Back in the 70’s our local bus company finally got radios on their buses which meant that when they had a problem they could actually call it in from their bus instead of hoping there was a pay phone nearby ( and around here there was like three and none of them were on a bus route ) that they could use or they would have to stop at somebody’s house, knock on the door and and ask to use the phone.

It’s true, sometimes you’d be walking home from school or coming home from work and there would be be a bus parked in front of your house and when you went in there was a bus driver using your phone.

So, back to the story.

Shortly after the buses get radios my third grade class ( I was about 10 at the time) went on a field trip to the beach.

We all had to drop in ten cents and because this wasn’t a school bus it was like five minutes before me and my friend had our magic markers out and we were drawing on the backs of the seats in front of us.

It was great- my specialty in those days was this little dog with a pitchfork tail and three eyes- I drew that thing every chance I had.

So anyway, the beach- this Park Ranger told us all about tide pools and the little animals that lived in them and how much trouble you could get into if you hurt those creatures or the plants.

He looked right at me and my friend the entire time he talked and if you want to know the truth I was starting to feel a little defensive- which moved straight into outright defiance.

At the end of the day all I had in my hands was my beach workbook and my return fare and no magic markers because me and my friend had to toss them out the windows as we drove down the street when the Driver kept asking,

” Do you kids smell that? “

None the less, some of us were prepared in more then one way for the trip home.

 My seat mate and fellow artist was a kid named Darrin (yes, the infamous Darrin to you regular visitors to my Bones) drops his fare, plus about three little baby crabs into the slot where the change goes and when the bus driver sees them crawling around in there she is not happy.

She can’t get them out, she told Darrin and me ( I was standing behind him and because I was laughing I’m guessing she thought I was in on this stunt ) because the fare box is locked and when she goes to hit the counter the baby crabs are going to get crushed when they get dropped down in the money holder.

” You’re a jerk.” I tell Darrin and when he turns around to argue with me the Driver tells everyone to get on the bus, not to put any money into the farebox and to wait.

Quietly.

Oh Brother.

Our teacher made us sit with him, which was never a pleasant experience because whenever Darrin and I got into trouble he’d tell us how we were making Jesus sad.

Oh big deal.

A sad Jesus…me and Darrin were Catholics- threats of a sad baby Jesus or a Jesus crying in heaven was lost on us.

Without a Priest or an angry Nun around to back him up our teacher was pretty unimpressive in the religious intimidation department.

However.

What acutally made the situation feel worse was that we had to sit up front on a bench seat with the teacher….and we were right behind the driver so we could see her nodding and agreeing with our teacher everytime he informed me Darrin in this soft reassuring voice that were going to wind up in Hell telling the Devil about how we tortured small animals.

Instead of being in Heaven with everyone else feeding straw to lions.

I’m not kidding here.

Then the driver flips some switches and says into her receiver, ” Dispatch, I have crabs in my box what should I do?”

And we hear a voice say, ” We didn’t get these radios so you could tell everyone about your personal problems.”

They made me and Darrin walk home.