I have decided this piece - with a little tweaking - will be used as my entry into the New Zealand National Short Stroy Competition. I therefore would greatly appreciate critiques and reviews, micro, macro, hell whatever I just want to sharpen it up. I am happy with the theme and characters but I would still welcome any suggestions.
Please excuse typo's, poor syntax and grammar. Please understand I am hopelessly out of practice. Reviews both kind and harsh are welcomed.
(Edit: I have done my absolute best with the punctuation and edited out a few typos. I have also tried to make some awkward areas flow better and break up the description.)
***
Lonely Road
This place reeked of her, Eddie thought as he glanced up from his book. Olive skinned families were shuffling down the aisle and, eddie noticed, amongst the locals was a young blonde thing. She moved with short side steps and held in her arms a large black camera bag.
The bus gave a jolt and she fell into her seat beside Eddie, who raised his brow and dipped his head, tacitly acknowledging her before continuing his book. She shifted a moment in her seat and placed her bag between her feet.
Movies with spanish subtitles screened as the bus rolled over sandy plains and through dusty red towns. Eddie spied a huge wooden crucifix as the bus ambled through its great shadow. Some time passed and the clear night sky was dotted with stars and a half moon. The gears were grinding loudly as the huge bus wheeled into the station. More passengers climbed aboard.
Outside the window Eddie watched two prune skinned folk under bright dirty rags hanging from the crown of their head to the dry earth. They smiled at the bus and he smiled back. His pupils shined blue between his half closed eyelids. All the creases of his face became deep lines tracing around the corner of his lips, up his cheeks and across his forehead.
"Empañada o gaseosa?" A round faced, olive skinned man with stained clothes stood over the girl. Eddie watched her eyebrows rise, her bottem lip roll over her top and her head shake."Chica, empeñada o gaseosa?"
She plunged into her camera bag and pulled from it a small blue phrase book. She flicked back and forth through the pages until Eddie interrupted.
"Would you like a soft drink or a pie?"
"Oh, umm no thanks." She said turning her attention between the two.
"No gracias. Señorita no habla español."
The man left, and his spiel rung down the aisle
"Thanks." She said timidly.
" Oh its fine, don't mention it. Where are you from?"
"I'm a kiwi."
" Is that right? I´m from Invercargil. Eddie's the name." The old man extended a caloused open grip which wrapped her soft pale hand almost to the wrist.
"Paula," she said with a soft smile. " You speak very good Spanish."
"Thanks, I guess that's what happens when you live with a Spanish speaker for 50 years"
He reopened the page of his book, read for a while then eventually sleep came.
When he woke Paula sat next to him, wide-eyed and watching the amber creased horizon. Eddie scratched his neck and tensed his chest but it came. Thick, wet, choking coughs. He produced a handkerchief from his sleeve and covered his mouth as blood came like a sawn-off shotgun. He wiped his mouth clear then spoke a morning croak voice.
"So are you having your gap year?"
" Yeah something like that, I am actually visiting my mum"
"She lives in Cordoba?"
" Well in a small village beyond Cordoba, I haven't seen her for a while." Paula closed her eyes and ran a hand through her straight blonde hair and over her ear.
"I bet she's excited to see you?" Paula looked Eddie in the eye.
"Well, she doesn't actually know I am coming, its a long story."
"Paula, we have a very long time at least a few more hours before we reach Cordoba." Eddie spoke with a sly happy grin and quarter-moon eyes. He pronounced Cordoba with a chesty 'cor', then a rolling 'r' then the last of his breath was pushed out, tongue tapping top teeth then lips meeting and opening again 'doh-bah'.
Paula paused, her eyes moved around and she rubbed one arm, even though inside the bus it was warm.
"It's complicated," she began "My mother was once a photography teacher at my high school then one day she disappeared. There was no incident or fight she was just gone."
Eddie grew curious, his thick dark brow almost converged over the bridge of his nose and he ran his tongue over his dry lips.
"Usually she would give me a ride to school in the morning but that day I woke and she was gone, no note, no good bye, nothing." Paula's cheeks went from pale to rose.A tight smile stretched across her cheeks. She continued, " So she was gone without explanation, my father lied and told me she had gone to visit my Grandmother. A few days later he confessed he didn't know what happened to her, she just packed her clothes, took some money and left."
Eddie eyed her with small dark eyes his face hung long and droopy, he nodded and she continued. "He told me she left, he told me he didn't know where she had gone or why. Weeks past slowly, then months and finally years. A new woman began to visit and eventually she moved in. She was nice at first and Dad and her seemed to get on well but she became demanding and scolded me when any opportunity presented itself. I began to abandon hope of seeing Mum again. My days were long and I changed schools. I worked hard but no longer pursued a career in photography, I lost it. Then it happened. Late one night I heard the front door close down stairs at our house. At first I just assumed Dad and his new girl were coming in but my alarm clock read 2 am and that seemed too late."
Eddie's eyes were narrow with concern. He could feel a cough coming on but he swallowed hard and nodded Paula on.
"I heard people talking. Dad's voice and another man's voice. I opened my bedroom door slowly with a long whiny creak then I gently moved down the stairs. I listened to the other man's voice and followed it to the door of the lounge. I peeped through the crack and discovered a tall lean gaunt figure beneath a cowboys hat sat under the dim light of the lounge.
His dark eyes were on my father and he spoke, 'I am getting close, it was Paris last Summer and I have evidence to suggest Cairo is next.' The man placed a cigarette between his chapped lips. My heart beat almost drown out the conversation in the lounge. Dad pointed to the corner at the smoke alarm and the man placed the cigarette back in the pack and handed him a dust-brown envelope and said 'Here, this is all the information I have.' Dad thanked the man and watched him leave. He Then took the envelope and placed it in the middle of his set of drawers in the lounge."
"The next day before I went to school and after Dad had left for work I went into the drawer and I found, hidden beneath the facade of old power bills, a dozen blank envelopes," She paused and Eddie drew a sharp breath through his nose and his eyes grew wide and wandered then fixed narrow again. "Some of the envelopes were old and tattered, some crip and new, but invariably inside every envelope I found a letter, all hand written and often accompanied by receipts or flight ticket stubs. The letters explained everything, Mum had been to Tokyo, Istanbul, San Francisco and Paris. I was still in school but I knew when I finished I would find her; track her down and have all the questions answered. I waited two years and most days checked the drawer, read over old letters, studied her travel patterns. The letters came once every two or three months. Finally no more letters were added to the drawer about six months ago.”
“ The last letter explained she had bought a property in Alta Garcia, a small town outside of Cordoba." Paula reached into her bag. She pulled from it a small leather bound journal, opened the first page and out fell a square photograph." And the letter was accompanied by this photo."
Eddie accepted the photograph and he studied it. In the center stood a tall slender woman dressed in light jeans, a thin white hanging shirt and a long black cross with a long black beaded necklace. She smiled a subtle peach smile and her maple eyes were vivid contrasted against dark mascara. Her hair was pulled tight, tied at the back and came down over one shoulder. Around her stood a hand-full of dark skinned children the oldest no older than 10. They were laughing and grinning and staring into the lens. Behind the people was a dusty maroon clay shanty.
"Your mum, she's pretty"
"She looks very different, she used to have short hair and thick lipstick, and the cross, I had never seen her wear a cross at home, she just seems so different, I guess she just changed."
Eddie sat a moment, he locked his fingers together and brought them to his mouth. He drew a long breath through his nose, turned to Paula and spoke."I have lived 78 years and I am yet to see anyone change, I have seen their face change, their hair change, their location and ocupation change, but, from the day someone opens their eyes til the day they close them, at the core they remain the same, circumstances change but people; Hell, people don't ever change." Eddie watched Paulas eyes flash painful for a moment as though she was staring into the sun, then her gaze fell to the floor. Her shoulders dropped slump. Her painful look warped confused and ponderous, musing then, with a long nasal breath, relieved.
"You never told me what you came over here for?"
He glanced outside and caught glimpse of another religious relic - a large wooden cross set on a hill over looking a small village. A smarting pain flashed in his chest and his face felt warm. He swallowed and answered quietly, "I promised my wife I would visit this place this place. I promised I would visit her family."
The dusty milieu was changing around them. Cacti became lamp posts and the vast flat horizon was lost at first behind shops, shacks and fences, then dull buildings of the commercial model. Colour and character yielded to the cold city and occasionally a towering cathedral would pass by but sky high sleek office buildings, for the most part, owned the city. The people were no longer toothless bearded village folk in rags and barefoot children hoofing a makeshift football. This crowd walked with hurried strides, detached expressions; barking down their cellphones and sipping from their paper cups.
Eddie and Paula sat silent and still. The bus slowed and swung beneath a high steel roof and into the bus depot. The bus exhaled and the doors swung open.
"This is my stop." Paula stood to let Eddie pass into the aisle. He reached into the overhead storage and pulled down a brown leather duffel bag with worn handles and 'Gisela Lopez' embroidered in mustard lettering; tastefully and discretely placed in the bottom left corner.
"It was nice to meet you Eddie."
"You too kid. Good luck finding your mum."
Paula smiled and glanced down at the photograph in her hand. Eddie walked with a stiff leg, he eased himself through the door clutching a handrail in one hand and the brown bag in the other. He pulled from the bag a tattered square map and hobbled along. He breathed heavy and coughed up a little more blood. He glanced down at the cold pavement beneath his dust brown leather shoes. The sharp pain in his chest came again and he realised his heart was still broken.
. Wow, I love the way you write. This was a very cute story and wrote it in such a way that I was drawn in until the end. I was kind of looking forward though to actually reading about the actual meeting with the mum but I can see you decided to leave it to the reader's imagination. 
