Beep Beep!

It took a while for the thumping to wake Piper. The dream was a good one, and Piper was loathe to Ieave it. Sometimes, the noise that is supposed to wake you just becomes part of the dream. "Piper! Piper!!" The shrill voice was what eventually broke through. "Piper, please wake up! You're going to be late for school." "Okay, mom," Remy groaned. "I'm awake, I'm awake..." A quick glance at the clock told Piper it was already well after 7.30a.m. The bus was expected at ten to eight. That left barely fifteen minutes to get ready. Bleary-eyed and haphazardly dressed, Piper shambled into the kitchen a few minutes later, hoping there was time for some Froot Loops. Maybe breakfast would have to be a Pop Tart, a slice of toast, or a bagel. Something that could be munched on the jog out to the bus. Instead the kitchen was filled with the scent of bacon, and the sizzle of French toast and hot butter. "I've decided to drive you in," the mother said, moving bacon from the paper towels to a plate. "It'll be easier. I have to go into the office anyway, and it's on my way." She set syrup and fresh blueberries on the table.

Beaming, mouth watering, Piper sat at the table. The mother loaded the toast on to the plate beside the bacon, and placed it in front of Piper with a flourish, and a smile.

"Eat up," she said. "Make sure you have some fruit please. I've got time to pack you a lunch. What do you fancy?"

Piper heaped the juicy berries on to the plate, but had barely scooped up a single forkful, when there was a rumble outside. The mother, busy applying mayonnaise to thick slices of bread, paused mid-spread. She hooked one finger over the cord that served as a rail for the net curtain, peered out, and gave a start. "Sh... shoot! The bus is here already! It's... Yes! I can't believe it, it's early!" She abandoned the hardly-begun sandwich, and hurried out the front in her slippers, waving at the bus to carry on. Then she bustled back indoors, and returned to sandwich-making. The rumble did not move away down the road. She frowned. Moments later, there was a loud knock at the door. With a sigh, she opened it, knife still in hand. The driver was a nondescript little man with furtive, ratty-looking features. There was something else, something she couldn't place. Some expression of eagerness or nerves, around his eyes. "I'm sorry," she raised the knife in a halting gesture, and her voice sounded cold, and not sorry at all. "Sorry, but Piper isn't taking the bus today. I did try to tell you," she added, sounding annoyed. The driver had been wearing a hat. He twisted it now between both hands. "I.... I don't mind waiting," he said. "After all, I'm early. I'll wait for a few minutes, how about that?" "No. I mean, no thank you," she said, her tone firm. "I'm afraid we're running quite late. There's no way Piper will be ready so quickly." She made to shut the door, only to find he'd stopped it closing by sliding his foot forward. "I'm sorry for the trouble," he said, his voice quite firm as well, "But since it's my fault for being early, I really must insis-" "Move. Your. Foot." Her voice was icy now. He didn't budge.

"I'm new," he explained, as if in apology, but his manner wasn't apologetic at all. "It's my first day. I could get in trouble if I leave a kid and go early..." "If that's the case," she huffed, "go on and sit out there for another-" she glanced at the clock, "-six and a half minutes." "And you'll send.... Piper... out, will you?" He was beginning to withdraw, and the mother seized the opportunity. "No," she said roughly, shoving the door closed. She peered out of the window again, at the bus half full of kids. It was usually more full than that at this point. Maybe he really would get in trouble, if he'd left several behind.

The bus rumbled louder, and moved away. She stared in disbelief. "After all that guff about getting in trouble!" she exclaimed, attacking a packet of ham savagely. "What a weird guy!" Just as lunch was packed and Piper was pushing the last bit of toast through syrupy smears, there was another familiar engine growl outside, followed by a couple of sharp honks. One more swift glare out of the window, and the mother marched out to the bus, muttering, "I can't believe this!"

To her surprise, when the bus door slid open with a hiss, the regular driver sat there, his usual cheery expression replaced with a perplexed one. The words, "I told you..." died on her lips. She craned round to look down the length of the bus; there were hardly any kids on it. "Where is everyone?" she wondered aloud. "Bit thin on the ground today," he said. "I guess they all went with that other driver," she commented. "Was there a mix-up? He didn't seem very good." "What other driver?" Back indoors, worry was giving birth to itself in her gut. She placed several calls: to the bus company, the police, the school, the office... Struck by a sudden intense desire not to let Piper out of her sight, she cancelled her meeting and suggested a day of cartoons on the sofa. Nobody ever found that bus load of kids. It vanished without a trace, and the driver was not seen again either.

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Thank you for reading!

Should I do a follow up to this one?