School Bus Driver Denies Abuse Allegations
Without video evidence, it’s her word against his
My husband’s eyes narrowed into incredulous slits when I told him I was coming out of retirement.
“What? You hated driving a school bus. The kids gave you a nervous breakdown! You were a wreck when you left that job.”
“Hate is a strong word.” I jutted out my chin and sniffed. “I was menopausal and a tad hot-tempered. After decades behind the wheel, I knew when it was time to take a break.”
“You checked into a psych ward.”
“I’m not going to argue semantics with you.” My fingers fanned the air. “My mind is made up. Superintendent O’Brian told me due to COVID-19, getting children to school is harder than ever and my community needs me.” I threw my shoulders back and stuck out my chest. “Nobody can say I didn’t answer the call.”
He tilted his head. “Huh? You’ve been dodging their calls for the last three weeks. It’s because of that huge sign-on bonus they’re offering now, isn’t it? You want to take that dream trip to Hawaii after the vaccine comes out, dontcha?”
I pulled my head back and hooded my eyes. “I would never sell myself out.”
He hitched an eyebrow. “Didn’t Superintendent O’Brian bribe you with an early retirement package if you left quietly? She wanted to fire you after the incident between you and Timmy Thompson but was afraid of a scandal. She’s gotta be crying for drivers to ask you back.”
“Scandal? You really are a drama king! The superintendent didn’t know what she was doing. She was new to the job and overreacted. Timmy Thompson and I exchanged words. Big deal! He was a brat. Let it go!”
He chortled. “Those words happened to be ‘exchanged’ as you threw Timmy Thompson off the bus five miles from his house and into a snowbank on a deserted road during an arctic blast. He lost his thumb from frostbite.”
Through gritted teeth, I said, “It was twenty-some years ago! There was no video! It’s his word against mine.”
I stalked to the den and fired up my laptop. I didn’t want to be late for my Zoom meeting to go over last-minute details before school started the next day.
Her face filled the screen and I was thrilled to see she’d gained both weight and wrinkles. She always thought she was better than everyone else. Just because she was the School Superintendent, she acted like she’s the boss and could tell people what to do. As if! My route supervisor is my real boss. Years ago, in the heat of anger, I told her as much. She’s had it out for me ever since.
My husband was right. She was desperate. Many of the regular drivers were scared to go back. Plus, the social distancing rules made the job much harder than it used to be.
I leaned back and gave her an appraising once-over. Who had all the power now?
I could practically feel an exotic, fruity rum drink in my hand and picture the tanned cabana boys. Waikiki, here I come!
“Good morning, Hazel. Nice to see you again.” Her voice flat.
I raised my mug with one hand and gave her a jaunty salute with the other. “How the hell have ya been, S.O.B.?
She frowned. “Don’t call me that. It’s Superintendent O’Brian.”
I lifted my shoulders and made a silly face. “Old habits die hard.”
#
After my first day back on the job, I came home and drank one of my husband’s beers. He frowned and said, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I snapped. “Something wrong with cracking a Bud after a long day’s work?”
“Um … only when you hold it horizontal, stab it with an ice pick and shot gun it.”
I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and shrugged. If I told him how hellish it was to drive a bus in 2020 he’d make me quit. Then, I’d never get to Hawaii.
The next morning, he shuffled through the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. He eyed my mug, then gave me a pointed look.
I turned my head to hide the telltale guilt. “I felt like having cream in my coffee. So what?”
“That’s Irish crème, Hazel.”
“Don’t judge me,” I muttered, slipping in my earbuds. Don Ho crooning “Tiny Bubbles” always soothed me.
That night, after another hair-raising shift, my husband took in my haggard appearance. “You seem frazzled and worn out. This job might be too much for you.”
“It’s only been two days! You’re just saying that because you get air sick! Nowadays, they make pills you can take before you get on the plane.”
He hung his head like a beaten man.
Keeping my eye on the prize, I found a red, plastic lei and a yellow sun hat in the back of my closet. I put them on before mixing my third margarita to keep my spirits up.
My cell rang and I answered without thinking. “S.O.B! What’s up?”
“We need to talk, Hazel. Can we Zoom?”
I sighed and fondled my lei, remembering everything it represented. I said, “Sure!” and headed to the den.
She got right to the point. “Why didn’t over half the kids on your route get picked up this week?”
“There’s no room for them,” I said, indignant. “The six-foot rule. Eleven kids is all I can handle.”
“But kids from the same household can sit together.”
“How am I supposed to know who’s who? They’re all wearing masks!” I shook my head. Did I have to point out the obvious?
“And parents said you wouldn’t let them put the windows up, even though it was pouring down rain? Now they’re all going to be catching colds.”
“Better colds than COVID,” I said, starting to get bored with the conversation. “You wanted me to keep them safe, I’m keeping them safe.” I sounded confident and matter-of-fact.
“One of the parents is demanding we terminate your employment and is threatening a lawsuit. Do you mind if he joins the conversation?”
“Of course not. I have nothing to hide.” I crossed my arms and waited for the third party.
I gasped. It was a much older Timmy Thompson.
“Remember me?” he sneered.
Stunned speechless, I gave him a stilted smile and two thumbs up. Then I remembered he only had nine digits and probably thought I was showing off. Oops!
He showed me his middle finger.
“Mr. Thompson said you assaulted his daughter Tammy on the way home today.”
Outraged, I shouted, “That’s a dirty lie! I would never hurt a child.” Tammy is Timmy’s daughter? No wonder she’s such a little shit! I took a drink out of my tumbler to buy myself a few seconds. “I was trying to protect her and all the other kids. She refused to put on her mask. She said she wasn’t going to be a $#@*ing sheep. So, I made her. It was for her own good.”
The S.O.B. massaged her temples. “Duct tape shouldn’t ever be used as a mask, Hazel.”
I felt my dream vacation slip away like sand through my fingers.
Minutes later, close to hysteria, I told my husband what happened.
With a fearful expression, he bit his lip. “What’d you say?”
I ripped the plastic necklace off and threw it across the room. “I told them both to get lei-ed … except I said it like we do on the mainland.”
Want more of Tracy’s satire? Look no further:
