Bearded Boy: Episode 1, The Vortex

We’re pretty sure the boy with the beard is not one of us. How could he be? His face is covered with bushy hair. We watch him intently, sure that his beard will get longer. He studies his math book, reading the same page over and over. It’s when we forget about him, when we return to picking at tears in the back of the vinyl seat or writing Jimmy hearts Jesse in marker on the half-closed window that his beard grows so long he wraps it around his head like a turban, grabs it by the knot at the top and pulls. That’s when he starts rising from his seat. When his head touches the top of the bus, he starts spinning. Slowly at first, then like an ice dancer tucking in his arms, he spins so fast he becomes a blur. He spins until the air about him swirls like a tornado. We feel its pull. Allison’s homework flies from her lap and is pulled into the whirling vortex. The rest of us grab hold of our papers, zip our packs up tight and tuck them beneath the seat. We hold onto each other for fear one of us will be next. Even Bob and Dwight, who would never be seen touching in public, wrap their arms about each other. But Adam doesn’t listen. He stands in his seat, raises his arms as if he were riding a rollercoaster. We turn our heads, bury them against seatbacks and windows. Then someone shouts out that he’s gone. It happens so fast we’re not sure what happened. Jimmy doesn’t believe it. He wants to turn around to be sure. We pin him to the floor. It’s better that he’s gone, we tell Jimmy. He didn’t listen anyway. If we turn, if we peer into that whirling blur, it could be worse, much worse than this story.