Janaicarunnings Serial: The Girl from the Lane

The Girl from the lane- Installment #7

Sheila had moved down the aisle in the Isuzu bus on the instruction of the conductor in order for the already overcrowded bus to accommodate one or two additional “full-fare” passengers.
Most of the buses that plied the route were owned by private operators. The owners simply engaged the services of a driver, who in turn engaged a conductor to handle the collection of fares. The bus owner would generally obtain the necessary permit which allowed them to ply the route without regular interference from the police. It was generally felt that more than a third of the buses in the system were owned by policemen and these owners did not take kindly to interlopers on their turf. Seizure of buses by the police was a daily event, often leaving the innocent passengers stranded in the middle of nowhere, at the risk of job or pay loss for lateness. The “schoolers” as the children were termed suffered the most as the fares they paid was not attractive to the operators.
The general operating principle was that the owners demanded Ja.$3,500.00 or thereabouts from the drivers each day. In an effort to realize this daily target, the drivers broke every rule of the road competing for “full-fare” passengers. Once they made their quota, they then drove to pay themselves.
Accidents were a common feature of the operation of this bus system, and the Road Traffic authorities’ attributed this to the large number of drivers in the system who could not read nor write. Anyone who could pay the requisite fees to the contacts in the system could purchase a driver’s license.

As Sheila settled in a good standing space, she secured her children by ensuring that they each hugged on to either of her legs. The bus sped along the causeway, its’ loud profanity laced music blaring from the multiple speakers that dotted the roof of the bus. Were it not a Friday morning, it could have easily been taken that the bus was on an excursion to the country what with the chanting along of the other “schoolers” in the bus. They knew the lyrics by heart and were especially intoxicated by the lewd “chorus.”
The bus tilted almost thirty degrees on its’ left side as it made the right turn on to the main Causeway Road to the delight of the conductor and the youthful passengers on board.
“Non-stop to town now driver” the conductor shouted.
Sheila could smell the stale smell of beer on his breath. His open shirt exposed an undershirt that reeked of stale perspiration from several days wear. It was obvious that be had not been close to water nor a bar of soap in the last 24 hours.
The bus roared along on the right side of the road overtaking the snaking line of slow-moving vehicles who were obliged to follow the road rules. On-coming vehicles simply careened onto the soft shoulder to avoid a collision. Most of these buses had little or no insurance. The main company that insured these vehicles had a claims list over three years long as they hardly paid a claim.

The driver’s hand seemed to have been glued to the wire that operated the air horn. From some fifty metres away from the bridge he had been blaring the horn. The bus mounted the bridge followed by the loud thudding as if the landing gear had retracted as the bus soared into flight. Sheila was caught in the backward surge of bodies and both children flew away. Then she started falling. She was about to hit the ground when she shot up. The darkness was so thick, but not thick enough for the light as her room sprang from the darkness.
“Mommy, mommy…” It was Latoya. She had heard the screams of her mother and rushed into the room turning on the lights as she came in.
Sheila looked about in bewilderment. As Latoya wrapped her arms around her she sprang from the bed with the child in her arm and raced into the room where the children slept.
Newton was fast asleep, in a puddle. He had wet the bed, but he was there. They were still here. She had been dreaming about the accident.


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