Saturday, June 03, 2006

Bottled Tale

Once upon a time, many years ago there was a young school teacher fresh out of college. Her first job didn't pay very much, but she was filled with enthusiasm, and having the time of her life in her very own classroom. One day the school bus driver stopped by her room with a problem. He had to go to a funeral the next day and there was no one available to make the after school run in his place. The young teacher jumped at the opportunity, especially when he offered to pay her his share for the run. When lunch time came, they went to the parking lot for a little driving practice. "There is only one thing you must be very mindful of" he said, "and that is the brakes. They are extremely sensitive, you need only flex your big toe to bring the bus to a full stop."
She nodded diligently, and once moving found this advice to be true-the slightest depression of the pedal was sufficient.

All afternoon she looked forward to her new role as bus driver, even incorporating the adventure into her lesson plan. She spread out the route map on a table in the front of the room, and showed each of the children how to trace the path from school to their bus stop. Ten minutes after the closing bell, the bus was loaded and they were off. It was a sunny, spring day, and she broke into a familiar song as they drove along, 'till one by one the whole bus filled with happy young voices. This was a farming community, and the rich brown earth of the newly plowed fields stretched in an endless vista on either side of the road.

Had not fate interceded, this would have been an idyllic tale, sweet in its simplicity. Alas, the fully loaded manure spreader, which was following much to close, and the frolicking goats awash with their new-found freedom, having just jumped their enclosure, all conspired to tweak destiny. The goats burst out onto the road from the tall grass along the ditch, and no one would later blame her memory lapse as she trod down hard upon the brake pedal. The two little kids in the back seat ended clear up in the front of the bus, a little dazed but unhurt. This was a good thing in more ways than one considering the abrupt kiss between the manure truck and the back of the bus. That whole load of manure rose up like a levitated body and deposited itself perfectly on top of the bus...except of course that which anointed the occupants through the open windows.

So that is my tale, save for the consequences which shall be left to the reader's imagination.


At 9:46 PM, Blogger Lorijayne said...

I love it!

At 2:52 AM, Blogger faucon of Sakin'el said...

No if buses transporting our politicians ...


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