The buses pulled into slots poking out into a long, gray street. Elsa hadn’t known it was possible for the sky to be overcast in California. Gordon was asleep on her shoulder, as he had been for the last several hours, and she slid him back onto his own seat. The bus stopped, and all around them passengers leaped up, grabbing their satchels and suitcases and heading for the door. Elsa waited, staring out the window. She could have woken Gordon, but she wasn’t ready. The buildings on the other side of the window weren’t tall, but they were endless; over the tops of the squat, white buildings across the street, there were rows and rows of roofs poking into the sky behind them, and behind them, ad infinitum. Elsa didn’t know which way was north. It was after dark, nine o’clock. If Gordon never woke up, then maybe she would never have to get off the bus, and it would slowly turn around and take her home. “Hey, we’re here!” Gordon’s mouth was next to Elsa’s ear, his breath warm and stale.
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