Cornfields, browning at the edges, ready for the harvest, spread in each direction, north and south, and only the road and thin trickle of traffic stretched east and west. The sun was high, and the crispness of the day gave the brightness an edge, like a cold morning razor. Flocks of geese clustered near ponds by the roadside, and blackbirds hopped incautiously about the shoulder of the highway, inspecting roadkill. Outside, breath condensed in the air, but here on the bus, few spoke, and the slight heat kept the vapor invisible.

Buck sat up very straight, looking forward, nearly unmoving. The morning sun was behind the bus, and Buck’s eyes were fixed on a gooey, rubbery piece of upholstery patching glued to the seatback in front of him. He ignored the frizzy, strawberry blond hair of the woman in front of him, even when it spilled over his patch. He did nothing but stare at the seatback.

A long, thin, tall girl with dark hair and porcelain-pale skin slid to the edge of her seat. She was just across the aisle from Buck. She wore a long flowy skirt, in forest green, and her hair splashed straight down over her shoulders. A black pea-coat sheltered her shape, and a wooly warm hat covered her head and ears. She had a backpack. She shoved a notebook in it as she leaned toward Buck.

“It’s a brilliant day.”

Buck’s open mouth closed, slowly. He did not respond, or even turn to acknowledge her.

“I love autumn. But only because it’s the last loop of the cycle, before everything goes dormant and can learn to live again. Y’know?”

Buck turned slowly, and looked at the girl. She smiled at him, and tilted her head, examing him. Buck looked at her blankly. She shifted across the aisle, to sit next to him.

“I’m Ciara. With a C, not a K. Some people have trouble with it. Where are you headed?”

Buck turned his head and again looked straight ahead. A green sign passed the window: LINCOLN 67. Buck blinked, slowly, lazily.

“Getting off in Nebraska? Cool. I’m on my way to see a friend in Flagstaff. I’ll head south in Colorado. I want to see the mountains. I love mountains. You visiting friends in Nebraska?” She looked around as she spoke, admiring the countryside and looking at the passing road signs.

Buck’s head lolled forward, and then lifted again, as if nodding. Ciara took this as an affirmative.

“Yeah, me too. A friend in Arizona. I have friends all over the place. I don’t get to see many of them very often, though. I don’t have a car, and I’m not much for flying.” She reached into her pocked and pulled out a pack of gum. “Well, to be honest, I’ve never been on a plane, but I figure that I don’t have to cross an ocean, so I might as well not leave the ground.” She offered the pack to Buck. “Want some?”

Buck turned to look at her, briefly, and then turned back, staring straight ahead.

“OK. Let me know if you change your mind. So, did I tell you that I love the mountains? It’s really true. I think all this midwest stuff is ok, I guess, but it’s not really for me. I like mountains a lot, and forests. Mostly forests… they’re the best. Back home in Portland… not Oregon, though… That’s always what people say… and if you say ‘Augusta,’they think you’re from Georgia. Sometimes I lie and just say ‘Bangor’ to get it over with. There’s no question when you say ‘Bangor’… like, what, it’s going to be Bangor, Delaware? But back home, there are some great forests really close by. It’s good, really good, to be able to get out of the house and see things that are alive.”

She chewed her gum awhile, and cracked a few small bubbles with her cheek and tongue. Her long, slender legs were pressed together, and her hands were resting, though in quiet fists, on her knees. The sun caught the bus at a convenient angle, and, through the windows on the opposite side, caught Ciara’s silhouette and traced her sharp features with light. Buck, though, did not notice, though the effect was striking.

“That’s why I was drawn to you, I think. See, I’m a practicing druid… well, neo-druid, I suppose, though ‘neo’ makes it sound more technological than it really is. Just means ‘new,’ really, anyway. I plan to spend some time in the Grand Canyon while I’m in Arizona, and maybe try to attune myself to the energies of all the living things in that ecosphere. But, anyway, I saw you over here, and I knew that there was something about you, something to do with life, and its flow.”

Buck turned to face her again. For the first time, their eyes met, and Ciara tilted her head again, assessing him.

“But… no. That’s not it, is it? It’s not life that drew me to you at all. No.” She peered at him carefully, narrowing her eyes, but never losing a look of hopefulness, of positivity. “No, that can’t be it. Because you’re not, are you?”

Buck turned back to stare straight ahead at the seat in front of him. Outside, a wild turkey burst out of a copse of trees and flapped and gangled across a field.

“You’re not really alive right now.”