Tuesday, November 19, 2013

What Happens on the Bus ... Stays on the Bus


 I was asked to repost this -- and since I spent yesterday wrapping Christmas  presents and have no new pictures, I'm happy to oblige---


 Imagining voices of the past echoing through the abandoned school bus . . . 
You sit here, Crissie, next to Tanya;  she's in Miz Roberts's first grade class too. No, I ain't gonna sit with you; I got my own friends . . .  Wonder will tomorrow be a snow day? . . .  Debbie told me Travis likes you . . .  Mack, Shane threw my shoes out the window! . . . 

We was up late last night handing baccer . . . I'm like to yawn my head off . . .It don't matter; you can sleep through Math like you always do  . . .  That ol Shane he thinks he's something, him and them fancy shoes with the little lights on them. . . Loookit them big kids in the back-- he's got his hand up her shirt . . . You uns goin to the Christmas party?. . . 

This old bus stinks . . .  That's the third time this month it broke down  . . .  Mack says he reckons some of them transplanted hippies'll buy it . . . 

Far out!  The Big Blue Dream Machine . . .There's room in here for all of us --  put some bunks back there, leave the seats up here. . . Rainbow's got a trust fund -- she'll pay for new tires and Denver and George say they can get it running again . . . Fire up that doobie . . .So, San Francisco? Mexico? Canada . . .


No, the church bought it from some of those hippies that were living up in that old chicken house on the Brynum place. Those dudes spent most of a year trying to get it running and finally gave up -- most of them had moved on anyway and the feller that held the title was happy to get shed of it.  Travis got it going with no trouble all except the heater. We're taking the youth group to Carowinds this Saturday and cold as it is, we told 'em to bring blankets so 's they don't freeze . . .

Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer . . . Donnie's mother says we hadn't ought to be singing about no beer . . . She ought to have seen Donnie last week at the campout.  . . .  Amazing grace, how sweet the sound . . . I thought Tanya was one of them took that Wait Till Marriage pledge . . . And I thought she said she'd broke up with Shane . . . Look there in the back, under that blanket . . . 
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29 comments:

Desiree said...

Priceless! No wonder you are a published author. Such an imagination. I could really hear those timelss voices wafting out of the broken windows of that rusty wreck. Superb writing!

Marilyn said...

Wonderful! I love listening into snippets of conversation on buses or trains, what you have written is so very good.

Callie said...

Oh, I can hear the -99 bottles of beer on the wall- chiming out of those windows loud and clear. Lots of stories there for sure.

Sue P said...

This is great stuff, Vicki. Evocative and a little bit eerie. Something to think on tonight.

Ms. A said...

I can imagine it sounding just like that!

Evalinn said...

Imagine! :-)

Made me think of "Into the wild" as the guy there stays in an abandoned bus at the end.

June said...

When I have thoughts along these lines, they always make me feel more than a little bit melancholy. Your "voices" don't make me feel that way. Not so much anyway...

Martin said...

Vicki, I could have continued reading this for as long as you could keep it up. Surely there's a quirky little book here?

Julienne said...

Oh what fun and so beautifully done, I could hear it all!

Tracy Golightly-Garcia said...

Hello Vicki

More please!!

Seeing the bus makes me wonder~what was it used for?

Best
Tracy :)

Brian Miller said...

nice...i too vote for i could have read on...it had a familiar feel to it from my own memories but also intrigue as well...

Vicki Lane said...

I had fun doing this late last night at the end of a busy day.

I agree, Martin, it could be a quirky little book...and I may try to improve on it.

Yes, Marilyn, I,too, am an inveterate eavesdropper.

"Handing baccer" is what used to be done when whole families worked up the cured tobacco -- the leaves were made into bunches (called hands) according to size and quality.

Since school buses start out yellow, I'm assuming this one was sold and repainted blue -- but I don't actually know its history.

Barbara Rogers, Potter said...

What a great little story to read this morning with your inspiration. Thanks, Vicki!

Wayfarin' Stranger said...

Spot on, Vicki! Except in Kentucky we said "stripping" instead of "handing," although the two are firmly joined. And kids never got to tie the hands, at least in our neighborhood. Loved hearing the kids grow up. Jim

Mama-Bug said...

This was wonderful! Cool photo! Hope you enjoyed your Thanksgiving as much as I did!

R. Burnett Baker said...

This was a thrill, Vicki! About a mile down the farm road from my grandparents's farm in the Texas Panhandle, was a patch of trees on an otherwise treeless landscape. And in those trees were two old yellow and rusting school busses. We would wander there and look at them, but never never broke through the barrier of fear to actually climb inside one. What memories!

Brenda said...

Awesome. Reminds me a bit of the stories that would start running through my head when I looked at the illustrations in the Mysteries of Harris Burdick (?) by Chris Van Allsburg. I probably butchered that title. But do you know the one? I have always been intrigued with the illustrations and the stories that they ignite in my mind. I love this post!

NCmountainwoman said...

The life of a bus. You weave a great history of this bus, now in the graveyard.

jennyfreckles said...

Brilliantly imagined. I felt like I was there listening to them.

Star said...

That bus has seen better days. I can see why it inspired you to write about it!
Very interesting.

Victoria said...

Great 'mini' read!

Darla said...

Delightful whimsy...loved how you brought it right back round to Tanya... ;-)

Kath said...

Loved it!

tipper said...

Loved it-cause I could so relate to it ALL : )

The first morning I got on the school bus I followed my big brother and sat down next to him while everybody laughed at him-and me! Thankfully-the most beautiful girl I had ever seen asked me to sit with her-she had long straight brown hair with bangs-I still remember her name Cindy Cook.

vacuum cleaner said...
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Anonymous said...

I agree with Mountainwoman, tie in a graveyard mystery and you have another book. Past and present are already interwoven. There's a gravestone in a colonial cemetery in Savannah that indicates that both wives of one husband are buried under the same elaborate angel statue marker, but the husband isn't buried in there, at least not within sight of their marker. Thanks for the great mini-story. Hope we see more of it.

Lynne in GA

Inger said...

I want to hear more about these kids.

Anonymous said...

......got my first kiss on the back seat of the church bus..can still remember that night and I was young! This is the way I like to write.....when I have time. In my documents folder are lots of snippets, one-liners to someday trigger my memory into stories for the grandkids. Better hurry, I guess - the old memory is beginning to slip a little!

Lise said...

I thoroughly enjoy your writing! I am impressed you are already wrapping Christmas presents too:)