121 Express (7 page)
Everyone was laughing, especially Georgie.
I tried not to laugh, but it was hard.
“Hey, Georgie, you should be a science teacher!” Kelly called out.
Georgie was laughing so hard that he started to cough. He covered his mouth and tried taking a few breaths, but the coughing wouldn't stop.
“Hey, raghead!” Jake called out. “Have you got a paper bag we can borrow?”
That made everyone laugh all over again.
When I turned to look at Sandeep, I expected him to be hiding behind his book, but he wasn't. He was watching Georgie.
Georgie's cheeks were apple red. When he started to wheeze, Sandeep sprang up from his seat and pushed his way over to the back of the bus.
“Open the windows!” he shouted.
Maybe because no one was used to seeing Sandeep like thisârushing around and telling other people what to doâthey opened the windows.
“His lips are turning blue!” Kelly sounded as if she was about to cry.
Sandeep was hunched over Georgie. “I think his bronchial tubes are blocked with mucus. Here,” he said, reaching behind Georgie's back, “try to sit up straight.”
Then Sandeep lifted his head. “Has anyone here got a puffer?” he shouted.
“Don't you know you're not supposed to share medications?” Jewel said.
You'd think that with fifty kids on the
121 Express, someone would have asthma medication. But no one did. I bit my lip.
“Georgie doesn't have asthma,” Kelly told Sandeep.
“I'm pretty sure he does. And it's getting worse.”
Georgie was having trouble sitting up, and when he tried to say something, he nearly gagged.
“What do we do?” Kelly shouted.
“Lucas,” Sandeep said, “talk to the bus driver. Tell him he's got to take us to the hospitalânow!”
I bolted over to the driver. “You have to take us to the hospital. This guy at the back's having an asthma attack,” I told him.
“This is another one of your games, right?” the driver muttered.
“This isn't a game. It's an emergency. And you've got to help us. Please.”
When the driver took his first left instead of driving straight along Côte-Vertu Boulevard, I made a loud sigh. I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath.
Georgie was back at school. The only problem was Mrs. Papadopoulos. She kept phoning to make sure he hadn't lost his puffer.
Things on the bus had changed since Georgie's asthma attack. Sure, there was still singing and screaming and fighting. Pierre sneezed into his hand and wiped it right on the pole next to him. “That is so disgusting!” Jewel Chu called out.
For once, Jake agreed with Jewel. “Haven't you ever heard of this invention called Kleenex?” he asked Pierre.
The main change on the bus was we weren't so divided up anymore. Like right now, Georgie was standing at the front, telling Sandeep he thought our presentation on Rosa Parks was pretty cool.
I was sitting near the middle of the bus. I could have sat with the guys at the backâwe were on speaking terms againâbut Valerie had saved a spot for me. I liked sitting next to her, and besides, these days the middle of the bus felt like the right place for me. I had friends up frontâand in the back.
Even the new bus driver was getting a little friendlier. We had been through a lot together. He'd risked getting in trouble with his supervisor to get Georgie to the hospital, and once we got there, he'd helped carry Georgie into the emergency room. We had all been pretty scared when Georgie's fingernails started turning blue.
The driver had told us his name was Thomas. It's funny how things feel different
once you know someone's name. I'd asked him the name of the old driver too, the one we'd driven over the edge. Thomas told me it was Gilbert Dubuc. He also told me how Gilbert Dubuc had spent a couple of weeks in a convalescent home, but that he was back at work, driving another bus. “Not the 121 Express, of course. The supervisor doesn't want him cracking up again. Anyway, it's good news for us drivers,” Thomas had said. “Dubuc says by spring, he should be strong enough to get back to his work with the union. He's quite a guy, that Dubuc.”
Old Quack Quack was back on the bus too. Only this time, he hadn't come to scold us. No, today he was smiling like the Cheshire cat in
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
.
He nodded at Georgie. “I hope you have your puffer,” he said. Mrs. Papadopoulos must have spoken to him too.
I didn't think much of it when Old Quack Quack nodded at Pierre next. It was only when Valerie raised her eyebrows that
I started wondering. Pierre wasn't exactly a star pupil.
“Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” Valerie whispered.
“I guess it's possible,” I told Valerie. “Maybe Pierre struck some kind of deal with Old Quack Quack. Like maybe Old Quack Quack didn't phone home after Pierre blew Mr. Adams's last math quiz.”
“We should tell the others,” Valerie said. “Remember how everyone was accusing everyone else? A lot of feelings got hurt.”
I decided not to tell her I'd thought she might have been the snitch.
Pierre had been the one to accuse me of being the snitch. Now I understood why.
“So let's tell,” Valerie said.
“Nah,” I said. “All that's behind us now.”
Old Quack Quack cleared his throat so loudly and for so long it sounded like he was gargling. “I want to say that I'mâerâ” He stopped to flatten the knot on his tie. You could tell he was more used to scolding kids than saying anything nice. “I'mâerâ
proud of you people. I never thought I'd say it, but there you go. You people stayed calm in a difficult situation. And that calmness, that composure, probably saved this young man's life. I also want to express my gratitude to your driver.” He turned to shake Thomas's hand. “You did the right thing,” Old Quack Quack told him, “by getting Georgie straight to the hospital.”
And then, Old Quack Quack did something we never would have expected. He clappedâfor us. And everyone on the bus started clapping too.
The clapping was followed by cheering. Then Old Quack Quack rushed off the bus.
“Calm and composed! That's us, all right!” Jake shouted as Thomas turned onto Côte-Vertu Boulevard.
Everyone was talking and laughing all at the same time.
When we stopped at the first intersection, I almost didn't notice the bus that had pulled up across from ours. But somethingâdon't ask me whatâmade me turn to look at it.
I recognized the driver's thin gray hair and the way he gripped the steering wheel. It was our old driver, Gilbert Dubuc.
At first, I was too startled to say anything. But Valerie noticed him too. “Hey, you guys!” she shouted, “look who's driving that bus!”
In the old days, someone would have pushed open a window and yelled something rudeâor maybe thrown something at him.
But this wasn't the old days. I was the first to wave. Next thing I knew the other kids were waving too.
I thought I saw Gilbert Dubuc shudder. Was he remembering all the trouble we'd caused him?
But then he did something that took me by surprise. Something that made me wonder if he'd heard about how the kids on the 121 Express had helped save Georgie.
He waved back.
The Hot Dog Haven
4200 côte-Vertu Blvd.
Ville St. Laurent, Quebec
November 6, 2007
Lorne Crest Academy
4243 Decelles ave.
Ville St. Laurent, Quebec
Att.: John Mallard, Principal
Dear Mr. Mallard:
I am writing this letter to you out of desperation. My husband and I recently opened The Hot Dog Haven, a small restaurant behind Lorne crest academy. at first, we thought being located so close to a school would help our business. But now, we're not so sure. Yes, your students have been buying lunch at our restaurant. But that, dear Mr. Mallard, is not all they've been doing!
They have also been teasing our waiters and waitresses, throwing food, emptying
the salt and pepper shakers into their water glasses. we have even overheard them discussing strange science experiments, and frankly, we're worried they might blow the place up!
At The Hot Dog Haven, we pride ourselves on serving the best hot dogs in all Montreal. we believe eating at our restaurant is a privilege. Please make it clear to your students that if their behavior does not improve, we shall be forced to shut our doors to them.
Sincerely yours,
Marie Therrien,
co-proprietor,
The Hot Dog Haven
Monique Polak claims that she never got in trouble as a child, but any reader of
121 Express
will know that she secretly wanted to. Monique divides her time writing and teaching. She lives in Montreal, Quebec, with her husband and daughter.