The bus teeters at the edge of a cliff.
Its womb is filled with Japanese school children.
I've seen this movie before.
But I can't remember the ending.
Tigue was jumping through time at ten-minute intervals. He had that long to catch the outlaw. Or else the chase would continue.
This jump led him to a rest area off of the interstate. A way station for travelers. A carnival of complaints.
Maggie the waitress spotted Tigue right away. The guy practically had a shimmering aura around him, he was so alive compared to everybody else. She almost tripped herself getting to his table.
Tigue ordered a lot of food, messy. "The same way I like my women," he said.
Maggie blew a curl up off of her forehead. Her knees twitched involuntarily.
"I'm chasing an outlaw," Tigue said. "Been at it for awhile."
"Are you a cop?" Maggie said, handing over a salad with fries that Tigue hadn't ordered.
"Sure," Tigue said. "I'm all cop."
More flirty stuff followed.
Later, Maggie the waitress chased Tigue out into the rain, halfway across the parking lot. Tigue had used seven of his ten minutes. Soon he would jump again.
"I get it," he said. "This is the love scene."
"It sure is, cowboy." Maggie hung her arms about his neck. He wasn't the type to waste time, so she couldn't either.
The downpour made them both wet in some pretty good places.
A platoon of Japanese school kids pushed past them, loaded onto a bus, and took off in the rain. Tigue spotted the driver last minute.
"Marshal," the outlaw said.
The game was afoot.
Tigue jumped on the back of the bus. Girls wearing too much pink and skirts and black clunky shoes let him in.
One minute till the next jump.
Maggie ran to her compact car and chased after the bus.
The outlaw spotted Tigue coming up the aisle. Was it a crime to roam history, playing around with people's lives? The timeline could stand a little alteration in its boring spots.
The interstate wound down the mountain on a serpentine that took no prisoners. One horseshoe treated them particularly unkind and sent the back end of the bus fishtailing toward the guard rail.
Thirty seconds left.
The brakes caught, the railing gave way, and the bus ended up hanging halfway out into oblivion. Maggie came running over.
Tigue said, "It's still the love scene, darlin'. Glad you made it."
The bus seesawed a bit over its ten-thousand-foot abyss. Tigue counted the school kids to and fro with his remaining ten seconds. When he disappeared, the weight balance would shift. The back end would plummet. All kids would die.
"You've gotta take my place, sugar," Tigue told his waitress. She climbed aboard. Tigue and the outlaw disappeared.
"I hope I'm dreamin'," Maggie said. Little Japanese faces screamed at her. The cliffside went silent. A few pebbles trickled down. The bus teetered.
Damn.
I still can't remember that ending.
Its womb is filled with Japanese school children.
I've seen this movie before.
But I can't remember the ending.
Tigue was jumping through time at ten-minute intervals. He had that long to catch the outlaw. Or else the chase would continue.
This jump led him to a rest area off of the interstate. A way station for travelers. A carnival of complaints.
Maggie the waitress spotted Tigue right away. The guy practically had a shimmering aura around him, he was so alive compared to everybody else. She almost tripped herself getting to his table.
Tigue ordered a lot of food, messy. "The same way I like my women," he said.
Maggie blew a curl up off of her forehead. Her knees twitched involuntarily.
"I'm chasing an outlaw," Tigue said. "Been at it for awhile."
"Are you a cop?" Maggie said, handing over a salad with fries that Tigue hadn't ordered.
"Sure," Tigue said. "I'm all cop."
More flirty stuff followed.
Later, Maggie the waitress chased Tigue out into the rain, halfway across the parking lot. Tigue had used seven of his ten minutes. Soon he would jump again.
"I get it," he said. "This is the love scene."
"It sure is, cowboy." Maggie hung her arms about his neck. He wasn't the type to waste time, so she couldn't either.
The downpour made them both wet in some pretty good places.
A platoon of Japanese school kids pushed past them, loaded onto a bus, and took off in the rain. Tigue spotted the driver last minute.
"Marshal," the outlaw said.
The game was afoot.
Tigue jumped on the back of the bus. Girls wearing too much pink and skirts and black clunky shoes let him in.
One minute till the next jump.
Maggie ran to her compact car and chased after the bus.
The outlaw spotted Tigue coming up the aisle. Was it a crime to roam history, playing around with people's lives? The timeline could stand a little alteration in its boring spots.
The interstate wound down the mountain on a serpentine that took no prisoners. One horseshoe treated them particularly unkind and sent the back end of the bus fishtailing toward the guard rail.
Thirty seconds left.
The brakes caught, the railing gave way, and the bus ended up hanging halfway out into oblivion. Maggie came running over.
Tigue said, "It's still the love scene, darlin'. Glad you made it."
The bus seesawed a bit over its ten-thousand-foot abyss. Tigue counted the school kids to and fro with his remaining ten seconds. When he disappeared, the weight balance would shift. The back end would plummet. All kids would die.
"You've gotta take my place, sugar," Tigue told his waitress. She climbed aboard. Tigue and the outlaw disappeared.
"I hope I'm dreamin'," Maggie said. Little Japanese faces screamed at her. The cliffside went silent. A few pebbles trickled down. The bus teetered.
Damn.
I still can't remember that ending.
