Riding the School Bus

Luis stepped out into the street, gazing down the hill expectantly, and pressed his cell phone to his ear.

“Where is our driver?” Luis demanded in Spanish to the head of the bus company on the other end of the line. “It was supposed to be here 20 minutes ago!”

“He says it’s coming,” he informed me after hanging up. “The normal guy is in Ecuador today.”

I should have used the bathroom before I left the house.

Ten minutes passed as Luis paced from the sidewalk to the middle of the road to gaze down the hill before he finally gestured.

“There it is!” he yelled. “Let’s go!”

The purple-ish blue bus looked like a cross between a van and a bus. The outsourced company primarily runs tourist operations, Luis informed me. The Robert Smith School negotiated a special contract, but the company often prioritizes other business. The bus passed us and screeched to a halt just before blocking the nearby intersection. We ran over and jumped on. Luis almost fell over, still making his way to his seat when the bus suddenly jerked backwards down the hill as the driver attempted to put it into gear. We slid backwards 10 feet. Jolt. 20 feet backwards. Jolt. 10 feet backwards. Jolt.

This is interesting, I thought. The driver wrestled the shifter, finally forcing the bus into a forward gear. We sped off, bouncing over the bumpy roads and falling sideways with the inertia of the turns.

At one of the stops, a female teacher wearing dark lip liner, a tight pants-suit, and heels boarded the bus, a large purse slung over her shoulder. She sat across from me, just behind the door.

Several children boarded at the next stop, and the teacher snatched a rolling backpack from a girl with down syndrome who looked about eight, tossing the backpack to the front of the bus as the girl high-stepped her way onto the bus. The girl scanned the bus and stopped when she saw me. She grinned and planted a sloppy kiss on my cheek before proceeding to her seat.

“Delante! Delante! Delante!” the teacher shouted at the subsequent students boarding the bus. “Muy rapido, estamos con retraso!” – We’re late!

 One hour and twenty-five minutes since Luis and I embarked from the house, the bus finally skirted haphazardly to a halt in front of the school gate. I scribbled my signature for the security guard and bolted for the bathroom.