For the last week and a half I’ve been participating in the Scintilla 13 Project. Supposedly. I’m working on getting caught up now.
From Day 4:
Being trapped in a confined environment can turn an ordinary experience into a powder keg. Write about a thing that happened to you while you were using transportation; anything from your first school bus ride, to a train or plane, to being in the backseat of the car on a family road trip.
Is there much worse than a school bus ride? Those big yellow boxes of death rolling down the road, filled with friends if your lucky or tormentors if you’re slightly different.
I hated riding the bus. All of them. Which is ironic because I am a little snooty about all those parents who won’t let their children ride the bus. The car lines at schools these days is obscenely long & to be honest, I can’t quite figure out how working parents make school pick up & drop off work because most parents I know are working at 3 in the afternoon. So it confuses me.
But I probably wouldn’t let my kid ride the bus either. It’s strange now that I don’t remember their names now but when we were little kids living in Billings, a brother-sister duo made life hellish for my brother and me on the bus each day. For some reason I picture the sister like Nellie on Little House on the Prairie. The brother is faceless.
I’m not sure I ever cried on front of them. I know I tried to give them as much hell as they gave us. I was a husky little kid in a lot of sense of the word. You kinda half to be when you’re sent to school in homemade overalls with your homemade Cabbage Patch doll. If you’re not kicking someone’s ass because you’re being teased, you’re figuring out some way to lay down some verbal smack. At least that’s how I remember it.
They called us Henry & Henrietta. My brother was Henrietta because he was so timid. Even though everyone knew he was my older brother, they called him my little brother. I was rougher. With a bigger personality. And I was stockier. And he was a scaredy cat. No doubt about it. He shrank under pressure.
They teased us, though, and they were merciless. Like I said, I don’t remember crying but I’m sure I did. I know I came home pissed off every day. All because of the bus.
Stupid school bus.
…which is to say nothing of flying up in the air and hitting my head on the ceiling if the bus when the driver took bumps or crested hills a little too fast, causing all of us to fly up & out of our seats.
Yeah, my kids won’t be riding the bus. *sigh*