The Seven Rivers

CHAPTER 20 SUICIDE The DJ played Karen Carpenter’s recording of “Rainy Days and Mondays”. When Sherry heard the lyrics “always get me down”, it made her sad. For the tenth time that week it was in the rotation on the play list for Friday. The soul station was only played twice a year and to Sherry didn’t seem much like a tradeoff, first time on the death of Dr. King, the second at Christmas break. The domination of Caucasians surrounded her and when James Brown’s, “Say it loud I’m black and I’m proud,” echoed through the speakers, their faces burned with anger. She was embarrassed for them. Another unwanted guilt placed on her young shoulders. Although everyone did seem to enjoy Sugar Hills Rappers Delight. At times, having to live close to Riversades, dying didn’t appear to be a bad option, she pondered as the breeze from the trees whisked by. She stared out the window, calm, waiting for James’ count to jump to one side. The whispers throughout the day passed like telephone in the ears of the students who were to ride home on bus 397, heading out from Centennial High. Mr. Rambler was the substitute driver for the day. His wife rarely took days off, however, when she did, the bus was full off wads of paper tossed, gum stuck under seats, and kids scattered about replicating a mobile party. James jumped aboard, skipping the steps; it was again cool stride Friday. “Are you ready?” he whispered to everyone he passed as he strolled the aisle heading toward the back seat. Which is where the cool kids sat. After dropping off kids living in Captains Landing and the few along route 178, the shiny bus wheeled onto Waterloo Road at top speed. “Yeah,” said Sherry. He was giving them a ride today. She loved it when Ole’ Rambler was driving. He was quiet and didn’t tell stupid stories and lecture to them; he was opposite of his wife. The bus popped over the first hill, then the second, and Sherry had butterflies and wasn’t sure if she would go along. After all, if she died today who would come to say goodbye? Most of her friends would be on the bus, injured or passed away. What would her parents do? Oh well she thought it would be one less mouth to feed. What about Lawrence? She was supposed to be looking out for him. He seemed down a lot and when she asked him about the plan to tip the bus over, he was automatically in. She figured he was capable of making his own decision instead of always being told what to do. “Are you sure, Lawrence?” she pleaded. “If you don’t want to then we will stay after school and miss the bus on purpose.” “No, I’m in,” he said. She never asked why he was in and didn’t want to know if he was in her kind of pain as well. The thought broke her heart. That he, too, could be suffering from their dad’s tough idea of raising children. The chatter on the bus turned to complete silence. Mr. Rambler looked into his visor mirror and saw everyone sitting in their seats and a wave of suspicion came over him. He was shocked for a second, then thought, perhaps they finally were giving him some respect for him not being too hard on them. He cleared his throat. “Well then, it’s about damn time,“ he whispered. The yellow locomotive powered up the hill, going ten miles per hour over the speed limit and elevated down the steep grade, toward the snake of the road at top speed. As it hit the first sharp left curve, “NOW!” yelled James and the word echoed in Sherry’s head in slow motion. Suddenly all of the kids from the left side of the bus leaped to the right. The bus skidded and the front right tire went off the road. The yellow object appeared to fly through the air, leaning to one side, and Sherry’s life flashed before her eyes. Instantly, she felt living in her house was bearable and going home wasn’t such a bad idea. She wanted to live and find out what she would be when she grew up. She took one last look at her brother with his eyes shut clutching his books and new straightaway she had made a stupid and huge mistake. “What the f—” slipped Rambler, and with everything in him he held the wheel to a hard, steady left, trying to bring his front tire back down to touch the asphalt. His face flushed with anger and he said not a word. Pencils, pens, books, calculators, gym clothing and other debris slid under the seats to the other side of the aisle. He shifted the bus through it into a lower gear and pump the brakes as he completed the elevation. He finished his stops at a snail’s pace, making all of the children fifteen minutes late from their normal arrival. With each stop, the kids recouped and traded their belongings, making the trip seem longer. Next day there was hell to pay. Ole Lady Rambler waited until everyone was on the bus and then pulled it over into Waterloo’s mini mart parking lot. She walked the aisle with one hand on her hip. “Do you know you all could have gotten killed yesterday? I’m so disappointed in you.” Her strong cheap Emerald perfume made Sherry want to gag and she felt breakfast about to come up. She turned away and breathed in the air of the window that never went up and was grateful that it didn’t. Sherry watched as buses 244 and 168 drove past and kids pointed, made goofy faces and laughed in their direction. Usually if you witnessed a bus pulled over before school, it was broken down or someone had acted up enough for the driver to get stationed and scold them. The kids looked into the air, oblivious to her words. She flopped back into the driver’s seat. “By the end of the day I’ll have some names and if you want to save me some time and don’t want ride on this bus anymore just let me know.” The air from the brakes was the last sound from the atmosphere of the bus heard until the locomotive pulled into the circular drive. Sherry could wait to get off. She waited as the line moved slowly, and she held her breath, hoping Ole Lady Ramble didn’t try to pin it on the blacks. No such luck. In a loud voice she threatened, “I better not find out you had anything to do with this. I know your mother. She is a good person. She’d be very upset if she had to drive you to school. Bitch! thought Sherry. She stood away from the bus and waited for Kara, who of course the driver thought could do no wrong, saying absolutely nothing to her. Kara tossed her long blonde hair off to one side and smirked at Sherry. “Boy does she have it in for you, but pay her no mind she is full of hot air. Nothing will happen to you.” “Well it shouldn’t. It wasn’t my idea.” Sherry had a bad feeling every time Kara professed that she wouldn’t get in trouble and somehow she always did. But, Kara didn’t.