The night bus stood at the end of the street, as unassuming as an alley cat and just as scruffy. It wasn’t as sleek as the other buses waiting at the curb, but that suited Eglantine just fine. She was on a budget and if it got her from one place to another in one piece, then that was enough.
Eglantine clutched her bag closer to her body, as though it could provide warmth against the bitter cold of the New York City night. There were a few people in line ahead of her; most were waiting for the more modern buses.
Snow was beginning to fall, little white drops that looked like sugar and sparkled in the moonlight. Eglantine looked up at the sky, watching it come down, hoping it would cover the slate grey snow that crusted over the ground.
The red and green lights of the Empire State Building were a beacon in the night, drawing Eglantine’s eyes. She wasn’t as excited about the holidays anymore. Any excitement she had felt that morning had quickly dissipated as the day progressed.
She looked at the other passengers waiting ahead of her. Two beautiful women stood close, hands entwined, snowflakes scattered in their dark, curly hair. Their eyes glowed silver in the night and Eglantine wondered if they were wearing contacts. Exquisite green embroidery lined their grey wool coats. They caught her looking and Eglantine looked away quickly, breath blowing out into the cold night.
A man a few feet shorter than her was smoking a pipe, his white beard nearly reaching the ground. The tips of his boots curled up and Eglantine wanted to know where he had gotten them, but she didn’t feel comfortable asking. The night was so dark and cold, that all words were sucked into the sky like a vacuum.
She put her gloved hand into her coat pocket, making sure the thick candle stub was still there. The man in front of the pastry shop had been adamant that she take it. There she’d been, one hand on her rounded belly as she gazed into the patisserie window, craving a box of macarons more than anything else she’d ever wanted in her life, and a man with a cane and a long pea coat had looked up at her from a table in front of the shop. His eyes had widened and, mouth set in determination, motioned to her.
“Come here, before you buy those macarons. I have something you need.”
Eglantine had looked around, unsure if the older man was talking to her or someone else walking by. He had a slight accent that gave his words an extra flavor, like ginger or cinnamon.
“Yes, my dear, you. Please come. You’ll need this if you want to make it home safely tonight.”
That had scared Eglantine. She walked over to the man, smelling his hot chocolate in the frigid air, and peered down into his hand. He held out a white candle stub, the wick dark.
“Merry Christmas,” the man said, unsmiling but looking kindly upon her all the same. “Thank you,” she said, pocketing the candle. It smelled faintly of leftover grease.
“Take care of yourself and the little one. Now, go buy those macarons,” he added with a chuckle.
Eglantine had nodded, too stunned at the exchange to smile, and gone into the shop. When she’d come out a few moments later, he’d already left.
Now, as she waited for the bus to allow her on, she hoped the box of macarons in her bag wasn’t smashed. She had been planning to save them for the ride back to Philadelphia, saving the raspberry and rose one for her roommate.
Her lower back was starting to ache from all the standing, and she could feel the baby wiggle around, as though reassuring her that she wasn’t as alone as she felt. She was five months along and already the baby was big and full of energy.
She thought about all the changes in her body, remembering looking into the mirror that morning before her shower in the Airbnb she’d rented. Her body was already round and soft when she wasn’t pregnant, curvy like a cinnamon roll, and her pregnant belly made her feel like a bun ready to be dusted with powdered sugar. Not one to be ashamed of her body or size, she welcomed the changes, feeling flush with life and more confident than ever.
He hadn’t thought so. But, in the end, she hadn’t expected him too. She had made a promise to herself to try one more time, hoping the holiday season and her growing belly might have softened him up. However, he had remained as closed off as ever, even more so now. So, she left him with his books, his articles, his studies, his apartment overlooking the elegant grey stonework of the Natural History Museum.
He had promised to pay child support every month; that was his only Christmas present to her.
Yet, she had to admit that leaving the city with the realization that things really were over for them was bittersweet. The baby in her belly was the start of a new chapter in her life, but she hadn’t thought she’d have to close the old one so soon.
Glancing down at her phone, she saw that it was almost 11 pm; her bus should be allowing passengers on soon. The bigger, fancier buses were already taking off, heavy with holiday travelers. There was a message from Gloria, her roommate, asking if she was safe and warm. Eglantine was grateful for her gloves, which allowed her to use her phone while wearing them and responded in the affirmative.
She yawned and pulled her wool beret farther down her head. Thank God she had already used the bathroom in the diner she’d spent the evening in, the only place open late nearby that wasn’t a bar. She’d made sure to eat dinner earlier and enjoyed people-watching from the windows, watching people scurry around, taking care of last-minute Christmas shopping or on their way to holiday parties.
She heard a slushy sound behind her and turned around. A man in an oversized coat and long wooly scarf with pom-poms on the end was running towards her.
He stopped right behind her, huffing in the cold air.
“Is this the line for the 11 o’clock night bus?” he managed to breathe out.
“Yes,” Eglantine answered.
The man looked up. His eyes were electric blue, shining even in the dark night. His face was unlined, but he could have been anywhere from 25 to 55. Eglantine noticed that his fingers were very long and tapered, peppered with healed burns.
“Thank you. Looks like my journey hasn’t ended in vain.”
His smile was like a caricature of a grin, his teeth elongated like icicles, and Eglantine shivered involuntarily. The man noticed and his eyes narrowed.
“You carry precious cargo. Here, use my scarf while we wait. New York City is practically arctic tonight,” he said, wrapping his red scarf with the pom-poms around her neck. It smelled of candle smoke, singed wool, and berry jam.
“Oh, well, I appreciate it. I left my scarf back home.”
“In Philadelphia, I presume?”
She nodded, hands playing with the pom-poms.
“A city with the richest history in the US. You can almost taste it, like a rare steak.” That cartoonish grin again, predatory and glittering with withheld laughter.
“Um, sure,” Eglantine said, unsure of how to answer that.
The man laughed and it sounded like sleigh bells. “You can call me Kurt.”
She stuck out her gloved hand. “I’m Eglantine. Thanks for letting me use your scarf.” W hen he shook her hand, she was surprised at how cold it was. She could feel it through her gloves.
Before she could remark on it, the bus rumbled into life. Eglantine stepped back, gazing at it with apprehension. Sure, the ticket back to Philly had been a lot cheaper than the others, but would the bus even make it there?
The bus driver stuck her head out, two little horns on her forehead shining in the moonlight and her eyes were darker than the sky. Eglantine wondered if that was a new style of body piercing and decided that it wasn’t quite for her, but the bus driver was rocking it.
The people ahead of her shuffled forward and started boarding the bus. Eglantine put a hand to her lower back, really needing to sit down. When it was her turn, she hoisted herself up and was pleasantly surprised at how warm the bus was inside. It looked roomier and more comfortable than Eglantine had expected, and her shoulders relaxed in relief. Perhaps the ride back home wouldn’t be too bad.
She could hear Kurt behind her murmuring greetings to some of the people already sitting down.
She sat down in one of the last rows and saw Kurt settle in a seat across the aisle from her.
Outside her window, the lights of New York City blazed like nebulas, as awake as ever, even on Christmas Eve. She wondered when she would visit New York again. As she rested a hand on her belly, she recalled all the weekends she spent in the apartment overlooking the museum.
Exhaustion and the finality of it all hit her at once, as she tried to relax in her surprisingly plush seat, and her eyes started stinging with unshed tears. As much as she had accepted the situation, it was a lot to process. She’d found out that she was going to be a single mom on Christmas Eve, and she felt lonelier than she ever had before, even with a spirited baby growing inside her.
The bus driver finished checking everyone’s tickets and sat down again, revving the bus to life. It groaned like a recalcitrant cow but slid out into the street smoothly. Eglantine rested her head on the insulated window, refusing to stress about the rest of her life. She pulled her beret off her strawberry blond hair and snuggled deeper into the scarf. She should probably give it back to Kurt, but she was just so tired from traipsing around New York and standing around waiting for the bus. Her eyelids felt heavy, and she felt her breathing slow. A little nap wouldn’t hurt…
The bus stopped abruptly, and startled Eglantine awake. She rubbed her eyes and looked out the foggy window, wiping it down with a gloved hand. The sky was even darker than before and swirls of snow fell onto the highway, colored orange, red, and yellow by the lights from the cars driving by.
She looked up, wondering why the bus driver stopped so suddenly. They weren’t anywhere near Philadelphia yet.
Kurt was standing up in his seat and there was an eerie silence in the bus, as though everyone was waiting for something to happen.
The sky outside began to swirl, and bells rang loudly. They sounded like church bells on Christmas morning, but with more echoes.
The bus practically shook from the force of the bells. Eglantine didn’t see a church anywhere along the freeway and was starting to wonder if she was dreaming.
“The bells are a nice touch, I must say,” Kurt mused aloud.
“What’s going on?” Eglantine asked tremulously, gripping the seat in front of her.
Kurt turned towards her, blue eyes so light they looked almost white, despite the dim light of the bus. “My brothers are finally joining me for our Christmas celebration. The bells herald their coming at midnight.”
Eglantine glanced down at her phone; it was 12:00 am.
Kurt bared his long sharp teeth at her in a triumphant grin and took a deep breath. A thrumming bass sound came out of his mouth; Eglantine could feel it in her bones.
A crack outside shook the bus and buckets of snow began to swirl and fall. Lights flashed as the bass note became louder and louder, until Eglantine had to cover her ears.
Shadows approached the bus, vaguely human shapes that were obscured by the heavy snowfall. Most of the passengers were calm about the whole spectacle, but a few, like Eglantine, were terrified. The thrumming stopped suddenly, the world holding its breath as the specters prepared to enter the bus.
“So, Eglantine of the pretty eyes, do you have what it takes to stay on the bus?”
Gone was the quirky long-limbed man from earlier. Kurt was now taller, and his shadow crackled with energy, his blue eyes burning with an icy fire that was older than anything Eglantine had ever seen.
“I have my ticket, but…”
Kurt shook his head. “My brothers are hungry and have little patience for humans. You must pay for your protection now or sleep out in the snow.”
Instinct made Eglantine stick her hands in her pockets, and her heart leapt in cautious relief as she felt the waxy stub of the candle. It didn’t make sense, but then the whole day hadn’t made much sense anyway, so Eglantine went for it.
“I have this,” she responded, holding the candle out.
Kurt took one look and gasped. He leaned forward and took a sniff, as though he were tasting a fine liquor, and he shivered.
“Delicious, my dear.” His tongue poked out of his mouth, wet and silver. “This is more than enough payment.”
Reaching down, he picked up the candle stub with reverence and barely suppressed desire.
“You may call me Kurt still, but my true name is Kertasníkir, the candle-beggar. I am the youngest of my brothers.”
Eglantine looked over at the entrance of the bus and saw the male figures start to board. They didn’t look human; there was something off about how they walked or breathed. Eglantine couldn’t tell exactly what, but it was obvious that they were from another place, another time.
The bus began to feel icy cold, and Eglantine wished they would shut the doors and leave behind the odd snowstorm.
The specters that at first had seemed so hazy to Eglantine’s eyes began to blur and then straightened out into people that looked not so different from Kurt. They all had the same cutting blue eyes and long limbs. They greeted one another in a lilting language that sounded like snowflakes forming in the atmosphere, Kurt grinning like a wolf who had finally found his pack.
The doors slammed shut and all at once a sweet warmth filled the bus. The air smelled as comforting as a Christmas tree and a roaring fireplace, laced with spices. The tip of Eglantine’s tongue peeked out and tasted the air, which was like a warm syrup.
She felt herself becoming sleepy again. Looking over at Kurt, she realized he was nibbling on the candle stub. He caught her gaze and lifted the candle up in a salute.
“Sleep now, young one. Your fare is paid and your life spared.”
His brothers smiled and suddenly there were too many icicle-like teeth to count.
Eglantine closed her eyes to raucous laughter and the smell of mulled wine. Sleep pulled her in wantonly and she let it cover her like a blanket. She was almost home.
The bus sputtered to a stop, shaking like a cow trying to loosen flies from it’s hide, and Eglantine woke up. She felt strangely at peace, and when she looked out the window at the familiar buildings of downtown Philadelphia, relief spread throughout her whole body.
The murmurings of Kurt and his brothers were pleasant to her ears, like the bubbling of a brook, and she remembered to take off his scarf. She folded it and texted Gloria to let her know she was back in Philly and ready to be picked up.
The passengers began leaving the bus, the brothers bundled up and not a bit tired despite the late hour.
“Merry Christmas,” she said to the bus driver with the short horns as she walked past. She winked at Eglantine and nodded, a trilling sound coming through her nose.
As she turned to step off the bus, a cold hand reached out for hers. “Let me help you,” Kurt said, a spot of color visible in his snow-white cheeks.
“Thank you,” Eglantine said, a little flustered.
“Is someone coming to pick you up?” he asked her, letting go of her hand.
“Yes, my roommate is coming. She’ll be here soon.”
He looked around. The darkness clung to the tall buildings around them like ink stains. “I will wait with you,” he said after a moment.
“Okay,” she replied. She handed him his scarf, all neatly folded. “Here’s your scarf back.
Thanks again for letting me wear it.”
“It was my pleasure. It’s not every day an enchanting woman nestles herself into my scarf,” he chuckled.
Eglantine eyed him warily. He kept a respectful distance from her, and honestly, he seemed lonely and unused to social interaction. His use of words seemed archaic, like he was from a fairytale. The next few minutes passed quietly, the brothers consulting a map of Philadelphia behind them, not at all put out with Kurt for making them wait.
As soon as Eglantine noticed Gloria’s car nearing them, she waved. “Ah, I presume that is your roommate?”
“Looks like it.” She turned towards the tall man. “I hope you and your brothers enjoy Philadelphia. I appreciated your help tonight.”
She wanted to ask more about the strange snowstorm that started out of nowhere, the eerie church bells, the mass of brothers, but she refrained. She wondered if bringing all that up would shatter the otherworldly magic of the night.
Kurt looked down at her, something in his eyes softening and his mouth relaxing. The sharp planes of his face and ears were thrown into definition because of the shadows, and Eglantine knew then for sure that he wasn’t human, probably never had been.
“Take care of yourself in this world, Eglantine. I wish you and your little one much happiness. Perhaps…if you ever think of me on Christmas Eve, light a candle in your window. I’d like to leave you both gifts.”
Eglantine smiled, full of questions but refusing to ask them.
She nodded to Kurt and began walking towards Gloria’s car. As she walked, tiny intricate snowflakes landed on her jacket. They didn’t melt and she felt like she was coated in little diamonds twinkling in the night.
She opened the car door, and a flush of warmth and the familiar lavender scent of her roommate wafted over to her. She was home.
Ophelia Guerdad is a Bay Area writer who has been published under different last names (Turner, Leong) which reflect the unique phases of her life. Her story “Always Be Prepared” was one of the winners of the BART Short Story contest and her work has been published by The Arcanist, New Myths Magazine, the branches, lunae, and others. She loves Irish dancing and spending time with her kids and husband.