#31: The Lafayette Bus Terminal

Louisiana-Bound (2008) Part 31 of 40 - The Lafayette Bus Terminal No doubt we used up a lot of energy during the last few days. The rest on the bus home would be much welcomed. Our bags would be loaded and unloaded three times on the return trip, either by myself or one of the service attendants. The real world returned almost with a vengeance. Our bags were at the side of the building where we could see them. Melanie and I decided to walk around in the large open area. I wanted to keep our luggage in sight all the time. The office was not yet open. There was a phone attached to the side of the terminal. A man was on the phone. To say he was upset is putting it mildly. He was blaming the person he was talking to for interfering in his life by allowing his girlfriend to get involved with the wrong crowd. He was totally focused on the phone conversation. I could hear every word from maybe fifty feet away. No it wasn't super hearing, but there was a high volume. Melanie and I walked in a large rectangular parking lot behind the bus terminal and a couple other buildings. Violent words were spoken over the phone. "When I get there, I will hurt you bad!" He was talking to a woman. She was to explain to him how she couldn't control the situation. She was either afraid of him or as tough as they come. "You let it happen, I can't go there now but I will soon and I will hurt you bad. I know I will go to jail for what I do. I love that girl. And you will pay for what happened." And such a conversation continued all the time Melanie and I were outside. I was feeling very uncomfortable. Our safety could very easily be in jeopardy. Then the station opened up for business at around 7:30 a.m. The man on the phone must have hung up and left. Finally I could wheel our bags to a safe place inside. The ticket agent surprised me by taking my bags into his area for the loading when the bus came. What a break that was. We still had two small bags to drag around, but now, the large heavy bags were in a safe place. Still I would make sure when the bus came that I could watch the bags get loaded. And so it happened that way. One last washroom break for Melanie. Women take a little longer than men in those rooms. And while Melanie was in there the bus came. Now I had a problem. I needed the washroom also, but first I had to make sure Melanie was taken care of. The bus driver said he was leaving in five minutes. It was tight! I managed to half go to the washroom, half dry my hands and rush out to the bus. And we were off. Though I wanted to go to sleep, I knew Baton Rouge was not far away. There we could rest, once we secured our luggage. It was the first transfer of our heavy stuff. Remind me next time to travel lighter. I had enough clean clothes for another trip. Baton Rouge, what an interesting name. We passed through the area in 2005, on a trip from west to east along the bottom southern states. Baton Rouge is the second largest city in Louisiana. The present name of the city, however, dates back to 1699, when French explorers noted a red cypress tree stripped of its bark that marked the boundary between Houma and Bayou Goula tribal hunting grounds. They called the tree "le baton rouge," or red stick. The native name for the site had been Istrouma. It was there that we had a 70-minute wait. Our bags were loaded underneath the bus heading for Memphis. It would be early evening before we would need to worry about them again. Pressure was fast dissipating now. Going home should be easier. Even the violent phone conversation I heard was long past. That person was not on our bus. I could try and catch up on writing now. About thirty miles from Jackson, as I thought of Jackson, the song by Johnny Cash came to my mind, at least some words of it. "We got married in a fever, hotter than a pepper sprout. We been talkin' 'bout Jackson, ever since the fire went out. I'm goin' to Jackson." Well Melanie and I were going to Jackson too. I wonder if it is the same Jackson? The sign "Jackson State University" was whizzing past the bus window now. It was on Terry Road that we passed part of the university. Then on Pascagoula Street we turned left onto Gallatin Street and there was the Jackson, Mississippi Grand Station and we were getting off. Written by Harvey A. Bond

 

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