Legend.

Legend 

Bench seats covered in dark green laminate type stuff. The green covers the brown laminate stuff that would get hot and burn. The green gets hot but stops before your legs turn red. The green does have a bad aftertaste unlike the brown which had almost zero, just a hint of gum or candy that may have been touching it last. The gum on the floor and under the seats add texture and color. A bit of squish if recent and soon to be a hard immovable mass if it's been a week or so. The runway down the middle is silver with black grooves down the middle. The black grooves in the middle are for the gum to expand into so you don't trip. They know everything, the people who build things and change the covers to the seats.  

My seat is three from the back and on the door side. I check between the seats for money, change mostly. Not today, not yet anyway. I lower the window made of plexiglass. The clips are white and as the window goes down it clicks. I lay my face against the window and stick my arm out. I know I can lose the arm but it seems worth it to me. There is some kind of talking. I look up over the seat. The older bus driver Ms. Starla hasn't driven in a while. She would always stop the bus till I put my arm in. Ms. Starla would yell at me and sing songs. We all would complain about the songs but they were mostly okay. Mr. Neil, however, doesn't seem to notice my arm. There is a wide mirror for watching us and Mr. Neil is talking to a group of older girls. I never have heard him speak, but he has a deep voice.  

Under the mirror is a word I do not know. It started all shiny silver but now only half of the word is silver the other half has faded to a plastic underside that's light brown. I used to think it said leg-end. Which made sense since we don't have to walk. I used the word once in class and I had to read it out loud and I said "leg end" meaning not having to walk. The teacher laughed and so did everyone else. They call me 'leg' a lot. Cause even though I'm short I have long legs. Either "leg" or "jacket man" because no matter how hot it gets I wear my jacket every day. I think to myself it's cause I don't have five shirts so I have to wear at least one again each week. But I know inside somewhere that's not it but I don't have enough time. So I will just keep wearing the jacket till school is out. I hate this jacket, it's like the laminate on the seat. Poor, yes. But it really holds heat. I guess it's supposed to being a jacket and all. But it doesn't do a good job at all in the winter and like now during the heat it really seems to show up at the wrong time. 

Mr. Neil is pointing up above the "Legend" to the mirror. A boy is arguing about sitting next to a girl. The girl wears purple pants a lot. She asked me to sit beside her once. She told me I could put my hand down the back of her pants if I wanted. She is older and in four grades over me so I went back to my seat. Todd Larnor is in her same grade and he started sitting by her a long time ago. Weeks now. There is a funny smell in the seat when I check it for change when I leave. Mr. Neil is telling Todd to get another seat. My face is on the plexiglass. The tires are on the gravel. I am waiting. I want to press myself into the space between the plexiglass. Stay forever. The pop of the air brake. We start to roll. The whole floor goes side to side because the gravel is not even. Not like the road ahead. This is my favorite part. The back and forth with the gravel and the high hum. The window vibrates and I press into it with the wind in my hand that can make it that far out. Around the sharp left corner and into the straight away. Then up the hill and turn left. Now on the road the vibration is not nearly as strong. But it's there and there are potholes to count on, three before the first stop. Only one before the second stop. Turning right at the light and we go over the curve, which I like. Then we turn left and go into the big circle where we all get off. I am last to get off. I check for money in between random seats. There are three one-dollar bills on a seat. The smell is what makes me travel when it comes to one-dollar bills. I remember the book fair is today. I'm excited I can get a book. I say "thank you" to Mr. Neil. He always has an odd smell like my grandfather. Sweat, yes, but something metal underneath.  

On the last step I start to get the shakes. I don't know what will happen today. I never do. I step down and the door closes right behind me. My hair moves a little and the door pushes my backpack. I stumble but I stay there. He can't go. There are too many buses ahead; he just wants the door closed. I don't blame him. If I could close a door I would. Yesterday the boys pushed me so hard into the cinder block wall of the bathroom stall that I have a half egg on my forehead. My hair covers it so that's good. My homeroom teacher Ms. Ball grabbed my arm so hard last week that she broke the skin with all five nails and I bled. Not much. But she has started leaving me alone after that. I have an attitude problem, she tells me. All I know is I want to be left alone. It's hard being the smallest and poorest and youngest. Like it's against nature or something. My first year of school there was only twelve of us in one room and we mostly played--it was in a church and it didn't count. I found out later it was a pretend grade that you didn't actually have to do. But now here at the new “real” school with numbered grades. It seems like there are thousands of students. We are always walking in line from one room to the next. The teachers complain about us moving, not how they would do it. There are so many places to get caught and attacked. I really like lunch. I eat everything because it's so good. I don't say it cause everyone complains all the time.  

We have only half of the cafeteria because there is a book fair. I want to get a book. This is my first year in this school and it's my first book fair. All the books are shiny and new and the colors and the smells. I eat quickly to go to the tables. When I walk up the girl with purple pants is crying saying to her friend she had three dollars this morning. Before I can stop myself I give her the money. She calls me a thief and runs off. I go to the first table and look but go no further. The lunch lady at the table asks me if I want a book. I say I forgot my money. She smiles and says “I'll buy it it's okay, this table here is only fifty cents." I think how long it will take to find fifty cents on the bus and it seems like it's possible. I start to step towards the table and she makes a sound like a puppy sound or something. So I run. Later in the bathroom I am doing my secret. I climb the wall of the stall and I hold till I release into a floating feeling. Tripp Blunde comes in and starts telling me I am "humping the wall." I'm not sure what he means but I'm sure it's bad. He gives me a wedgie and puts me in the trash can. One more class and I'm back on the bus.  

Before I went to the bathroom I was in the principal's office. On the daily walk around the school I had picked up like fifty calipiters and put them in my jacket pocket. Then I forgot. There is a place where the ground is like quicksand and the thought of diving in and going somewhere new made me forget. Back in class the teacher asking me very loudly, "did you pick up ANY catepillars?” “No." I will send you to the principal's office if you lie.” “No,” I say. She then stands me in front of the mirror and I have a brown jacket that moves with all these calipiters moving on it. The other kids are laughing. The principal laughed but gave me a note to be signed by my mom. He called and left a message to seal my fate.

This kind of thing will last all weekend. She will take it in shifts. Me naked holding onto the bookshelf. Her using the belt I picked out. She will finally say it's about the embarrassment I cause her. My brother never did anything like this. They don't use the word mental illness at this time. I know many three-letter words--but sex I never heard. I have had plenty with them. My mother and brother. What she does to me and him he does to me later. But after that last period I get back on the bus. I run to my seat. We start off. In that vibration I am away from me. I have no envelope in my pocket. No one is waiting for me at the bus stop. When the bus stops on the gravel. I have hope. I hope. I hope and hope I can ask to go around the gravel and let me off at the street. Where I would have a running start. Where I could get away. I hope. I hope so much all I have to do is ask. But I never do. I check the seats for money as I approach the door. Mr. Neil is staring at me in the mirror. I step off but not far. The door pushes my backpack but I don't move. He has to wait. I know it. He knows it. I take a long breath and then step ending the bus ride. Before my foot hits the ground he hits the gas. Throwing rocks at my legs. The tires are bigger than me it seems and I want to get on them as they pull away. It takes a long time for me to remember the jacket. I always remember the beatings. But the sex each night takes years and years to take the time to know why. Like the jacket there never seemed to be enough time to know why. But the legend--half silver and half brown. My legend was I ran in my car or in movement all my life with my arm out the window trying desperately to get away from me. To put out the fire that never could be stopped.