“Okay, you boys, I’ll get you there in good time.” The driver waits while Ittura points me to a seat. I sit next to the window. Ittura sits next to a dark-haired woman in the seat in front of mine.

What does he think he’s doing? I ask myself. I look out the window and watch all the normal people. The normal people who are walking down sidewalks with grocery bags, pushing babies in strollers. The normal people who are only concerned about making their dinner tonight. If I told them what was happening right now, not one person would believe me. Not one.

The woman sitting next to Ittura raises her hand and covers her nose and mouth. I watch her trying to be discreet about it. Not only do we look homeless, we smell homeless. People from the North will always smell different than city people. It’s just the way it is. It’s the food we eat. We smell like land food, no matter how many Filet-O-Fish we eat.

Ittura glances over at the dark-haired woman and says, “Problem, miss?”

“No, oh no. I thought I was going to sneeze so I’m trying to not spread it around.”

“Ah, don’t worry about that with me,” Ittura says and straightens his back against the seat. “We worry too much about that kind of stuff, don’t you think?” he asks the young lady. She smiles at him. What is it with this guy? How can a dead guy publicly schmooze women? No wonder he had a billion wives. I let out a loud cough. Ittura looks over to me and makes a sour face. The youth-filled lady bursts out laughing.

“What’s your name?” Ittura asks her.

“Amanda. What’s yours?”

“Ittura, but most people just call me Bill.” Ittura grins and she grins back at him. I feel like I’m going to vomit. What a display. What an unholy display. A ghost and a girl on a city bus and no one else seems to care. Has God completely deserted me? Abandoned me to a ghost?

“Well, Bill, my stop is coming up.” Amanda reaches up and pulls the city bus string. A low bong sounds its way through the bus. I look back out the window and turn my head in time to see Ittura make sure that Amanda must press her body against his as she moves out to the aisle. I shake my head. Ittura gives me a thumbs-up sign. Amanda stops in the aisle and leans over to Ittura. She moves her lips close to his cheek and places a soft kiss on it.

“I feel like I know you, Bill. I hope we meet again,” she says as she turns. Her short skirt rustles her off the bus.

Ittura motions for me to sit next to him. I move up one seat, sit down and look straight into his empty eyes. “What was all that about?” I ask him.