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My brother went missing. Something found me.
Back in 1992 my brother Boone went missing. Our family had always lived in North Dakota, but Boone had always dreamed of leaving.
In 1990, Boone was accepted to the University of Miami in South Florida. His freshman year he met a couple good friends and they all moved into a little beach bungalow their first summer. He had been living there since.
In late August of 1992, Boone called home and I answered. It was around 1am and he sounded frantic. He said the hurricane that was about to hit was going to be bad, and that he was leaving to come home. He said something was wrong, that he could feel it building around him in the air. I told him the plan. I told him to meet me at the first Greyhound Bus station past the Florida-Georgia border and we could drive back home together. I wanted to make sure he was safe because he was really scaring me.
Boone said he would call home again as soon as he got to the bus station. I told him I would already be en-route, so just let Mom know he was safe and waiting for me.
I packed a small bag and cash, left my Mom a note, and biked to the bus station.
I was really freaked out. Though my brother was a dreamer and creative, he wasn’t one to panic or really to fright easily. I got on the bus and took note of the only people there immediately. Only four others, two pairs of male and female companions. The closer pair was to the right, in the first row behind the driver. The woman looked frightened. The man looked as if he was trying to keep his demeanor calm.
The other couple was even more strange. They sat towards the back on the left side. The man was sleeping against the window. But the woman had giant dark eyes, they were glassy and shiny, she looked as if I had just interrupted her crying over a funeral wake. Her mouth was open though, slack-jawed, and I could see too many teeth. She would not take her eyes off me. I could almost feel them poking the back of my head as I sat down two rows behind the first couple.
The bus took off and I tried to think of anything but my brother and the strange lady staring at me. I pulled out a book and started to read.
I didn’t hear the first plinking sounds until we were in South Dakota- a few hours later. It was faint over the background noise, but it was distinct on the plastic floor. Plink. Plink. Plink.
As day broke and we took our first stop, I decided to get off to buy a couple snacks and relieve myself in the bathroom. I didn’t turn around when I stood up, just exited. When I returned to the bus I took a deep breath and stepped on, hoping the woman had fallen asleep or better yet, gotten off.
No. Instead her companion seemed to have disappeared, as well as the other couple. It seemed as though the woman hadn’t even moved. But she just stared at me.
I took my spot where the other couple had been sitting before and tried to forget she was still on the bus. Plink. Plink. Plink. Plink. Plink. The noise seemed to go on for hours. Like an irregular, leaky faucet, dripping pebbles onto linoleum.
When we reached Tennessee, she got off the bus. But as she passed me, she touched my shoulder and said “Not yet.” I couldn’t bring myself to even glance at her, I was trying not to shake out of my skin. Her voice was so hollow and raspy like it belonged to a broken drive-thru speaker. She smiled and exited, I thought she might break her neck to continue staring at me as she left.
As soon as the bus lurched forward, I got up and went to where the woman had been sitting, staring. I looked down and saw a pile of human and animal teeth. The man who I had thought left the bus previously, was slumped in the seat, almost falling forward to the floor. When we got to the next station the bus driver called the police and I was transferred to a new bus. The whole situation was really unsettling to me.
When I got to the final Greyhound station in Georgia, I looked around for my brother. His car wasn’t there and I didn’t see him anywhere. I called home at the pay phone and Mom answered. I asked if Boone had called and she said he hadn’t. So I waited.
I waited a full day at the station. He never showed. I called home again and Mom still hadn’t gotten a phone call either. I called Boone’s house. The line just rang, and rang, and rang. I broke down crying on the bench.
I got back home and Mom told me some of the news she had seen. Hurricane Andrew had swept through South Florida and ravaged the state. There were deaths and many reported missing. My Mom called the school when it reopened for classes to see if Boone had shown up, to which they told us no. We called the police and filed a missing persons report.
My Mom and I went down to Florida together the next week to help in searching for Boone and the others including his roommates. We never found anyone, or Boone.
We still don’t know what happened to him to this day. His car was never seen. And because his roommates were missing too, we could never figure out where he last was. In fact most of their home had been destroyed, and most of Boone’s personal items were either swept away, or he had taken with him.
Since then I have suffered with debilitating nightmares that make sleep basically impossible. I have flashbacks to seeing the woman on the bus. The dead man. Boone. The destruction of the hurricane. It just comes back and hits me whenever I’m awake. I spent the first year after Boone went missing in bed. Hardly eating. Catatonic. But as time marched on, the images and nightmares slowly - and I mean slowly - started to fade and I could begin to recall the better times I had shared with Boone.
Today, I visited the headstone my Mom had made last year, in honor of Boone. It was early evening. I remember as I walked up to his headstone, I could see a stack of something on it that wasn’t there before. As I got near, I pushed aside the flowers and I noticed it was a pile of teeth. When I examined further I noticed animal teeth as well.
I stood up, and the woman from the bus, more than 30 years ago, was standing in front of me. She was exactly as I remembered from all my nightmares. All she said was, “Soon.”
#entertainment
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Back in 1992 my brother Boone went missing. Our family had always lived in North Dakota, but Boone had always dreamed of leaving.
In 1990, Boone was accepted to the University of Miami in South Florida. His freshman year he met a couple good friends and they all moved into a little beach bungalow their first summer. He had been living there since.
In late August of 1992, Boone called home and I answered. It was around 1am and he sounded frantic. He said the hurricane that was about to hit was going to be bad, and that he was leaving to come home. He said something was wrong, that he could feel it building around him in the air. I told him the plan. I told him to meet me at the first Greyhound Bus station past the Florida-Georgia border and we could drive back home together. I wanted to make sure he was safe because he was really scaring me.
Boone said he would call home again as soon as he got to the bus station. I told him I would already be en-route, so just let Mom know he was safe and waiting for me.
I packed a small bag and cash, left my Mom a note, and biked to the bus station.
I was really freaked out. Though my brother was a dreamer and creative, he wasn’t one to panic or really to fright easily. I got on the bus and took note of the only people there immediately. Only four others, two pairs of male and female companions. The closer pair was to the right, in the first row behind the driver. The woman looked frightened. The man looked as if he was trying to keep his demeanor calm.
The other couple was even more strange. They sat towards the back on the left side. The man was sleeping against the window. But the woman had giant dark eyes, they were glassy and shiny, she looked as if I had just interrupted her crying over a funeral wake. Her mouth was open though, slack-jawed, and I could see too many teeth. She would not take her eyes off me. I could almost feel them poking the back of my head as I sat down two rows behind the first couple.
The bus took off and I tried to think of anything but my brother and the strange lady staring at me. I pulled out a book and started to read.
I didn’t hear the first plinking sounds until we were in South Dakota- a few hours later. It was faint over the background noise, but it was distinct on the plastic floor. Plink. Plink. Plink.
As day broke and we took our first stop, I decided to get off to buy a couple snacks and relieve myself in the bathroom. I didn’t turn around when I stood up, just exited. When I returned to the bus I took a deep breath and stepped on, hoping the woman had fallen asleep or better yet, gotten off.
No. Instead her companion seemed to have disappeared, as well as the other couple. It seemed as though the woman hadn’t even moved. But she just stared at me.
I took my spot where the other couple had been sitting before and tried to forget she was still on the bus. Plink. Plink. Plink. Plink. Plink. The noise seemed to go on for hours. Like an irregular, leaky faucet, dripping pebbles onto linoleum.
When we reached Tennessee, she got off the bus. But as she passed me, she touched my shoulder and said “Not yet.” I couldn’t bring myself to even glance at her, I was trying not to shake out of my skin. Her voice was so hollow and raspy like it belonged to a broken drive-thru speaker. She smiled and exited, I thought she might break her neck to continue staring at me as she left.
As soon as the bus lurched forward, I got up and went to where the woman had been sitting, staring. I looked down and saw a pile of human and animal teeth. The man who I had thought left the bus previously, was slumped in the seat, almost falling forward to the floor. When we got to the next station the bus driver called the police and I was transferred to a new bus. The whole situation was really unsettling to me.
When I got to the final Greyhound station in Georgia, I looked around for my brother. His car wasn’t there and I didn’t see him anywhere. I called home at the pay phone and Mom answered. I asked if Boone had called and she said he hadn’t. So I waited.
I waited a full day at the station. He never showed. I called home again and Mom still hadn’t gotten a phone call either. I called Boone’s house. The line just rang, and rang, and rang. I broke down crying on the bench.
I got back home and Mom told me some of the news she had seen. Hurricane Andrew had swept through South Florida and ravaged the state. There were deaths and many reported missing. My Mom called the school when it reopened for classes to see if Boone had shown up, to which they told us no. We called the police and filed a missing persons report.
My Mom and I went down to Florida together the next week to help in searching for Boone and the others including his roommates. We never found anyone, or Boone.
We still don’t know what happened to him to this day. His car was never seen. And because his roommates were missing too, we could never figure out where he last was. In fact most of their home had been destroyed, and most of Boone’s personal items were either swept away, or he had taken with him.
Since then I have suffered with debilitating nightmares that make sleep basically impossible. I have flashbacks to seeing the woman on the bus. The dead man. Boone. The destruction of the hurricane. It just comes back and hits me whenever I’m awake. I spent the first year after Boone went missing in bed. Hardly eating. Catatonic. But as time marched on, the images and nightmares slowly - and I mean slowly - started to fade and I could begin to recall the better times I had shared with Boone.
Today, I visited the headstone my Mom had made last year, in honor of Boone. It was early evening. I remember as I walked up to his headstone, I could see a stack of something on it that wasn’t there before. As I got near, I pushed aside the flowers and I noticed it was a pile of teeth. When I examined further I noticed animal teeth as well.
I stood up, and the woman from the bus, more than 30 years ago, was standing in front of me. She was exactly as I remembered from all my nightmares. All she said was, “Soon.”
#entertainment
source
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