Sunday, April 23, 2017

Rest In Agitation

I'd tried knocking on the bus door. I'd tapped on a window across from where he sat. Coming around to his side of the bus, I rapped on the window he was leaning against.

No response.

The bus driver was sitting toward the back of the yellow school bus, apparently not moving. Through the high bus windows, we -- me and the Kindergarteners who were supposed to be getting on the bus -- could only see the top of his gray-haired head. Wake up, man! Open the door! You've got children waiting! They want a ride home!

Maybe he'd fallen asleep? But the bus had arrived at the school mere minutes before, so that wasn't likely. Unless he had narcolepsy. Or maybe he was on his phone? Or maaaybe he'd hurt himself while doing the whole pre-boarding bus check and was now in peril?

Knock, knock, knock... "Hello?"


And that's when I blurted: "I think he's dead."

Thoughts, in the following order:

The bus driver is dead. What am I going to tell the children!?
How are the kids gonna get home NOW?
Who do I tell? Will any teacher do, or should I go straight to the principal?

But it turns out all those thoughts were unnecessary. As I made my way back to where the Kindergarteners were waiting, I heard one cry: "I see him! He's standing! He's coming to the front of the bus!"

Door opens, kids board.

It's... it's a miracle?!

What had the bus driver been doing? Had he just been making a phone call? Was he ignoring the knocking on purpose? What had finally gotten the bus driver off his butt? My knocking hadn't seemed to elicit any response. Had he...

Oh no...

Had he HEARD me say I thought he was dead?

Face + palm.

Well, whatever works, I guess....

Let this be a lesson to you: Do your job properly, or this woman might just declare you dead.

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