As Sweet as Honey

49




Oscar didn’t remember if the top half was white and the bottom painted green, or the other way around. Try as he might, the image wouldn’t come to him. He really wanted to make a picture of the ferry for Great-Grandmother. He wanted it to be a surprise, and frankly, he wasn’t confident if any of his cousins could keep a secret. They seemed to like talking a lot. His father had given him some coins for ice cream the other day, but they hadn’t gone because of the rain. The change was still in his pocket, so he wondered if he could just get to the dock and look at the ferry. He could even make a quick sketch.

Quietly, he slipped out the gate and headed for the bus stand down the road. He had to remember the name of the street, so he wouldn’t get lost on the way back. He hoped he had enough change. He was the only one waiting as it creaked to a stop. The sign said 50p, so he took out the coins and put them in a small iron box. The bus driver didn’t even look at him. He took a seat behind him, but an old man yelled at him. He didn’t understand, but then he noticed a cartoon demonstrating that the first seats were for the elderly, so with face red, he took another seat farther back, beside a woman holding a baby. The bus lumbered toward the stop they took to the art store, but the dock was nowhere in sight. He tried to ask the woman next to him.

“Boat? Ferry? Water?”

She stared at him, but a man turned around and told him the dock was only a few more stops away. The man kept looking at him, and was about to ask him something, but Oscar hunkered down and studied the No Smoking or Spitting sign imprinted on the back of the seat, looking up every time the bus groaned to a stop. Many stops later, he arrived at the ferry terminal. He exited the bus, and headed determinedly for the water, ignoring the Kampa Kola sellers and peanut vendors. Finding an empty bench, he opened his notebook. The quay was busy, with sellers shouting out their wares, or arguing over traffic maneuvers. Passengers waited for the ferry to arrive in the terminal. Children ran about, some glancing at him curiously. He waited for a ferry, and when it finally did arrive, he took notes. The bottom was green. There were flags and decks and stairs. For two hours, Oscar was occupied. Finally, getting up and stretching, he realized he needed to use the bathroom. He looked around uneasily. He wondered if he could use the terminal’s bathrooms even though he wasn’t a passenger or waiting for one. His need proved greater than fairness, and he walked slowly into the building. He remembered where one was from last time, and entered. When he was washing up, a funny man with a mustache sidled up to him, making his hair prickle. Asha had told him that people sometimes stole children just like that. His father always told him, look for a policeman if you feel scared or get lost, but there wasn’t any he could see. Clutching his sketch pad, Oscar ran out, hoping he wasn’t being followed. The late-afternoon sun was comforting as he made his way to the stand and got on a bus.

The problem was that he forgot where to get off.