue as I was ushered forward from the mass of bodies behind me. Those at the back were pushing to try to get onto the bus.

I looked up and noticed that she had already gotten on and it was getting full very quickly. I fought my way through the crowd and managed to squeeze myself onto the steps as the bus pulled away from the curb slowly, without even closing its doors. In fact, there were no doors. 2 other person behind me held onto the frame of the door dangerously.

I managed to stabilize myself and looked into the bus. Almost everyone inside were men. I could only see 2 other woman seated from my side of the bus. The bus was really packed. Everyone was like sardines in a can.

Steph was in the middle of the bus and she was standing by the side of a seat. Her body was pushed forward from the mass of bodies behind her and with one hand, she held tightly onto the metal railing at the shoulder of the seat in front of her, supporting herself and preventing her from falling onto the seated man. The way her body was leaned forward had caused her breasts to be near the head of the seated man but not touching him. Her other hand was holding to her jacket, bag and the gift. With just one hand, there was no way she could push backwards and straightened up against the ongoing pressure applied to her back by the crowd. I should really have carried the gift instead of letting her do it.

I tried to inch forward to her but it would be trying to walk into a wall. The bodies in front of me form a large mass of immovable objects. All I got were nasty stares from the nearest commuters in front of me and I stopped trying.

I looked at her again and she caught my eyes. Using her eyes she gestured at the bodies behind her before rolling her eyes and finally gave me a weak smile.

I mouthed a silent sorry to her but she shook her head and smiled again.

The bus stopped at the next stop but only 1 or 2 disembarked. More people squeezed into the bus again. I was literally plastered to the guy in front of me and someone else was plastered to my back. It was hot and stuffy and I was perspiring heavily. We were told by the driver that we had to endure this for another 10 stops or about 50mins. I just hoped that at least more will alight than board at the next stop.

The bus was not silent. There were people talking all around and there was the sound of the engine amongst the noises. Furthermore it was not air conditioned and the noise from the traffic made the interior a rather noisy place. Suddenly the chatters were silenced when Steph's voice drowned everything. Normally, she was a soft spoken woman and in the time we were together, never once had I heard her raised her voice.

Steph: Stop touching me!

Immediately I craned my neck to look at her. Initially, I thought it was the man in front of her on the seat but when I saw her, she was trying to strain her head backwards to see who was touching her. However, with the awkward position she was in, together with the condition of the crowd, there was no telling who the culprit was.

Me: Hey! Hey! stop touching her!

I did not know who was the person but I could not move from where I was and rushed over to her, I could only use my voice. I knew it was in vain but it was better than doing nothing.

Me: Baby! what happened?!

Steph: someone stroked my behind!

She was too demure to even say "butt". Her eyes found mine and I could see that she was angry. Unable to do anything more, I shouted again.

Me: Hey! One more time you touch her, I'll call the police!

I was starting to be frustrated. The stuffiness in the bus was not helping.

Me: So, you better don't do it again!

At this moment, the bus driver spoke. I thought he would stop the bus and help to catch the culprit instead he did the opposite.

Bus Driver: Hey..... you.... no shout. Or you go down bus.....

I was shocked and stunned by what he had just said. Instead of helping us, he had threatened to throw me down the bus.

Me: HEY! MY WIFE IS BEING MOLESTED! YOU SHOULD BE HELPING US! WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT I GO DOWN THE BUS!

I was normally a calm person but the feeling of unjust made me boiled and I just vented my frustration at him.

Bus Driver: You, your wife, both quiet..... i cannut drive and you disturb others. Quiet or you go 2 down.

I was about to shout at him again but I heard Steph calling me.

Steph: Keith.... Keith....

I turned and looked at her, who was still about 5 seats away from me. The anger was gone from her eyes. I could only see concerned in them now. Obviously she was worried that we would be chased down the bus and missed our meeting.

Steph: cool it.....

Me: but......

Steph: Do you remember why are we here?

I looked silently.

Steph: ok.... we cannot get thrown off..... ssshhh....

She winked and managed a weak smile for me.

Me: Are you ok?

She rolled her eyes and sighed.

Steph: Yes but I have 2 hands there now.....

After the commotion, they still have the cheek to continue to molest my wife. Just thinking about their hands on my demure wife made angry again. I was about to shout again when she stopped me. I took a deep breath and spoke.

Me: you being molested is not ok....

Steph: Keith, listen to me.... don't.... please....

For the first time since we were together, I could feel the exasperation in her voice with me.

I could understand how she was feeling. She was being molested but because of the need to be in time for the meeting so that we could go have the opportunity to get the job, she was already sacrificing herself even though I could see that she had the disgusted feeling of being violated. If I continued to kick up a big hoo-hah, we would be thrown off the bus and miss the meeting, her sacrifice would be in vain.

I sighed and took a deep breath.

Me: ok..... I'll keep quiet and if anything, just shout. ok? We can always alight.

Steph just nodded quietly.

At the next stop, some people alighted from the bus but as many came up. With the movement within the bus, I managed to get myself up to the top of the steps but I was no closer to her, still about 5 seats away from her. As the front door was already packed to the brim, some of the passengers took opportunity of the opened back door and entered through there as well. This had caused the middle and back of the bus to be even more packed than ever.

I took a glance at Steph and with my view unobstructed; I had a pretty good view of her. She was pushed against the seated man in front of her. One of her thighs was now plastered against his upper arm and her groin was pushed deep against the right angle of his shoulder. I could see the frown on her forehead but she remained silent.

There was a hand on her butt and another on her outer thigh but the owner of the hands disappeared into the mass of bodies behind her and I could not see who it belonged to. I wanted to ask her if she was fine but I remembered the earlier look on her face and I maintained my silence.

The bus continued to rumble on slowly in the heavy traffic, stopping frequently in the jam. Progress was slow and I could not move my hands to check the time. It was getting stuffy and uncomfortable in the interior but no one was complaining as it was their daily lifestyle.
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