Bus kiss…..An essay by William Marshall

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I liked to sit on the hump when I would ride the bus. That is what I called the seats where the wheel well was. I always liked the passenger side best, I could see what the driver was doing. These were old school school buses. Windows going up and down with these little ratchet levers that were always hard work. The front door that opened by a big long handle that the driver would operate. Emergency door with the buzzer, in the back. It was rumored that door alarm was automatically attached to your “permanent record.”

Her name was Lisa. Her family owned the local skating rink in town. She was really cute, I remember her voice especially, she used to whisper in my ear on the bus.

We were in the sixth grade. She had a short bouncy hair cut, inquisitive eyes, easy smile with the cutest freckles.

We were on that bouncy bus, sitting on the hump. Her stop was approaching. As the bus came to a stop and the driver reached over for the door, we kissed. The angels sang, I think I blacked out and only recently woke up. It was over in little more than a second but yet it seems to play over and over in my head still to this day.

And Lisa, yes, you were right, your braces didn’t turn out to be a problem at all.

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