Page 2 of Shimmering Emeralds
Bile rose up in my throat and threatened to upheave as I silently prayed that no one was injured. I would never forgive myself if anyone––especially a child––had been seriously hurt.
Holding on to the seat with one arm, hoping to keep myself from falling too hard to the top of the bus, I used my other hand to push the button to release my seat belt.
After a controlled fall toward the ceiling, I reached up to try to find the radio. I needed to get these kids off the bus, but first, we needed help to be on the way to us. One look out the shattered window, told me that we most likely were not at the bottom of this hill. The last thing we needed was for the bus to fall any farther before we could evacuate it.
Somehow, my voice managed to sound only slightly shaky as I relayed our location and precarious situation to dispatch.
Their response was fuzzy, and I was forced to assume they got the message down correctly because the bus suddenly went wild as a wave of panic swept through the rows of kids. My hopes of hearing what dispatch had to say were eliminated by the frightened screams of children. Although I was glad to hear that they were conscious, their piercing shrieks made it difficult to focus.
Knowing that I needed to get a handle on this before they began scrambling to get out of the bus and toppled us further down the hill, I raised my fingers to my lips and let out a high-pitched whistle. The sound was startling enough to catch everyone’s attention.
I knew the moment of silence would be brief, if I didn’t calm everyone down, so I spoke in a clear, loud voice, despite my growing sense of panic.
“Everyone please be quiet. We will get you off of this bus, but we need everyone’s cooperation.”
A quick look at the front doors of the bus told me that exit route was blocked by a large tree branch. Deciding to try our luck with the other exits, I made my way through the nearly upside-down aisle toward the back of the bus. The roof hatch was of no use because it was practically sitting on the ground. It could only be opened a few inches.
The back door and window emergency exits would be our only means of egress. One of the emergency windows was broken with dangerous shards of glass dangling precariously. A girl was working to release the latch of the window on the other side.
“If you’ve got this exit covered, I’ll go get the back door open,” I said to her.
“Yes, I’ll get it,” she promised before turning to glance in my direction.
In that brief moment, it felt like the ceiling fell out from under my feet as recognition bolted through my system. I would know those gorgeous green eyes anywhere… Meg Stark. The one that got away.
She still wasn’t any bigger than a minute. In fact, I had believed her to be one of the kids. Proving that she was still as fiery as ever, she aimed those green lasers in my direction and spat, “IsaidI’ve got this. Take care of the back.”
I didn’t have to be told twice. My mind would have to process later the shock of seeing Meg for the first time in over five years. Right now, we had an emergency to deal with––a terrible emergency that I had caused. It was yet another thing that Meg could hate me for.
As I made my way to the back of the bus, a frightened little girl grasping her knees as tears silently streamed down her cheeks caught my eye. “It’s going to be okay,” I promised her, hoping that I was right and silently cursing myself for being the cause of all of this trauma.
She lunged into my arms, and I didn’t have the heart to set her aside. Instead, I carried her toward the back of the bus. When we got there, I held her with one hand and used the other to unlatch the emergency exit door.
After flinging the door open, I said to the girl, “Step down to the ground, then climb up there.” I used my finger to point to a meeting place a safe distance away. “As kids come out of the bus, tell them to come up and stay with you, okay? Can you be in charge of that?”
She nodded solemnly, obviously taking her responsibility very seriously. Once she took the big step down from the top of the bus to the forest floor, she darted off in the direction I had indicated.
The children’s teacher, Mrs. Wright, touched my shoulder. The older woman looked frightened, but rational. “What do you need me to do?”
“Go out there and keep track of the kids at the meeting point.”
After helping her down the big step, I added, “There’s a man out in the woods somewhere. I’m not sure if we hit him.”
Mrs. Wright nodded her understanding before making the trek to the prescribed meeting spot.
I quickly began ushering more children out the door and instructing them to leave their belongings behind and follow their teacher. The frightened kids scurried out the door and ran to safety. I kept a count of them, but realized that I’d been so startled by Meg’s appearance that I hadn’t asked her to do the same. We would need to do a proper head count once we had everyone safely off the bus.
Of all of the mornings for me to have had a sick cow to deal with at my parents’ farm, which nearly made me late for the field trip, this had to be the worst. Normally, I liked to greet everyone as they boarded the bus and do a mental inventory of who was riding with me, as well as a full inspection of the bus.
This morning, I had skidded in just as it was time for us to leave. Principal Johnson had handed me the roster of passengers on a clipboard. I hadn’t even glanced at it or walked around the bus to do a minimal kick of the tires before boarding and taking off on our trip. Any other time, I would have known Meg was on my bus.
Forcing myself to focus on what was important in this moment, I watched as kid after kid jumped down to safety. There were some bumps, scrapes, and quickly forming bruises, but thankfully, I hadn’t seen any major injuries.
Proving that my sixth sense around her hadn’t completely evaporated, the tiny hairs on my arms stood at attention. Sure enough, when I turned around, Meg was standing directly behind me.
“We are down to one little boy who needs help to get down because of an injured leg,” she informed me.
“Okay,” I nodded, already walking toward the front of the bus, sweeping my head back and forth to check for anyone we might have missed.
