In this scene, after overhearing Mrs. Pinzetti and her colleague plot against Tammy, Karen maintains a positive outlook and feels sympathy for the students whose disabilities are more severe than hers.

(Image by Mohamed Hassan, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons)

Scene 7: On the Bus

Walking out to the bus, Karen saw all the shiny yellow and black buses lined up. The loading zone looked like Toy Land, where little girls and boys would come for fun. Along with the other children who could walk by themselves, Karen scurried onto her bus and took her favorite seat, one by a window on the same side as the door into the bus. Listening with half an ear to the other students’ chatter, she watched as the drivers carried the non-ambulatory kids up the bus steps and settled them into assigned seats at the front of the bus.

Kitten felt sympathy for these children. They could not help themselves as she did, despite her partial paralysis. They could not walk, even with crutches. Many could neither voice their needs nor speak intelligibly. Some wore heavy metal braces not only on their legs, but also up their entire bodies. Others wore body casts. The ones who had cerebral palsy, as she did, were far more challenged than she was. Others had muscular dystrophy or multiple sclerosis. Tammy was always the last student that Mr. Hinton brought on board. When he took her out of her wheelchair, her arms and legs began flailing, and he needed help from one of the other drivers to keep her from hurting herself. He lifted her upper torso by grasping the steel brace around her waist, while another driver lifted her feet. Because of the flailing, she was in constant danger. He put her into the seat right behind him, with her back against the side of the bus and her legs pointing toward the aisle. By adjusting the seat belt and other restraints, he made sure she would not bang her head or hands against the wall of the bus or the seat. Kitten smiled and waved, and she smiled back.

When all the students were secure in their seat belts, the buses started their engines. Mr. Hinton looked in his oversized rearview mirror and took a head count. He knew every child’s name and special needs, and he checked to be sure that all his children were in place, safe, and accounted for.

The headcount complete, he revved up his motor, looked to see if the coast were clear, and shouted, “What are we waiting for? Let’s go!” and off they motored.

On the way home, some of the children sat together and talked. Others played games like counting Volkswagens. Sometimes, Karen played. Most of the time, she just silently enjoyed looking out the window, and her time silently alone. Today, she could not stop thinking about how she had misjudged Mrs. Pinzetti and about Tammy’s fate.

As she looked at Tammy, Karen had mixed feelings. By sharing with her, she had realized that she was not alone, and she now felt less isolated. Tammy understood what her learning disability was all about, and what it was like to be labeled retarded when you were not. At the same time, overhearing Mrs. Pinzetti’s plans had frightened her. Her intuition that the experts were evil was now confirmed, and she had to deal with this reality.

One by one, the children left the bus to go home. Mr. Hinton drove block after block, turn after turn, from one end of the western part of greater Los Angeles to the other.

Karen had memorized the route to her old house, along with Mr. Hinton, when he first started as a driver. She knew who was getting off when, and at which house. Since she and Mama had moved, she was still learning the new route.

“One more block to go,” she sighed, as Mr. Hinton turned a corner and she recognized her street.

She saw Pegasus in the distance, waiting by her house. Mr. Hinton pulled close to the curb.

“There you go, Kitten! You look worried. Don’t fret, darling. Keep smiling. Don’t let whatever it is get you down. Have a nice evening, and don’t be afraid to tell your mother whatever is bothering you.”

Karen smiled and thanked Mr. Hinton. He always seemed to say the right thing.

Original text ©2022 by Karen Lynn-Chlup. All rights reserved.