The Wheels on the Bus

So for this exercise we were given a card with a person, another with a place, and then later a postcard with a work of art on it and somehow put them together in a short story.  I got Bus Driver, Hospital, and a painting by Theo van Utrecht of four black boxes, as shown to the right.
Don't ask me how I got the story I did, I honestly couldn't tell you, but what came of those three things was The Wheels on the Bus, enjoy.


The wheels on the bus go round and round.  He hated that song. Someone was humming that song as they left his bus.  He hated that song.  If it wasn’t an extreme amount of effort to get up from his seat he may have gone ahead and strangled whoever it was.  But his back was bad, and he had gotten

into a position where it only twigged every once and a while, and his knees stuck and it was normally a long and painful process at the end of his night.  Reggie had been a CTA bus driver for the city of Chicago for 35 years.  He was drafted into the Vietnam War at the age of 19 in 1969.  At first he felt honored, a black man serving his country. He was young and stupid and thought he was doing something great.  He was very wrong. He saw things and did things in that war he never wanted to remember for the rest of his life.  He was only 25 but he had seen enough war for a lifetime.  The injures he suffered and lack of a college degree made it very difficult to find any sort of job.  It was his uncle that had taken pity on him and got him a job with the CTA.  He had always said it wasn’t where he would end up but here he was almost 40 years later close to retirement. Here he was he thought, alone, old, and grumpy.  What a life to live, if you could call the routine of motion he put himself through each day a life.  It was about 11:30 on a Sunday night and his bus was empty until he made a stop on Madison and Pulaski.  A mousy sort of girl with a large bag got on.  She looked small and too pale in the bus lights.

“Um, I’m sorry where do I…”

He looked at her, was she slow? He was about to open up his mouth and ask that very question when he caught a glimpse of her face.  It was bruised and cut old healing with new ones overlapping.  He just pointed to the little dispensary where she put in the two fifty.  She quietly apologized and shuffled to her seat.

Before Reggie could shut the door though a man came barreling though.  He was a monster of a man.  A t-shirt and jeans covered in oil and other kinds of grim, his hands clenched in fists, “Ann!” he shouted, “Ann you get off this bus right this god damn second don’t make me come get you.”

Reggie heard the woman whimper and start to cry, “Sir if you’re going to be ridin’ this transit you must pay-“

“Shut up ya geezer, I’m not gonna be ridin’ this transit, I’m getting my woman.”  He then he ran to where the small girl was sitting.  He went right up to her and grabbed her by the hair and proceeded to try and drag her out of the bus.  When she began to struggle against his grip he brought out the knife.

Reggie felt even muscle in his body come alive, muscles he didn’t even use anymore.  The sound of blood rushing in his ears drowned out any other sound and with a speed and precision he didn’t even think he was capable of he reached the man and wrapped and arm around his neck.  Reggie held on.  The man let go of the girl’s hair; he hoped she had enough sense to call 911 now. The man’s arms began to flail and hit, but Reggie had the blind strength and firstly tightened his grip. He swung the man and his head collided with a metal pole.  The large body went limp in his arms and he let go.  His chest heaved; he hadn’t felt that alive in years. For some reason there was blood, it was all over his side and dripping onto the floor.  He looked to the girl to see if she was injured but she was on the phone.

“Please, we’re at the 213 stop on Madison and Pulaski.  Please hurry a man has been stabbed.”

Reggie was confused he didn’t stab the man?  He looked down and his side.  While he was trying to incapacitate the man he must have cut him with the knife, and badly. That was funny, he thought, he didn’t feel anything. Reggie fell to his knees feeling lightheaded. Soon his face was on the bus floor, he didn’t remember lying down.  He began to shake, he felt cold. The last thing he remembered hearing was the girl’s voice, “Please hurry, he just saved my life.”

Reggie smiled.