Schoolbus memories

[name]

Hier een verhaaltje dat ik een jaar geleden schreef over mijn ervaringen als klein meisje, wonende in Engeland. Misschien kinderlijk, maar ach, ik was zeven. Enjoy!


As a little girl I stepped into the big white bus. On the side it said 'Calacoach'. I didn't know people in England named their buses, but it was when I moved back to Amersfoort I discovered it said 'Call a coach'. Underneath my streetsign there was also an extra name, something that said 'calle-de-cut'. I still haven't found out what that meant.
I got onto the bus and looked around. 10 Eyes stared at me, and I glanzed at the coach. He had the most wonderful smile, and told me his name was Eddie. He said I could sit next to him, because it was my first ride to school. I looked at his hand and saw a weddingring. He seemed such a sweet person, maybe 'Calacoach' was his wife's name.
I actually expected a big yellow bus, the one's you see on television. But this wasn't America, I wasn't going to a large grade school. There were only thirteen children on the bus and I was one of them.
We drove through teeny tiny places, over hills, through woods. That made bus look much bigger. After an hour drive we stopped. I saw another sign that said 'Prins Willem Alexander School'. This time no extra line underneath I didn't understand.

The next day I had to sit somewhere else. So I picked a seat somewhere in the back, thinking I would be quite safe. But I forgot we had to pick up seven more kids from around the neighbourhood. These kids were much older, and when they stepped in they walked to the back, and looked at me as if I were crazy. 'This is where we usually sit!' I jumped up to go sit next to Eddie again, but he shouted from the front they had to be nice and shut up. So I sat next to them.
After a while they started to ask me questions. One of the girls wore glases, was rather chubby and had some sort of anger in her eyes. 'Do you believe in god?' I started to panic. Why on earth would she ask me that, of all questions?! Why is she even talking to me? Knowing that I should be honest, I answered no. Her eyes now became amazed and again, full of anger. 'Oh but I do believe Jesus existed!' I said to calm her down. Too bad, that didn't work. I will never sit at the back of the bus again.

I didn't like the bus. First of all, I was álways too late. We drove through all those little places, to avoid the traffic jam on the M25, but we always ended up in our own teeny tiny traffic jams. When I asked Eddie to go over the motorway, we did. And guess what, we were on time at school.
It was half past four when I came home. This way I could almost never play with friends after school, nor see something nice on tv. I háted that. During the weekends I could also never meet friends, because I lived too far away, and most of the children weren't allowed to meet on Sundays. Why was that? In Amersfoort I always played on Sundays, allday long! From twelve 'o clock, when Esther came back from church. In England people must have church allday?

The girl that believed in God kept me away from the rest of the children. So I sat alone. I kept myself entertained with Capital FM, Eddie and the scenery outside. I started to know the entire way to school by heart.
Until one day a boy came sitting next to me. He was very friendly and said the girl, whose name was Mariette, was just testing me that day. That she didn't have many friends and became so pissed off by that. We talked during the entire ride, and he introduced me to some other children.
From that moment on my mum didn't have to drag me to the bus every morning, which she liked. Now she didn't have to be all dressed up at eight in the morning.

I didn't mind being late all the time anymore. Eddie always made it up to us, giving us lollies. Everyday on the way back to Cobham someone would ask him if he brought us candy, or he would tell us over the microphone with a defiant voice he brought us all a little present. I loved him for being so nice. I guess he thought I was pretty special too; one day, when I was walking down the stairs of the bus, stepping outside, he put an extra sweet in my hand and winked at me. Late at night I couldn't sleep, this time because my belly felt like butterflies.

But a few weeks later Eddie was gone. I wanted to give him a goodmorning hug, but in his driver's seat sat another man. He looked like a huge dwarf or something, he scared me. He said his name was George, and I ran to the back. Everyone around me was quiet, no-one dared to say anything; there was a sad ambiance. Until Mariette jumped up and shouted 'Where is Eddie?!' The guy named George put on the microphone and said Eddie was seriously ill. I cried all night. When I woke up my mum was all dressed up again, maybe she thought the girl was picking on me again. But she got out and sent flowers to Eddie.

I never saw him again. We taught George he had to buy us lollies, sing with us and buy himself a tape with Lion King songs for in the bus. And so he did. One day I sat next to him, having to tell him the way to school, which I knew by heart. (He learned it really fast, maybe he got annoyed of me saying 'go straight ahead!' so much) As we were talking he told me he could do a little trick; a few seconds later he pulled all of his teeth out! I was shócked! What remained where two big pins in his jaw, which kept his dentures into place. I was the first one who saw this act; Mariette ignored me for two weeks.

I don't remember my last trip on the bus, I think I still would if Eddie was around. His birthday is still on our calendar in the bathroom, it's Sunday. Maybe I should send him a card, but whereto?