Bus
The Bus
The bus … I'm six or seven, now.
We go to BCA --
A private, Christian school --
Meaning someone's gotta pay …
And someone did -- I don't know who.
I'm sure it wasn't cheap.
They had a bus -- a little one,
The cost was kinda steep.
And so it was that Mr. Carr,
Who drove for public school,
Said we could ride
his
bus at night.
I'm sure it broke some rule.
The deal was, we had to be
A block or two away --
Just down the hill and to the right
From good ol' BCA.
As things turned out, we had some time
To kill before he came.
A small store, half a block away --
It'd really be a shame
To waste our time just sitting there,
When we could spend our dimes
On things to eat, or drink, or read --
Turn waiting to good times!
And so it was, that fateful day --
We either shopped too long,
Or Mr. Carr left early,
Or then something else went wrong …
It was Bud who said, "Hey! There's the bus!"
They both turned in a flash,
Across the street and down the hill --
I followed in a dash.
Look left, then right. I got it.
Look both ways before you cross.
And I did, but then I reasoned,
There's a way to cut some loss.
Just look left, and if it's empty,
Start across, and then look right.
It's a lane away -- that's sev'ral feet --
That's seconds off my flight!
It would have worked, my logic tight,
But for one tiny glitch:
The road in question was one way --
Left looks became the hitch!
No traffic came at all that way.
The reason soon was plain --
The BCA bus, from the right,
Bore down right in my lane!
I looked up, just in time to see
Stark terror on the face
Of that poor driver, slamming brakes,
As tires soon shortened space.
Alas, the laws of physics held:
Two objects cannot share
A single space -- one has to move.
I did not have a prayer …
But even so, the bus slowed down
Enough so that the whack
Just knocked me down and chipped my teeth.
And yeah, there was that thwack!
The big long bus of Mr. Carr's,
Still idled at its stop.
I jumped up, started running --
Two bystanders got the drop.
They swung me up, then laid me down,
Then yelled, "Call 911!"
An ambulance came screaming.
The attendant asked me, "Son?
"Want us to run the siren?"
Ron and Bud both nodded,
Yes!
I didn't want to be a bother, so I said,
"No need, I guess."
Then the phone rang at the office
Where my mom picked up and heard,
"This is Officer McGruder.
Is this Mrs. Wanda Byrd?
"Well, your son's been in an accident.
He's now in the ER --
Hit by a bus, I understand.
Do I need to send a car?"
She couldn't speak, but somehow managed
To come through that ER door --
White and trembling, barely walking.
She couldn't take a great deal more.
"Hi, Mom," I said, so cheerily.
"What's wrong? You seen a ghost?"
She took a while to calm back down,
Sort of trembling -- almost.
He could have said, "Small school bus,"
Better yet, "A yellow van."
She had visions of a Greyhound!
For a cop, "Bad form, my man!"