Page 97 - Musings 2022

The Bus Back Home
Amey Gupta
2019A8PS0429P

“Who’s he waiting for?” shouted a passenger pointing at the bus driver.

“Move it, Terry, it’s already six minutes past five” shouted the football coach from the local
school. “The game starts at seven, I need to be at the pub by then.” he said looking at his watch.

Everyone on the bus had a confused look. Terry was the best bus driver in town. You could

count the number of times he had been late on your right hand. He hardly ever stopped for a
passenger.

“We’re waiting for the cashier it seems.” said the postmaster walking back from the front of
the bus.

“Well, that’s unusual, poor Dylan’s always on time” replied the old bank receptionist sitting
on the second last seat.

“There he comes,” said the coach. “Move it, fella, we’re waiting for you !” he shouted from

the window.
A thin tall man was walking slowly towards the bus, he picked up pace as he heard the coach’s

call.
He boarded the bus, thanked Terry, and continued to walk towards the back of the bus.

The bus started and the chatter suddenly silenced out. He was wearing a white shirt with his
sleeves rolled up, having his blazer hanging on his right forearm and a small brown paper bag

in his left hand.

Dylan Choke boarded the same bus every day for the past eight years. Number 18 in the
morning from 3rd Street, and returned from the bank in Number 7. Most of the town recognized

him by face as he was the only cashier at the only bank in town.

He sat down on the last seat beside the plumber, Jerry Sanderson. He was a short old man, with
a grey beard and a bald head covered by a black beret. He was wearing a bright yellow shirt

with light blue jeans and rubber boots. He had recently moved to town last year. In the short
time that he had been in town, he had managed to build a good image among the residents,

thanks to his amiable nature. Everyone knew him as Jerry The Plumber. He was a regular on
the same bus just like all the other passengers.

“Good evening, Mister” he greeted Dylan lifting his beret.

“Good evening, Jerry” he replied in an uninterested manner.

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