The Greyhound bus stopped in front of a building with an information sign saying the building was the Newton Valley Post Office. Cars were parked in front of another building with a sign saying Greyhound. The bus door opened and two women and a man exited the bus and then waited for the driver. He stepped down to the concrete walk and then opened a side of the bus. He reached into the opening, removed three pieces of luggage, and then placed them in a row upon the walk. He glanced into the dark opening, hesitated and then turned to speak to another passenger who had just stepped down to the walk. The fourth passenger wore an Army uniform. He carried a small hand bag.
“Philip. Why don’t you stay on,” the driver suggested. “Your house is only a few yards off the main road. Your uniform gives me permission to drop you off in front of the house.”
Philip stopped a moment and glanced at the driver.
“Thanks Pete. Appreciate the offer.” He turned and entered the bus.
Pete dropped the luggage cover, fastened it, and then entered the bus, too. The engine started and the bus pulled away from the curb to continue driving on Main Street until it disappeared when it turned a corner.
However two sight seers sitting upon a bench in front of the Greyhound building had something to say regarding the passenger who remained on the bus.
“Hank,” One said who wore a brown cap. “I’m not sure but I believe that Army fellow who’s wearing two bars on his shirt collar is Philip Hayes. It’s been over five years since I’ve seen him; sure has changed and from his looks much to the better. Was a thin cuss when he left here for the Germany assignment as some kind of instructor in Frankfurt. He’s a well-built fellow now. Probably did a lot of physical training while there.”
“Yah Tom,” Hank agreed. “I wasn’t sure if it was Hayes. I only met him once after I met him and then he left. Wonder if he knows his mother’s in the hospital because of an appendix op. She should be home soon as operation was done four days ago. My wife went to see Amy last week. Operation was a success. Maybe she’s even home now. He's getting here just in time to take to care of her. Didn’t he work part-time as a cook in the Golden Glow restaurant before he left for Germany?”
Tom nodded. “He made quite a splash in Frankfurt papers, I guess. Won quite a few baseball games for the U.S. team when they played against other national teams. Was a pitcher. Wonder if he still pitches? If he does maybe he could play on the Newton Valley team. It’s been winning a lot and is only two games out of first place in the State Baseball League of Florida.”.
Hank looked at Tom. “Maybe Phil’s home on leave,” he mentioned. “Might have to go back to Germany. “
Meanwhile the Greyhound bus had entered a County asphalt road. Drove a half mile and then stopped near a mail box. A sign on top of box said it belonged to an A Hayes.
The door of the bus opened and the driver and Philip stepped down to the ground. Pete, the driver opened the luggage opening cover, and removed a large Army duffle bag, and leaned it against the mail box pole. He shook hands with Phil.
“Glad to see you back home, Phil. Nice talking with you. When do you have to return to Frankfurt?” He asked.
“They don’t need me for other instructions,” Phil replied. “So I’m free for a while. Might have to go to some other country or even in U. S. But they tell me maybe not. Have to wait and see. Thanks for the lift. Saves me from getting a cab.”
Pete shrugged. “Glad to help an Army Captain. Again. Good luck. Might see you sometime when you’re in town when I stop in the future.”
Phil watched the bus leave for the highway; he then picked up the heavy bag and walked to the front porch of the white house with green trim. It was good to be home again. He wondered how his mother was. He’d been writing to her a lot but had not mentioned he would see her soon.
He walked up the three steps to the front porch and leaned the bag against the wall. He then tried to open the door after pulling on the screen door to open first. The door was evidently locked. Phil then pressed the doorbell button and heard the ring sound-off inside. He waited for his mother to come to the door.
Phil waited a few minutes, then turned and looked toward the garage. He noticed the door was closed so he didn’t know whether she was using the car. He walked to the garage and glanced through a window.
A blue sedan car was inside.
Where was his mother?
Was she ill and maybe in the hospital? After all he hadn’t seen her for over five years.
He returned to the porch and wondered what to do. Knowing what his mother would do if she left, every door would be locked. Even the first floor windows.
He glanced at his wrist watch. It was close to three in the afternoon.
“Gosh!” Phil muttered. “Suppose I could walk to Smiths a half mile from here and see if they know anything about Mom. Wonder where she is? Hope she isn’t sick.”
He heard the sound of a car and glanced in the direction of the sound. It was some car which was slowing down and started to enter the driveway.
“Somebody’s bringing her home,” he mentioned. “Maybe they went shopping some place.”
He left the duffle bag on the porch as well his carry-on bag with personal items, and walked to the side door of the house.
A girl in white uniform was opening the passenger door and helping his mother get out of the car. They were too busy to glance in his direction as they headed for the side door. They were about to open it when his mother saw him approaching the door.
She leaned against the wooden wall and stared at Phil
“Good Lord, Jean” she exclaimed. “It’s Phil, my son. And he’s home,” she added.