The Wrong Bus (2 page)
“I have to catch the bus home with you,” Jack said.
“Cool. How about you sit beside me this time?”
Instead of taking the bus home with Katy, Jack would rather have his grandpa meet him. When Grandpa Nod picked him up, he always checked if Jack had eaten his sandwich, apple and carrot sticks. Then he ate whatever was left as they headed to the park, the bird sanctuary or the river to watch the tugboats.
Sometimes they took the bus. Grandpa had a bus pass, so he could get on for free. He knew all the drivers. When Jack was with him, the drivers let Jack on the bus for free too.
But usually they walked. And Grandpa Nod would sing.
Jack walked into class. “Glad to see you back,” said Mr. Haworth.
“Jack's grandpa died,” Katy helpfully told everyone.
Jack went to his desk. He put his lunchbox inside it and waited for roll call.
After school Katy said, “I just remembered. I have to stay and practice for the concert.”
“You should have told me,” Jack said. “Mom says eight-year-olds are too young to ride the bus alone.”
“You won't be alone, silly. It will be full of people. It always is after school.”
Jack waited and waited for the Number 26 bus. The Number 13 passed. Then the Number 17.
Maybe he could walk, he thought. His grandpa often walked him home from school. Jack knew the way.
There was no number on the next bus. Jack stepped back. He expected it to pass by, headed for the depot. But it stopped in front of him.
The doors wheezed open.
The sun shone in Jack's face. He couldn't see the driver.
“Hop on, son,” a voice said.
“This is the wrong bus,” Jack said. “I need the Number 26.”
“This will do. Hop on, Jawbreaker.”
Jawbreaker! Jack raced up the stairs. “Grandpa!”
The doors wheezed shut behind him.
“Who else?”
“Mom said you died.”
“I did. But here I am. What a lark!”
Jack didn't know what to do. His grandpa had got sick. He was checked into the hospital. The hospital that was no place for an eight-year-old. So Jack hadn't been able to visit him. Then his grandpa died. His body went to the funeral home. The funeral home that was no place for an eight-year-old. Then Jack's mom left him at home while she went to the cemetery. The cemetery that was also no place for an eight-year-old.
But here was Grandpa Nod!
“You'd better sit down,” his grandpa said. “You look a bit shaky. And we're in for a heck of a ride.”
“Where are we going?” asked Jack.
“Here, there and everywhere in between. A Magical Mystery Tour.”
Jack grinned. It was just the kind of thing his grandpa always said. “Where are the other passengers?” he asked.
“They can get the next bus.” Grandpa Nod chuckled. “As you said, this is the wrong bus. For everyone but the two of us.” He put the bus in gear. “Sit down. It's time to make a break for it.”
Jack sat on the long seat. He could watch his grandpa from there. He wrapped his hands tight around the silver pole.
The bus went through the intersection instead of turning right. “You're going the wrong way,” Jack said.
“It's the wrong bus. Of course it's going the wrong way. Did you eat your lunch? ” Grandpa asked.
“I wasn't hungry.”
“Good-oh!” said Grandpa. “All the more for me.”
Grandpa Nod drove the bus past the park. He turned onto a side street.
“You're going the wrong way,” Jack said. “The sign says
One Way Only
.”
“My bus doesn't care about signs,” said Grandpa.
He stopped beside a very tall building.
Emergency Department
was written across the big windows. “It says
No Parking
,” said Jack. “Why are we here?”
Grandpa turned the engine off. He stood up. “Come on, Tic Tac. Let's go walkabout.”
Jack held his grandfather's hand. It was cool as a breeze and light as a feather.
They left the bus on the yellow line and walked through the doors into the hospital.
The hall was long and narrow. People in white coats hurried in both directions.
Jack waited beside his grandfather in front of an elevator. “It says
Staff Only
,” said Jack.
“It makes no nevermind to us,” said Grandpa. The doors opened. Grandpa Nod winked at the lady on the gurney. Jack smiled at the porter holding an
IV
pole. But no one smiled back.
“Hit the button. We want the fifth floor,” said Grandpa.
When they arrived, Jack and his grandfather waited until the gurney was rolled out. Jack didn't feel a thing as the wheels rolled over his feet. His grandfather didn't flinch when the porter bumped into him. “This-a-way,” said Grandpa. They walked down another long hallway. It was lined with trolleys, bins and medical equipment.
Grandpa pushed open the swinging doors that said
No Entry
. He led Jack past racks of blankets and carts loaded with bottles and basins. Everyone was too busy to notice them.
They stopped at Room 148.
Grandpa peered through a glass window in the middle of the door. He pushed the door open and stepped aside. “After you,” he said to Jack.
The ward was dark and quiet. A door to the bathroom was open. But no one was inside.
One bed was empty and covered by a flat white sheet. The curtains were closed around the other bed. When Grandpa slid them open, the hooks rattled.
A man lay in the bed with his eyes closed. A blanket was pulled up to his neck.
“This was my bed,” said Grandpa. Jack stared at the man. He looked at his grandfather.
“When your ma visited, I was a scary sight,” said Grandpa. “Hooked up to all kinds of gizmos. Bells and whistles. Tubes here and there.”
Jack held Grandpa Nod's hand. “Did it hurt?” he asked.
“A bit. Nothing I couldn't bear.” Grandpa grinned. “The nurses were mighty nice,” he said. A big man in a white jacket came into the room. A stethoscope hung around his neck. He twiddled with the machine above the sleeping patient's bed and went out again. “Even the big ugly ones like Ralph,” said Grandpa.
“Who's Ralph?” asked Jack.
“That was Ralph,” said Grandpa.
“Why did you die?” asked Jack. “Couldn't they fix you?”
“Too many bits were all worn out. Any minute they would start falling off.” Grandpa patted the corner of the empty bed. “They did what they could. And I am much better now.”
Jack looked across at the sleeping man. Maybe he had a grandson too. Maybe one who was younger than eight but was allowed to come and visit.
Jack walked around the room. He checked out the cards on the bedside table. He sniffed the limp flowers in the jug.
He stood over the man and watched him sleep.
Footsteps passed in the hall. Voices rose and fell. No one came in.
Grandpa Nod stood at the end of the man's bed, waiting for Jack to finish checking things out.
When Jack had finished his tour of the room, Grandpa Nod asked, “Seen enough?”
“Yes,” said Jack. He took his grandfather's hand. It was cool and soft.
They walked back to the elevators. A nurse hurried toward them. Jack stepped aside so she wouldn't run into him. She walked past and kept going as if they weren't there.
They boarded the public elevator. A man studied a clipboard. A lady in a terry-towel housecoat and flip-flop slippers rode down with them. No one said a word.
Back at the bus, Jack checked the windshield. No parking ticket. “Don't you have to get back to your route?” he asked Grandpa.
“Not us. Places to go. People to see,” he said. He drove through the intersection without stopping at the Stop sign.
