So none of them held on to anything when Lawrence white-knuckled the steering wheel, put both feet on the brake, and pushed down like he was giving birth. The bus screeched. The children smushed the cartilage of their noses into the seats in front of them. Rubby fell onto Marin, who yelled “Alllll right!” Deborah Champski-Five, who was standing in the aisle at the front, holding on to nothing but Lawrence’s shoulder, fell down the two little stairs by the front door of the bus as it sharply bit the curb and slammed to a stop. Lawrence pulled the open lever and Champski-Five spilled out the front of the bus on to the sidewalk to the feet of the children who were watching, mouths agape. Deboarah Champski-Five let out an even louder woman-grunt, a dog barked, and she scampered to her feet and back on board.
“What are you doing?” she screamed at Lawrence. “Don’t stop!”
55th & Penitent: Deborah Champski-Five.
Lawrence Fountaingale pulled away with a slam of the gas pedal. The kids screamed and cried in the bubble rearview. Deborah scampered back up to the aisle of the bus beside Lawrence. Lawrence didn’t handle pressure well. He always changed the channel when Final Jeopardy came on, even at Diesel House, which angered fellow Orphanites. Deborah clawed Lawrence’s shoulder.
“Why did you stop?” she screamed.
“The kids!”
“Never stop!”
“Okay!”
She ran to the back of the bus. It was a war zone in the bubble rearview. There was blood and a few children laying in the aisle. Some kids were screaming. Most were crying. Two were nearly comatose. One was laughing with his head out the window. Marvin had his hand on Ruby’s leg.
“Marvin! Keep your hands to yourself!”
“But Mr. Fountaingale! It helps!”
“I don’t care who it helps! That’s not the way to treat a woman!”
“But Mr. Fountaingale! We’re off course!”
“Sit back Marvin!”
“Where are we going?”
“Faster!” yelled Deborah from the back of the bus. “He’s right behind us!”