Denver Cereal Denver Cereal

Chapter Six Hundred and Twenty-Six: The picture of the pandemic (part four)


(part four)

Friday morning — 8:35 a.m.

Sitting on the RTD 20 bus, Tanesha noticed that there was a message on her cellphone. She couldn’t figure out who would call her. Now that she was working at the hospital, her mother sent her long, wordy texts with weird emojis. Jeraine sent texts. Her girlfriends sent texts. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d received anything other than a spam call.

“What is it?” Fin asked.

“Someone telephoned me,” Tanesha said. “But the phone didn’t ring.”

Fin made a disinterested noise. For a long moment, Tanesha wondered if she should bother to listen to it. Shrugging to herself, she dialed into her voicemail and put in the code.

She listened to an African American man introduce himself. She scowled and played the message again.

“What is it?” Fin asked.

“Some dude,” Tanesha said. “Talking about… something. I don’t know.”

She looked up and noticed that some of the passengers were giving her furtive looks. She noticed a woman holding up her cellphone with the camera toward Tanesha.

“Shit,” Tanesha said under her breath.

“What causes you distress?” Fin asked.

“People are looking at me,” Tanesha said. “That woman just took my photo.”

Fin stood up. Tanesha tried to pull him back to sitting down.

“Why are you looking at this woman?” Fin asked.

The magic bounced around the inside of the aluminum bus.

“Fin!” Tanesha whispered. “You’re making it worse!”

Fin lifted an eyebrow at Tanesha and spoke again.

“Speak one at a time,” Fin said. He pointed to the bus driver. “Driver. You start.”

“That’s Miss T. Tanesha,” the bus driver spoke first. “She’s on my bus every morning with you. She’s so sweet and nice. I don’t know how she puts up with that rascal Jeraine.”

“You,” Fin pointed to the person sitting behind the driver.

“Hay una nuevo foto de su hombre y alguna otra mujer,” the woman said that there was a photo of Jeraine and another woman.

Tanesha groaned and dug out her phone from her purse again.

“They’s a photo of her man and some chick,” said the woman next to the Spanish speaking woman. “He don’ have a lick of clothes on.”

Fin started to laugh.

“This is what we saw yesterday,” Fin said.

“It’s not funny,” Tanesha said looking at her phone.

“It’s very funny,” Fin said.

“You should dump that asshole,” the woman who’d taken Tanesha’s photo said. “I just said that on my Twitter and I got lots of ‘likes.’”

Three other women nodded. Fin laughed as if he’d never heard anything funnier.

“Hey, Miss T,” the bus driver said. “They’re saying over the radio that a lot of photographers and news people are waiting for you at the hospital.”

“Shit,” Tanesha said. She punched Fin. “Stop laughing!”

“It’s very funny,” Fin said.

Denver Cereal continues tomorrow…

Next: Chapter Six Hundred and Twenty-Six: The picture of the pandemic (part five)

Previous: Chapter Six Hundred and Twenty-Six: The picture of the pandemic (part three)

Main Archive Page

This work, unless otherwise expressly stated, is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.