Me and My Little Bus

Friday I got my bus, my very own bus.

The day before, the school superintendent had shown me the bus that would be mine, and arranged with me to pick it up the next morning after football practice. Even though I worked most of last week, emotionally it just didn't count since that was a regular vehicle, not a BUS!

Excitement caught me up as I walked out to the parking lot and climbed inside. The sights and smells of all the bus-ness wrapped me in their warmth. It was time to make it mine.

The previous driver was much taller than me; I could barely reach the pedals. So I scooted the seat way forward, and checked the mirrors. No surprise - many of them were off kilter. No problemo. I knew exactly what to do.

It took several hops in and out of the bus before I had everything readjusted to my satisfaction. There! Time to go. I picked up the key out of the cupholder, stuck it in the ignition, and started the bus. Its gentle humming made me smile.

Just before putting it in gear, I glanced down to the console, where the previous driver had left antibacterial wipes. Wipes? That didn't make any sense; MY bus didn't have any wipes. Mouth agape, I looked out the right-hand window to where my bus sat, cold and still.

Um, sorry, John.

I re-readjusted all the mirrors the best I could, and scooted the seat back. Way back. I turned off the bus and put the key back in the cupholder. As quietly as possible, hoping no one was watching from any of the office windows, I crept humbly around to the spot where my bus, my actual bus, waited for me.

Then my bus and I skulked home.

Ready for tomorrow,

Noni Beth