THE school children were as rowdy as ever as they jostled each other getting onto the bus. The older ones took over the back row. The pecking order flowed from there to the nerdy ones at the front.
‘Belts on,’ Speedy yelled as the door hissed closed. ‘No exceptions, missy.’ He glared at the teenager with wild bleached hair in the back row who poked her tongue out him, the silver stud in the middle of it adding to his annoyance. ‘Get off if you don’t like it,’ he called, buckles clinking against seats as the children around him did as directed. He opened the back door. ‘Off?’
‘All right, all right,’ the teenager snarled back at him, clicking her seatbelt into the keeper.
He knew she’d undo it as soon as she thought he wasn’t looking, but he’d done his best to keep them safe. It made him sick to think there were drivers who didn’t bother. You take on this job then you do it right. Kids had no idea about safety.
The bright red hair of the young lad in the middle of the bus caught his attention. Daniel Scott. He’d told Speedy his mum’s birthday was coming up soon. Dan’s mother was a good-looking woman who always had a friendly word for Speedy. He knew there was no Mr Scott.
One of the advantages about being a driver, everyone looked right through you. You were invisible, part of the furniture. It was why Speedy had taken the job. He could go places no one else could. He learnt things from listening to the conversations around him. He knew stuff because no one looked twice at him.
It made him feel safe, made him feel a part of something. He could still remember the slick sweat of relief when his blue card, the state government permit allowing him to work with children, came through without incident. You knew your identity was clean when it got through that test.
The first drop-off was a good fifteen-minute journey and he drove sedately. Speedy. That’s what everyone called him. It used to be Blue, but his red hair had paled to brown and silver long before he moved here. Now they called him Speedy because he never drove fast. Not the school bus, not the rural fire truck, not his ute. Speedy suited him just fine. Even his orange firefighter overalls and pale blue bus-driver shirt were embroidered with Speedy.
Forty minutes later, he arrived at the top of Happy Jack Road. The bus was empty but for Dan. He hesitated for a split second.
‘I’ll drop you to the gate, mate,’ he said over his shoulder. Dan had moved to the seat behind the driver.
‘Thanks, Speedy,’ he mumbled, looking embarrassed.
‘I won’t tell if you don’t, eh?’
‘All right.’ The kid looked down at his Nintendo, his hair flopping over his forehead.
‘Your mum home?’
‘Nah, just Nana. Mum’s away at work.’
‘Right. When’s she back?’
‘Why?’ There was suspicion in Dan’s bright eyes and the angle of his head.
‘Just asking.’
‘Oh. Day after tomorrow.’ Dan bent forwards again and Speedy squinted ahead as a vehicle came around the corner. He edged the bus over towards the verge, but the driver of the oncoming car flashed his lights and pulled onto the hard shoulder to let the bus through. Speedy raised a hand in thank you as he eased past. The other driver raised two fingers off the steering wheel.
Speedy didn’t recognise him. Out-of-towner. ‘Know him?’ he asked the boy.
Dan shook his head. ‘Nah, I think he’s looking at Jerry’s place. Saw him yesterday and the day before. He waved.’
‘Is that right? You don’t go talking to strangers.’ There was no question in his words. ‘You be careful. You hear me?’
He realised he was being overly concerned, but he couldn’t stop himself. Dan looked down again, but not before Speedy had seen the frown on his face. Speedy knew all about dangers that this boy couldn’t even dream of. He pulled to a stop in Dan’s driveway and waited for the boy to unload his bag. The bus vibrated as it sat idle, rattling the loose change in Speedy’s pocket. Before he could stop it, he remembered his stepfather jiggling his pockets as he stood at the bedroom door. The briefest flash of memory before he caught it and slammed it away.
‘See you tomorrow, Speedy,’ Dan called, retrieving his bike from the bike cage and bumping it down the stairs.
‘Sure thing,’ he muttered. He closed the door and threw the bus into reverse, manoeuvring it through a three-point turn. ‘Sure thing.’
Whoever the guy was in the flash four-wheel drive, at least he understood country protocols. But who the hell would want to live in old Jerry’s place? It was a dump. It had to be over a hundred years old. Even the water tanks looked ancient. He’d ask around tonight at the pub. Small town, someone would know what the go was.
His thoughts kept him company on the drive back to the bowls club where he picked up the group of retirees. It took a little longer to load them into the bus than the kids, but the noise levels were the same as he drove them back to the Rose Gum aged care home. They bantered with him, cupping their ears to hear him better.
His shoulder was slapped a dozen times as they filed out. A couple of the women gave him motherly smiles as he helped them down the last small step. The younger of the two carers stopped next to him, smoothing her glossy hair. He could smell her perfume and the faint musk of a woman. She was an attractive divorcee and he wasn’t immune to her charms.
‘Thanks, Speedy. You’re so patient with them all. They much prefer you in charge of the wheel. They think the world of you.’ She leant in a little. ‘And do so I. See you next time.’ She hit him with a wide smile that seemed all the brighter for the shiny lip gloss.
‘See you later, Lorraine.’
‘See you, Speedy.’
The older carer was the last to leave. ‘Catch you next time.’ The glance she gave him was shrewd. It didn’t need to be. He knew better than to take Lorraine up on any perceived offer. The company didn’t like the drivers fraternising with the customers. Of course that didn’t stop him fantasising about what it would be like to lie with a woman without money changing hands and without the spectre of failure looming in the dark.
He shifted in his seat, feeling his body burn with sudden desire. He lifted his foot off the brake and the bus moved forward. Time to visit the house in Parramatta Park down in Cairns again. The women were clean and the prices reasonable. Better to service the need than become consumed by it.