Bus seat views

I'm Charlie, and I'm in fourth grade. I write in a diary, my doctor says it will help me sort my feelings out. My mom says I am “on the spectrum” but I am not sure what she means by that. She says I have to be aware of what goes on around me, all the time, even on the bus, where we are supposed to behave like we would in school. There is even a sign with directions like “Keep hands, words, and belongings to yourself”. Some of the kids don't behave all the time, but Nick, our driver, usually doesn't let them get away with much. So I watch, and try to figure everyone out.

It's Tuesday afternoon, and we are heading home on the bus. It's real hot, the middle of September. The bus clowns in front of me are making fart noises with their mouths and hands, while laughing. This goes on for a while, until someone cuts a real one, and they really start laughing, and yelling things like, “Gross, or, you stink, or, time to change your panties”. That is my favorite funny- the panties part, not the farting. It was a good thing about the heat, all the windows are open.

Joe sits right behind the driver. He used to have a problem, grabbing backpack straps as kids went down the steps. I heard Nick talking to the Assistant Principal, Mr Sanders, about Joe. They both said it was a safety problem. Nick got permission to talk to Joe”s mom, told her his idea, and Nick started bringing in books for Joe to read, and the strap grabbing mostly stopped.

Today, the six or so farty boys are in the back of the bus. Most of them are Fifth graders, and all are looking at something on Tommy”s laptop. For once, they are super quiet, way quieter than normal. I am beginning to wonder what they are looking at. Suddenly, the bus driver gets on the intercom, and says “What are you guys in the back looking at? Some of you are not sitting, others are turned around, looking at a laptop. I’m going to stop the bus, and I want to see what you are looking at”. Man, I have never seen kids move so fast. Computer closed, hidden in a backpack. Everyone involved sitting straight for once, looking forward, like they never do, some with “I got caught” looks on their faces. It wasn't until I got home that I realized the bus never slowed down. Huh. Gonna try to remember that.

Another one of the Bus rules is ”Stay in your seat at all times until you can unload”. Nick says that the proper way to sit is, butt - that word makes alot of us laugh- all the way on the seat, and you are to face forward. Turning to talk to someone behind you, even with your butt on a seat, isn't safe seating. I'm writing about this because one of the farty guys, Sammy, decided to throw himself over the seat, headfirst, and land on the seat. His pals laughed, and laughed harder when he did it a second time, and landed on a small girl, Tania. Nick stopped the bus, and made Sammy sit up front. Nick then explained to all of us why what Sammy did was dangerous, and that it would not be tolerated. When we got to school, Sammy had to stay on the bus, and then talk to Mr. Sanders. Sammy didn't get on the bus for two weeks, his mom had to drive him to school.

Today, I had to sit next to Raheem. He is a good student, doesn’t get into trouble, but is kind of bossy. He always has bad jokes. Today was, “Hey Charlie, What kind of bear gets caught in a rainstorm”? I didn't answer, because I knew he would tell me before I could maybe figure it out. “A drizzly bear”, He said. I tried not to smile, but a small one leaked out. Next was “What did the triangle say to the circle? You’re pointless”. Another small smile from me. Then he said “Why do birds fly south every winter?” I knew this one, we gave the answer together “ It's too far to walk”.

Then I remembered a joke my Dad asked me.

“Knock, knock”, I said to Raheem

Who’s there?

Cows go.

Cows go who? No silly, cows go MOO!

Raheem smiled, and said that was a good one.

I'm writing this after my whole fourth grade class went on a three day weekend camp trip. We rode in buses to Camp Potomac. Once we were at the camp, before we unloaded, each bus was met by one of the camp staff. They explained how the area around the camp was very dry, for it hadn't rained for weeks. They warned us about starting fires anywhere but the firepits, and asked if anyone had fireworks, for they were expressly forbidden. We had been told by teachers no fireworks were allowed, so everyone said they didn't have any. We stayed in cabins, had meals in a lodge, night time campfires, and had lots of outdoor activities. Things like canoeing, archery, and swimming. There were Indian sites to visit, trails for hiking, and games to play. My favorite was the rope swing. It was fun, and we all laughed at the students who couldn't swing right, and did belly flops, or crash landed. We got to make our own breakfasts, cereal and fruit, and one dinner at our campsites. Each campsite had picnic tables for eating and planning, plus a firepit for nighttime get-togethers. It was after the dinner we made for ourselves on the last night that the problem happened. One of the farty boys, Theo, was in our group, and he had hidden a can of beans meant for dinner. The night time campfire died down, and we went to bed, and Theo snuck out of his cabin, put a few logs on the embers, and added the can. It didn't take long, and the can exploded. It woke everyone up (well, most everyone. A few kids slept through it all), the staff was very mad, and grilled all of us about “who had the fireworks”? No one would say they did, then one of the teachers found a metal can that had been blown inside out. It matched a bean can, so we got a late night lecture on wasting food. The next morning, after we loaded up to leave, the camp commander said we would not be allowed back next year. It was a sad ride back to school