I was riding on a Greyhound bus driven by a black woman (probably in her mid 30s) on a dirt road along a wide river. I didn't know why we had strayed so far from the main highway -- this road ran dangerously along the embankment to the river. Suddenly the bus began tipping over. I was afraid the bus would roll down the embankment and into the river, but somehow the bus straightened back up. When the bus started to tip over again and straightened up the second time, I walked to the front of the bus and told the driver I wanted off. Another person on the bus also wanted off. The driver, however, refused to stop and let us off. She continued driving along the river, reached a loop in the road, and circled back in the same direction we had come. I was becoming upset: obviously the driver was lost. She, however, said the river presented no danger because children even played in the shallow water along the shore. I retorted that children could drown in even one inch of water. 

Finally the driver spotted a craggy dirt road which ran up the side of a hill away from the river. The driver took the road, reached the top, and then began descending down the other side. Now the road was more like an extremely narrow gorge, with craggy cliffs on both sides of us, barely wide enough for the bus to pass through. If we were to encounter another vehicle coming toward us, there would be no room to pass.

Ahead of us (I was still standing up front) I could see the gorge narrowing into a space so small we obviously wouldn't be able to pass through. Right at the narrowest spot were piled rocks and boulders which looked like sculptures. Two flat round rocks (each perhaps 20 centimeters in diameter) seemed to be hanging on each side of the narrow gorge. The rocks seemed to have been carved to resemble human faces, and somehow they swung together in front of us, as if they were kissing, then separated back.

The driver seemed determined to pass through the narrow opening and she plowed the bus ahead. We came to a jolting stop as the bus wedged into both sides of the gorge. The driver and I climbed out of the bus and examined our situation. Indeed, we were wedged tight. My attention, however, was more focused on the rocks on the sides of the gorge. Many rocks had indeed been carved into different small statues of all sorts. They were standing on rock-shelves all around us. I thought if we would remove all the rocks and sculptures out of the road, the bus might be able to squeeze through. 

I picked up several of the statues and examined them. Many were ebony and looked like African carvings. One, however, seemed to be made of green emerald. It was perhaps 15 centimeters tall and looked like the statue of a man, but it had no head. I identified it as a statue of president William H. Taft. I recalled someone having mentioned earlier that two presidents had come from this region, and I concluded that Taft must have been one. I told the driver (who apparently had previously been down this road) that I would like to keep one of the statues. She seemed to think that would be all right. 

We began picking up the rocks and statues from along the walls of the gorge and piling them in the road ahead of us. I realized, however, that we were simply piling everything right in our path and that the bus would run over and destroy the statues. So I walked on down the roads a ways, looking for someplace better to stack the little statues.

I had only walked a short distance until the road led straight to a door in the back of a house. There was no way around. So I walked inside the open door and I called out to see if anyone was here. Someone answered and I walked into an adjoining room. 

Two women (both probably in their mid 30s) stood in front of me, one taller than the other. I spoke to them and they were friendly. I tried to explain to them about the bus. I was still puzzled about how the road led into the house, and I didn't see how the bus could pass through here, especially with the narrow doorways and small rooms.

Suddenly a car (painted like a Greyhound bus) pulled up outside at the same door where I had entered. I couldn't understand where the car had come from or how it had passed the bus. The same woman who had been driving the bus and another person stepped out of the car and walked inside where the two women and I were. The driver and the other person knew the two women, and they all hugged each other. 

After the effusion I turned again to the two women. Both were attractive, but I especially like the shorter one; I blurted out to her, "I like you." I had recently been thinking how I intended to be more friendly and outgoing with strangers -- a person could be just as friendly with a stranger as with people known for a long time.

The taller woman looked left out, so I told her that I liked her, too, but she still seemed wounded. 

The shorter woman and I sat down next to each other on a couch. She was on my left, so close we were touching. I laid my hand on her arm. Then I kissed her. She didn't respond at first, but then she stuck her tongue into my mouth and my teeth seemed to vibrate. Maybe my new attitude toward strangers had merit. 

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