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Gina and I plopped into one together, and Dallas tookthe one in front of us. There were a few other students making noiseuntil the bus driver told everyone to pipe down.She was this broad-shouldered woman with a wide, thin mouth like a gashand this thick linebacker's neck. Her arms were huge, but not nearlyso big as her boobs, which dwarfed her head. We'd ridden her bus a fewtimes before, and usually she was pretty nice. Sometimes she'd talk tous nonstop about her daughter who was taking nursing classes. Onlywhen she talked she talked at you, rather than with you. So wheneverwe were forced to bus it home, we tended to sit near the back away fromher conversational range. Like today. She gave everyone a once overwith her eyes, then settled into the driver's seat and stepped on thegas."We're off," Gina said, and started giggling. It was infectious, or soI thought. I laughed along with her to the conspicuous silence ofDallas, her eyes peering back at us from just over the seat. Aunts and Uncles were out there, watching, keeping her safe and keeping her gift from being used and abused by those who knew of her and wanted not to help, but to harm. It was the letter that helped her understand that her gift was to help, and only she would know who or how. She reached into the box to pick up the charm, the very charm that once lay between her mother’s breasts. Cradling the charm between her own breasts, mirroring the memory of her mother the love she had felt from her mother surrounded her, and she began to hum. It was a tune that was familiar to her, but she couldn’t remember where she’d heard it. She sat on the floor of her studio apartment off campus and hummed for hours. She was not aware of the passage of time while she hummed, but when it was time to stop, she did. She wiped her eyes and felt for the first time in her life that all was as it should be, and all was well. Lying in her tub, she reached over to the accoutrement shelf and grabbed the jasmine.
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