Harriet Beamer Takes the Bus Read Online Free Page A

taffy that brought the deepest reaction.
    “I bought these. We went to the shore every summer — the first week of August. For twenty-eight years, well except the year Henry was born. I was so pregnant that August I could hardly move.”
    Humphrey rolled onto his back. His tongue lolled out. “No belly rub now, boy. I have to get these packed.”
    Harriet held the saltwater-taffy shakers. A tear welled in her eye. “Now what’s going on here? I have no reason to cry.” She sniffed.
    “What is wrong with me, Humphrey?”
    She glanced around the small room. For a moment she felt abit … flustered. “Look at all these shakers. They’re from all over the world — most of them were given to me as gifts or I traded for them at conventions. But these taffy shakers are the only ones I actually got on a trip of my own.”
    Humphrey scrambled to his feet after a brief struggle to upright himself. He barked. Twice.
    “I just realized something. Max and I never went anywhere — except the Jersey Shore. Just about the whole world is represented in this room, and I’ve seen none of it — not really. Max never liked to travel. He was such a homebody.”
    And that was when a lightbulb bright enough to light up Tokyo came on in Harriet’s mind.
    She dropped the taffy shakers into the box and raced down the steps, nearly tripping over her own feet on the way. Humphrey followed quickly behind.
    Harriet grabbed the kitchen phone and tapped Martha’s speed-dial number. One.
    “Hey, Harriet, what’s up? How goes the packing? Need help?”
    “Martha. You need to come over here right this blessed minute.” Harriet was so excited that her heart pounded like a trip hammer.
    “Why? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
    “Just come over. Please.”
    “Okay. Hold on to your shakers. I’ll be over in a flash. Just have to slip my shoes on.”
    Harriet clicked the phone off. “Humphrey,” she said, “I have a scathingly brilliant idea.”

Chapter 3
    H ARRIET PULLED OPEN THE FRONT DOOR. M ARTHA STOOD there in bright pink crop pants, a blue denim jacket, a purple tie-dyed shirt, dangling earrings, and green hands. “What’s so important? I was in the middle of painting —”
    “Come in. Come in, I’ve got something to tell you.”
    “You changed your mind,” Martha said as she walked into the living room.
    “Nope. Not that. I’m going.”
    “Oh, yeah, I can tell by the boxes. I wish you’d let me help.”
    “Maybe later. But now hold on to your hat. I’ve made a decision. I’m going to take the bus.”
    Martha burst out laughing. “The bus? You mean like Greyhound?”
    Humphrey howled.
    Harriet sat in her wingback chair. “No, maybe, I don’t know. It’s possible. Any bus, maybe a lot of buses or trains.”
    “Okay, now you’re just being obtuse. Tell me what’s going on.”
    “I’ve decided to take the scenic route. Whatever that entails, local buses, trains, a hot-air balloon if I have too. Whatever. But I’m going to start on the local bus.”
    Harriet could see that Martha was having a difficult time containing her hilarity. “You’re not serious. Harriet, you’re seventy-twoyears old. You have a little arthritis, high blood pressure, and let’s face it — not the keenest sense of direction.”
    “Okay, so I get lost in the supermarket. This is different. Buses and such have schedules and —” Harriet leaned toward Martha — “I want to see the country before I die. I want to do something courageous and unexpected.”
    “You’re a nut. You know that? What brought this on? I figured you and Humphrey would fly.”
    “I was packing my collection, you know, to send on ahead to Henry, and that’s when it hit me. I have all these shakers from all over the world. Places I’ve never seen. Sent to me by friends and missionaries. It made me think that Max — God love him — never took me anywhere.”
    “Jersey shore.”
    “Doesn’t count. But if I take the slow way to Grass Valley I’m sure