Rapid Transit (Dream)

Visited my (alternate) Winnipeg in my dreams again last night, as always, with somewhere to go. I wheel down to the end of Westminster, and turn right because the rapid transit bus embarkation station is adjacent to the Granite Curling Club.

The City of Winnipeg is poised to approve a controversial new rapid transit corridor after the executive policy committee approved the route on Wednesday.

With just  enough money to board, I leave my clothes and my wheelchair behind. Realizing I’m naked after passing through Confusion Corner, I think to myself, I better figure out where I left my clothes, and go back to the station I started from. This is somewhat difficult, naked and without wheelchair, without a transfer.

I’m helped, reluctantly, by one of the other passengers, to a seat in another sheltered bus stop on Pembina. After the good Samaritan scuttles away I look around and notice there is a lost and found, and a transit employee. I motion him forward and ask if there might be some clothes in his lost and found and collection. He puts a box on an old heavy clunky wheelchair and brings it next to the bench I’m sitting on and turns back to his wicket.

Relieved, I do find some very ill-fitting clothes, to cover my private parts, and grateful for the wheelchair. There are a few other items I consider taking, especially a very expensive looking cane with a carved lion head, and a good fit with my right palm. I decide, since it’s not mine, to leave it because I’m hoping to find all my stuff when I get back to where I left it.

I’m in a shelter that allows me to board the bus again without a transfer because I haven’t left the route. The bus is a major level lower than I am but each bus is raised on a hoist to boarding level. The apparatus malfunctions and the bus is thrown across the terminal and slammed down so hard the wheels fall off.  Fortunately I am well clear, and another bus is along shortly, and I roll in without incident.

I exit the bus at the terminal where I started this bus trip, struggling a bit with a heavier chair, and return where I started, but unlike T.S. Elliot, recognize it for the second time.  Fortunately everything I’ve left behind is there on a bench, though I have no memory of having undressed. The only thing missing is my wheelchair. Damn, should have taken the cane!

I change and discard my found pants and shirt, happy in my old clothes, even if they’re a little dirty and dusty. Big sigh in the utilitarian steel elevator taking me to street level, having to make do with a clunker. It’s a long way home.

This entry was posted in Dreams, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Trackbacks are closed, but you can post a comment.

One Comment

  1. Lindsay Butt
    Posted March 12, 2013 at 10:16 pm | Permalink

    Terrific story Victor! I am so glad to be reading your tales. Hope your recovery is going well. See you in the spring.

Post a Comment

Your email is never published nor shared. Required fields are marked *


You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>



Blog Subscription

To receive notification of new articles.