One Surly Bus Driver

The Greyhound bus isn’t as packed as I thought it would be. Usually, the Minneapolis to Chicago route is sold out. Katrina and I have a row to ourselves. She snuggles up close to me in the seat. I can practically taste her fruity perfume. Her glasses droop low on her face as she reads her Kindle. Her dimples look more pronounced whenever she’s concentrating on something. If there were an award for the most kissable nerd in the world, she would win.

She’s letting me stay at her house over Christmas break. I’m going to meet her parents for the first time. Even though they were nice enough to raise a girl like Katrina, I’m still a little nervous.

“What are you reading, Kitty Kat?” I ask.

“Nothing that you would be into,” she says.

She swipes to the front cover. It shows a half-naked, ripped man holding a fully naked woman in his arms. The title gives no illusions as to the genre.

Smother Me: A Novel.

“Dear God…” I say. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

She shrugs and gets back to reading. I lay my head down on her lap.

“Don’t you think your parents would mind if I smothered you right in their house?” I ask.

“Oh, don’t get any ideas,” she says. “You’re going to sleep on the floor and like it.”

We’ll see about that. I doze for a few minutes before we get into the first rest stop at Madison. The loudspeaker crackles as the bus driver talks into it.

“Attention passengers, we are getting into Madison and will be stopping for a short break. It is 5:35 PM now, so please make sure to be back on the bus at 6:00 PM. We’ll be taking a 25 minute break.”

We pull into a Phillips 66 gas station. Most of the passengers disembark to stretch their legs. A few new passengers get on and stow their bags away. Katrina and I stay put. She takes a bag of pretzels out of her backpack and starts munching on them. I open my mouth expectantly.

“See if you can drop one in,” I ask.

“Or you can feed yourself,” she says.

I’m not giving up. I keep my mouth open. She sighs. Then she takes a pretzel, lines it up with my mouth, and lets go. It falls right in.

“Swish!” I say. “One more…”

She feeds me another pretzel. I take her hand in mine and kiss it. Then I sit back up and kiss her neck. She gasps.

“Connor, not now… there are other… oh babe…”

There are a few reasons why I like taking the bus instead of driving back and forth from Wisconsin to Illinois. You can watch a movie or read a book, and you don’t have to concentrate on the road for hours and hours. Plus, I can make out with Katrina whenever I want.

She exhales with pleasure.

“Okay… I get it… oh man…”

She pushes me away. Her face is flushed. Her glasses almost fall off. She pushes them back up.

“Have to do that before we get home to your parents,” I say.

“Guess so,” she says.

That’s when the bus starts moving. We didn’t stay that long at the rest stop. I look at my watch. It’s only 5:50 PM. Didn’t the driver say that we’d be leaving at 6:00 PM?

“Hey Kat, aren’t we leaving a little early? I thought the driver said 6:00 PM.”

“I think you’re right,” she says.

We don’t go more than a few feet before somebody near the back starts yelling.

Hold on! You left somebody behind!

I look out the window. A lady runs back towards the bus. She has her cellphone glued to her ear.

“That’s not my problem!” the driver says. “I said to be back on the bus at 5:50 PM!”

No, you said 6:00 PM!

“You misunderstood me!” the driver says. “If you had a question, you should have asked me!”

Some of the other passengers speak up. Eventually, the driver slams on the brakes and opens the door. The stragglers pour in.

“Do we have everybody on now?” the driver asks.

Nope! Still waiting!

“Ugh… fuck!” the driver whispers. “Gonna be late getting into Chicago… fuck!”

Man, she is getting bent out of shape. It’s hard not to laugh at her, but I try to hold it in. We stay idle in the parking lot. A few more people make it back on.

“Okay! Now can we get going?” the driver asks.

There are a few murmurs. Nobody speaks up. The driver pulls out of the gas station and goes back onto the highway. I think she’s going a little faster now…

Wait! There’s somebody missing! Stop the bus!

Oh boy. Here we go.

The driver pulls over to the side of the highway. Cars speed past us like bullets. Pushing open the door in front of the driver’s cab, the driver gets out of her seat and stands at the front of the aisle.

I almost crack a rib trying not to laugh. The look on her face would turn Medusa to stone. I can see all her years as a driver on it. The corners of her lips curl down into a frown. She shoots daggers out of her eyes like a knife thrower.

“Y’all getting on my nerves,” she says. “Did we really leave somebody behind?”

Nah, we’re good! We can go!

The driver’s frown turns upside-down.

“Thank you!” she says. Then she gets back into the cab. Tears fall down my cheeks. I cover my mouth. My body heaves up and down with my giggles.

“Seriously,” Katrina says, “it’s not that funny.”

I can’t respond. It’s like a laughing fit has come over me.

“Fuck! Come on!” the driver says. I don’t know how she’s going to be able to merge back onto the highway. The cars flying past us are never-ending.

“Fuck fuck fuck!”

My bladder unclenches. A spot forms on my jeans. This is the funniest damn thing that’s happened to me in a while. We sit on the side of the highway for a few minutes until the driver finds an opening.

“Okay… here we go,” she says.

She floors the gas. The bus rocks as we go over the rumble strips on the side of the highway. Then she merges successfully. We’re on our way now.

“Damn it! Now we’re not getting into Chicago on time!” she says.

The people in the back show no mercy.

Well, step on it then!

Even Katrina laughs at that one. She snorts like a pig on a farm. It’s the cutest freaking thing I’ve ever heard. The driver doesn’t respond. I can feel the anger emanating from her seat. We’re really flying now. I guess she is stepping on it.

“I think she’s got a few screws loose,” Katrina says. “She’s one surly bus driver.”

“I think my bladder’s loose,” I say. “I can’t remember the last time I pissed my pants laughing!”

The driver calls somebody on her cellphone. She holds it to her ear with her left hand and steers with her right.

“Hey, I’m going to be super late getting in tonight. It’ll be about 10:30… oh, I’m getting baked when I get there… okay, see you later.”

I thought it was illegal to talk on your phone while driving, but I don’t dare say anything. Katrina goes back to her Kindle. I plug in my ear buds and start listening to some good old EDM. My heart flutters when she leans her head against my shoulder. There’s no place I would rather be in the world than with her next to me.

Later, the lights flicker on as we pull in at Milwaukee.

“Okay, we are now arriving at Milwaukee. Let’s make sure that we’re all square on the time! It is 7:30 PM. I want you back on the bus at 7:55 PM exactly! Once again: you need to be back on the bus at 7:55 PM on the dot! Can you all repeat the time back to me?”

One of the wise-asses in the back says 8:05. I almost break out laughing again. We pull in front of a convenience store. It looks as big as a shopping mall. The moment the bus stops, a light bulb goes off in my head.

“Oh man, I’ve just got the funniest idea.”

I sprint off the bus and into the convenience store. The rows of soda bottles and potato chip bags look like a rainbow. A freezer near the back is stuffed with bags of ice and frozen food cartons.

And thank the Lord, they even sell toys here. Water guns, Lego sets, action figures, board games… and whoopee cushions. I take one off the shelf and pay for it at the register. Ripping the plastic wrapping off, I blow it up as I hurry back to the bus.

The driver left her seat. Adrenaline rushes through my veins. This is my chance. I open up the plastic door to the cab, set the whoopee cushion down, and close the door. Then I go back to my seat.

“What the hell were you doing in there?” Katrina asks.

“You’ll see,” I say.

My armpits are drenched with sweat. I feel like I’m sitting on pins and needles as I wait for the driver to come back. My heart thumbs against my ribs. The suspense is killing me. I stare at my watch. The minute hand takes its time. I watch the driver’s seat like a hawk…

Oh my God there she is holy shit here we go… she’s pulling open the cab… now she’s sitting down…

Phhrrt!

The fart goes on for an eternity. It echoes throughout the entire bus. I don’t think there’s ever been one as long, loud, and wet.

When it’s over, the bus erupts. Every single passenger howls with laughter. Katrina’s glasses fall off her face as she smacks her thighs. What’s left of the liquid in my bladder leaks out and soils my underwear. Tears stream down my cheeks. If it’s possible to die laughing, then I’m not long for this world. It’ll be worth it, though.

“It’s all fun and games until somebody shits their pants!” Katrina says.

The driver doesn’t say anything as she gets up, takes the whoopee cushion off of her seat, and tears it to pieces with her nails. Her face is expressionless. It’s a good thing that I’m sitting in the middle of the bus. There are some other passengers separating the two of us in case she goes postal.

“Whoever put this on my seat can kiss my big, fat ass!”

No thanks. Maybe another day. The driver starts the bus… and somebody with two huge suitcases sprints right for it. The hits just keep coming. The driver sighs as she slams on the brakes.

“I’ve got a question for you!” she says. “It looks like somebody decided to show up right at 7:55 PM! Should I teach him a lesson or should I let him on?”

There’s a roar from the back of the bus.

TEACH HIM A LESSON! FLOOR IT!

Katrina seems to be the only one who wants to let him on. Amazingly, the driver relents and opens the door for him, but not without giving him a tongue lashing.

“You’re holding everybody up!” she says. “Just because the bus leaves at 7:55 PM doesn’t mean that you should show up right at 7:55 PM! People always complain whenever the bus is late, and it’s because of people like you!”

The passenger gets on. I can tell that he’s trying not to laugh, too. Somehow, he fits his luggage in the overhead compartment and sits down. The tires squeal as the driver floors it. We shoot back onto the highway.

“I think she’s speeding,” Katrina says. “We’re going to get into an accident.”

She’s right. The bus starts to tip whenever we turn. The white strips on the highway look like a continuous blur. Some of the other drivers honk at us as we weave in and out of traffic.

“Oh my God!” Katrina says. “She just clipped somebody!”

Now I’m getting really freaking nervous. This isn’t funny anymore. Somebody speaks up from the back.

Yo! Slow down! You’re gonna get us killed!

The driver doesn’t respond. We have to be doing 90 MPH now. The engine roars like a lion.

“Connor, go up there and tell her to slow down!” Katrina asks.

She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I get up and brace myself against the headrests as I make my way to the front.

“Excuse me, can you please slow down?” I ask. “Somebody’s going to get hurt!”

“Sit back down and shut up!” she says. “This ain’t your bus! I can drive however I want!”

I look at the speedometer. It’s getting close to 100 MPH.

“You have to stop! You’re going-”

That’s when she pulls a gun on me. A freaking gun. I don’t know what model it is. All I know is that it’s a gun. A gun used to kill people.

“Ho… ho… oh…”

One of the passengers screams. Then chaos takes over. A woman rushes up the aisle and tries to break out the front door even though we’re in the middle of a highway. The door flaps come open. The roar of the wind outside is deafening. The woman tumbles out of the bus and falls onto the road. Somebody next to us honks. Tires squeal.

There’s a mad rush to the front of the bus. I crawl over the tops of the seats to get back to Katrina. All the color is gone from her face. She looks terrified.

“Put your seatbelt on and keep your head between your knees,” I say. “Don’t worry… we’ll get through this.”

“Babe, what’s going-”

“We’re going to crash,” I say. “You have to be ready.”

I meet her teal-colored eyes. Her beautiful, glassy eyes…

“I love you,” I say.

She gasps. Her breath catches. I see a tear on the rim of her eyelid. Before I can react, she places her lips on mine. For a moment, everything is perfect. My stomach turns over inside me like I’m a 12-year-old kissing a girl for the first time. Warm blood flows into my cheeks.

“I… I love you too,” she says.

Then she does what I asked. She places her head between her legs as I do the same. The bus shakes… we go faster and faster… a truck driver honks at us… a crashing noise punctures my eardrums… darkness falls over my eyes…

#

The first thing I notice is my ringing ears. It sounds like somebody is using a drill next to me. I cover them up. It makes no difference.

“Oh… fuck me…”

I feel a bump on my forehead. It must have knocked against something. A throbbing headache pounds against my cranium. Every single tendon, muscle, and ligament in my body hurts. Did I get tackled by an NFL player or something?

“Connor, are you okay?”

I hear a voice. A girl’s voice. It sounds like it’s coming from underwater. I try to open my eyes. My vision sways.

“Ah… God…”

The memories come back to me. I’m still on the bus. The driver pulled a gun on me. We must have crashed into something. Red and blue lights flash outside. Emergency sirens wail.

Somebody places their hand on my face. It feels soft…

Katrina.

“Oh thank God,” she says.

She pulls me in for a hug. I feel a sharp pain in my neck.

“Fuck stop it hurts oh wow,” I say.

“Oh… sorry…”

She lets me go. She’s not wearing her glasses anymore. They must have broken during the wreck. She looks just as cute without them. There’s a gash on her left cheek that goes down to her neck, but it’s not bleeding.

We both survived.

“What… what happened?” I ask.

“We crashed into the bed of an 18-wheeler,” she says. “The entire front of the bus got sandwiched. Everybody in the first few rows died on impact.”

I unbuckle my seatbelt and stand up. The scene in front of me looks like the wreckage from a Hollywood car chase. Glass from the windshield covers the floor. The front seats are on top of each other now. Metal fragments stick out in a million directions. My stomach roils when I see the red spots scattered about.

“Holy… shit, man…”

The emergency hatch in the roof is open. There’s a ladder that leads to the top. I handle each rung one at a time. EMTs stand at the top. They help me and Julia out. Then we take another ladder down from the top of the bus to the ground.

“Katrina!”

A man’s voice calls out to her. He stands with a woman on the side of the road.

“Mom! Dad!” she says.

She sprints across the street as if she’s in perfect physical condition and jumps into her Dad’s arms. If first impressions are anything to go by, he looks like he’s in a biker gang. Both of my biceps put together aren’t as big as one of his. I notice some ink hidden under his shirt sleeve. How the hell did she inherit half of her genes from him? She looks a lot more like her Mom. They both wear similar pairs of glasses.

After saying a prayer for luck, I walk over. Katrina introduces me.

“This is my boyfriend, Connor. He saved my life on the bus.”

“Really?” her Dad says. “Well, pleased to meet you.”

He gives me a firm handshake and almost crushes the bones in my hands. I keep a straight face.

“Are you okay?” her Mom asks.

“Yeah… I’m fine,” I say. “But maybe next time we’ll take the train,” I say.