Charles was the hero of the day when his school bus ride became dangerous. This is a work of fiction inspired by real life events....
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"Give me back my pencil!"
The freckle-faced boy grabbed for the RED writing implement while the little fellow next to him waved it around out of his reach. It was a typical Tuesday morning on the Bondville elementary school BUS. The bus driver stared through the windshield, oblivious to the boys, while mechanically sipping from a white styrofoam cup of COFFEE. He kept his eyes glued to the road. He was a large lump of a man with a sizable belly hanging over his belt and eyelids that drooped halfway, looking as though he might be lolled into a nap during a red light. He had a day's worth of stubble on his face, and his clothes looked as though he had slept in them.
"HA! I got it!" Little Jimmy caught hold of the pencil when Charles relaxed his grip to gaze out the window. The roads were slick with rain. Charles pushed his blond hair off his face and sat upright in his seat, "Where are we going?"
"Huh?"
"We didn't take the turnoff on Leicester Road."
Jimmy leaned forward to look out the window. "Yeah, you're right."
"That's weird!"
"Maybe the driver just knows a shortcut," Jimmy replied. He returned his gaze to a GREEN BOOK on his lap.
"I still say it's weird!" Charles replied.
Ten minutes later, Charles nudged Jimmy and whispered in his ear. "We aren't anywhere near the school. Where is this guy going?"
Jimmy shot a glance out the window. They were passing Smith's nursery, at least 15 miles away from Bondville elementary school. It didn't make any sense. They should have been at the school a long time ago, and they were miles away and heading in the wrong direction. "Maybe we should say something," Jimmy suggested.
Charles nodded in agreement, and the boys walked slowly to the front of the bus.
"Excuse me, sir! The school is ten miles back, off of Leicester," Charles murmured to the man. The driver shot him a glance and spoke in a hissing tone, "Get back to your seats!" Charles startled at his harsh response as Jimmy grabbed the other boy by the arm and dragged him away. When they were out of earshot, Jimmy whispered in Charles's ear, "Did you see under his coat behind the seat? I saw a rifle sticking out of there!"
"What?"
"SHHHHH, be quiet! I saw a rifle sticking out from under his jacket behind the seat!"
"Man! What'll we do?"
"I think we should sit down and shut up!"
The boys settled in their seats and opened their schoolbooks. Charles took a peak at the driver. He observed the man's sluggish posture. The fellow didn't look dangerous, but why was he taking them somewhere strange, and why did he have a rifle on board the bus? Charles was FRIGHTENED, not only for himself but also for the other CHILDREN.
The yellow bus followed a serpentine route leading farther away from the school and deeper into the lush green countryside. The children gazed at grazing brown cows and farmer's fields, noses pressed against the windows and eyes wide in amazement. They wondered not only about the country scenes, but also about their destination. It had become apparent to all that something was amiss. The bus was not taking them to school.
When Jimmy realized the other children were becoming suspicious, his pulse raced. He nudged Charles.
"Charles, the other kids are starting to catch on. If they start making noise, who knows what that driver guy'll do?"
"We gotta tell them to be quiet...Wait a minute!" Charles reached into his knapsack, pulled out a tablet and started writing a note. It was difficult to control his trembling hand enough to eke out a legible scrawl. In cryptic letters it read, "Be quiet. Driver has rifle. Pass this on in secret." "Secret" was underlined and in big letters. He tapped the guy in front of him and passed the note up. The wrinkly piece of paper began its solemn journey from one kid to the next.
Soon the school bus became quiet. Every child was frozen in fear. It was a fear of the unknown. Without a word being spoken, the trip had changed. The boisterous ride to school became cloaked in an indefinable doom. All eyes gazed outside the bus to the real and beautiful world, the one where a kid could play ball or go to an amusement park. Minds and hearts raced as each child attempted to understand what could not be understood.
Jimmy and Charles whispered to one another, and Charles stood and walked to the front of the bus. Pulse racing, he leaned toward the driver and spoke, "I need to go to the bathroom."
"Sit down!"
Charles hesitated, then spoke again, "I really need to go to the bathroom! A lot of the other kids do, too!" He paused, then stammered as his head pounded like a jackhammer, "Where are we going anyway?"
The driver shot him an angry glance. His fat arms moved brusquely to steer the bus over to the side of the road. When it came to a stop, he turned off the ignition with an impatient movement and stood to speak to the children. Charles dashed back to his seat.
"I'm taking you on a little unplanned trip. I don't want to hear any lip from you kids."
His girth and demeanor made him an imposing figure. The fellow's face had lines etched in permanent frowns and all of his skin seemed to sag from the weight of the man. He was not someone to be reckoned with. Charles felt otherwise, however, as he lifted his head and surreptitiously whooshed a spitball toward the front of the bus.
The tiny wad hit the driver straight in the face, and although it had no real force, the surprise knocked him off balance. He teetered for a moment before falling to the floor with a thud. His head slammed against the sharp edge of a seat when he landed, and blood spread quickly across the floor. He was unconscious.
"Oh my gosh! Look what you did!" Jimmy stuttered.
"Never mind that! LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!" Charles replied. He ran to the front of the bus and pulled the lever to open the doors. "LET'S GO!" he signaled to the others and started herding them over the driver's prostrate body and to safety. Once outside, the children flagged a passing car.
When the police picked up the driver, he confessed he was planning to kidnap the children, and charge the parents and school a healthy ransom to get them back. Many compared Charles to a modern day David, like the biblical David who took down a giant with a mere slingshot. He was the hero of the day.
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Copyright 2002 Jo Ann English Janoski. All Rights Reserved.
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