The Long Way Home

by Phillip Overton

  Chapter 11

  December 1982

  It was the last day of school. Simon grabbed his school bag as he excitedly ran out of the classroom with the other kids the moment the school bell rang. Their teacher had made them all sit quietly for the last five minutes at their desks while they anxiously waited for the bell. When finally it did ring, all mayhem broke loose. The entire class got to their feet, screeching their chairs backwards across the linoleum floor while the teacher’s yells were largely ignored, and the students thudded their way across the floor of the demountable building and poured out into the asphalt playground. School was out for 1982.

  Across the junior playground he ran, towards the lines of children forming under the shade of the willow tree at the entrance to the junior side of the school. The teachers always made them line up in their bus groups before they were allowed to board the bus for the ride home. Some bus groups then got to walk around to the senior side of the school to board the bus, others, like Simon’s, were picked up first at the junior side. Simon caught the West Gosford bus and quickly made his way over to his bus group. He sat down near the front of the line, and even in the shade the asphalt was hot under his bottom from another boiling December day. Simon always liked to get the first seat on the bus as he got off at the first stop. That way he always got a seat on the way home, unlike coming to school where he nearly always stood up due to being the last kid to get on.

  “Simon!” Someone called out to him. He turned around to see his friend Cameron Carpenter walking with his bus group around to the senior side of the school. “See ya next year!” His arm waved.

  “See ya Cameron!” He yelled back, waving excitedly before a shadow fell over him and he turned around to see Mrs Grimstone towering above him.

  “Simon Small, did I ask you to yell out at the top of your lungs?” She scorned him.

  “No Mrs Grimstone.”

  “Then why are you?” She snapped back. “Go to the end of the line.”

  “But…”

  “I don’t care, just go to the end of the line!” She yelled loudly at him.

  Simon stood up, picked up his bag and turned around to walk past all the other kids who were sitting in the line just quietly staring up at him, all except Max Abbott Jnr. He laughed and poked out his tongue as Simon walked past. ‘Why does he have to catch the same bus as me?’ Simon sulked to himself as he walked past him. He reached the end of the line, dropped his bag to the ground and sat back down on the hot asphalt.

  “What’s wrong with her?” A head turned around to ask. It was Simon’s friend Brian who was two places in front of him. Simon watched Mrs Grimstone walk away before he dared answer him.

  “She’s just mean, that’s all!” Simon said. “I got in trouble from her again today when she was on playground duty. She always picks on me.”

  “What did you do?” Brian asked him.

  “All I did was run to the playground as soon as the bell went at lunch break and she told me off. I had to pick up rubbish for the rest of my lunch break.”

  “She sure doesn’t like you! I hope you don’t get her as your teacher next year then.” Brian said.

  “Okay, West Gosford bus to your feet. Your bus is here, single file, no running and have a nice holiday.” A teachers’ voice interrupted as Simon’s bus pulled up in front of the school gate.

  The children immediately got to their feet and paraded in single file out through the gates of Gosford Primary School and onto the waiting school bus. The red brick school surrounded by its demountable classrooms would sit silent for the next six weeks, brooding, waiting for its’ students to return next year. For the students, their thoughts were already focused on the Christmas school holidays, summer, the beach and what Santa was going to bring them on Christmas day.

  Simon was the last student to get on the bus, the front four rows were already filled by the time he mounted the stairs and the driver closed the doors behind him. Brian and some of the other children had raced to the back seat of the bus for the short ride around to the senior side of the school where the bus would pick up the grade three to grade six students. Simon stumbled down the aisle to join them as the bus lurched away from the school, passing Max on the way, who was sitting in the middle of the bus saving a seat for his older brother Christopher. Simon didn’t like him any better, he would always protect Max, even when Max was the one at fault.

  “Hey Simon, I saved you a seat.” Brian called out from the back of the bus.

  “You know we’re going to get kicked to the front of the bus as soon as we get to the senior side don’t you?” Simon said as he slid in beside Brian.

  “Yeah but for a little while we can be kings of the bus.” He replied as the bus stopped at the end of the street before making a left turn into Mann Street and driving along the top end of the school. The two boys looked down at the school and the empty playground below, not at all sorry that they wouldn’t see it again until next year. Turning left into the next street, the bus rolled slowly down hill and pulled up at the rear of the queue of buses still waiting for students from the senior side to board.

  As each bus in front pulled away theirs rolled slowly forward, until it neared one of the two school gates and a swarm of students swarmed around the front door of the bus, waiting for the driver to open it. The younger kids already on board immediately began to move forward, cramming into the front half of the bus. Simon and Brian were just getting out of the back seat as the doors opened and the senior students swarmed on board.

  “Hey out of our seat you two little worms!” One of them called to Simon and Brian the minute they spotted the two grade one boys at the back of the bus.

  Brian raced down the middle of the aisle before they reached them and jumped into a seat beside their friend Craig near the middle of the bus. Simon wasn’t as quick and got caught up in the crowd of older kids who kept pushing past him as they began filling the rear seats of the bus. Not being able to move against the flow of kids moving up the aisle, he stood there, all the while being bumped, pushed and pulled out of the way by kids older than him until finally he was the only student left standing on the bus. He looked around him at seats occupied by those in grades four, five and six. Some of them sat alone in the double seats, their leg or school bag on the seat beside them, smiling smugly at him.

  “Are we all on?” The bus driver called out above the sound of students busily chatting. “Seats please!”

  Simon still stood toward the back of the bus. Everywhere he looked the seats were taken.

  “Oi, you at the back,” the bus driver called out loudly. “Sit down now!”

  Simon spun around, embarrassed. Every head on the bus turned around to look at him, including Max Abbott Jnr.

  “Yeah, sit down worm!” Max called out. Everyone on the bus laughed loudly at Simon.

  “I’m not driving this bus until you are sitting down young man.” The bus driver called again.

  Simon looked at one of the older boys beside him who had his leg up on the chair and went to try and sit beside him.

  “Sorry,” he said as he leaned forward protecting the empty space beside him. “This seat is taken.” Simon tried another boy two seats in front of him.

  “Sorry, taken.” The reply came again.

  “Hurry up please and find a seat.” The bus driver called again, this time sounding even more impatient.

  “Hurry up and sit down.” The kids on the bus began taunting him.

  “Can I sit beside you?” Simon asked one of the grade six girls who was sitting on her own. He felt the eyes of everyone on the bus now, staring intently at him as he struggled to find anyone that would let him sit next to them.

  “Eeewww!” She replied as she looked at Simon’s petrified little face. “Go and sit next to someone else.”

  Simon looked down the aisle at the bus driver who was now on his feet and totally fed up with him and then he saw it. Like an oasis in the middle of the desert, two friendly faces were wav
ing at him from near the middle of the bus, motioning for him to come down to where they were. It was Brian and Craig. Simon hurried down the middle of the bus and squished in beside them, the three little boys and their school bags crammed into the double seat.

  “Hooray!” The cheer went up from all the other kids as they turned their attention away from Simon again and began chatting busily among themselves. The bus driver sat back down and in a moment the bus was pulling away from the school.

  “Thanks.” Simon said. “I didn’t see you from back there.”

  “That’s okay, we were saving you a seat,” replied Brian. “That’s what friends are for isn’t it?” Simon just smiled and looked across at Craig who was sitting beside the window.

  “Hi Simon.” Craig said. Craig Goodey and Brian Wilkes had both been in Simon’s class the year they all started school together and despite spending this year in different classes they had all remained friends. Craig was the quietest of the three boys, his thick, deep brown hair fell over his ears while his hair parted down the middle leaving a long fringe to dangle down to his eyebrows over a milky white forehead.

  Brian just sat there in the middle of the two boys. He was the shortest of the three boys, his short, jet black hair sat easily atop a rounded face. His blue eyes danced wildly with the prospect of mischief and adventure.

  “What are you going to do over the holidays?” Craig asked Simon.

  “I’m going to my Dads’ house for…”

  “Thanks for holding the bus up worm!” Max’s voice rudely cut in before Simon could finish answering him.

  Simon turned to see that he had sat directly across the aisle from Max Abbott Jnr. He sat there smugly beside his older brother, the two of them staring at the trio with their usual scornful looks plastered across their faces.

  “Yeah well it’s a wonder you could fit on the bus with your big ears!” Brian shot back at him as he leant forward over Simon.

  “Hey watch it alright!” Max’s brother Christopher warned him. “Or I’ll see how far I can make your ears stretch.”

  Brian sunk back in his chair behind Simon, out of view from Max and his older brother. Max just sat there with his arms folded and a smirk on his face, proud that his older brother had taken care of him again.

  “I’m glad we don’t have to see him until next year.” Brian whispered in Simon’s ear. “I haven’t liked him ever since he wrecked your party.”

  The bus turned the corner and drove past the Central Coast leagues club before turning left into Donnison Street. It snaked its way across the bridge over the railway tracks and turned left where the road became the Pacific Highway heading west out of town. The bus paralleled the railway line briefly, passing a string of coloured, wooden passenger carriages stored behind the grandstands at Graham Park and swung right past the Gosford Motel before pulling off to the side of the road at the first stop. Simon and Brian both grabbed their schoolbags and stood up.

  “See ya Brian, see ya Simon, have a good holidays.” Craig said as the boys left their seat.

  Simon stepped out into the aisle and went to walk toward the front of the bus but instead tripped badly, landing flat on his face. From on the floor he spun around while everyone on the bus was laughing at him and saw Max bring his leg back behind the seat from where it had been, in the aisle. He had been tripped! Simon got to his feet with Max still laughing and pointing at him and walked right up to him.

  “Quit it big ears!” He yelled at him before shoving him hard on the shoulder with the palm of his hand. He picked up his bag and turned to hurry off the bus when there came an almighty push from behind. Max’s brother Christopher had quickly got to his feet and pushed Simon with all his might, sending him forward in a flurry of arms and legs until his face impacted with the metal handle on the back of one of the seats. Simon felt the immediate sting of the metal bar as it struck his nose before falling hard to the floor.

  Brian reached down and quickly helped him to his feet. The bus driver had his back to everything that happened and hadn’t seen a thing. Four other children had already hopped off the bus and he was about to close the door and pull away.

  “Wait!” Brian called out to the driver, who immediately spun around and saw him helping Simon down the aisle. Blood trickled slowly out of his left nostril and he had begun to cry. The entire bus went quiet as all eyes watched the two boys reach the door beside the driver.

  “Oh my goodness! Is he alright?” The bus driver asked.

  “He got pushed over.” Brian said, helping him down the first step.

  “Is he going to be alright? How far do you have to walk home?”

  “Just a block up the hill.” Simon sobbed.

  “I’ll help him home,” Brian offered. “I know his Mum, I know where he lives.”

  “Well make sure you do that okay.” The bus driver told him. “Take him straight home and explain what happened to his mother. I’m sure she’ll know what to do.”

  “Yes sir.” Brian said over his shoulder as he helped Simon down the last step. Then to Simon he added, “C’mon then, we’ve got to get you home.”

  The two boys stood back from the bus with the other children who had also got off at the first stop and watched as the bus pulled away with every window filled with at least two faces pressed up against the glass, once again staring at Simon. When there was a break in the traffic, they all crossed the road together before Brian left the others behind as he hurried Simon home.

  The two boys continued together, following a street up the hill for a block before turning into the street where Simon lived. They hurried up to the front door and knocked loudly. Simon was still sobbing badly, his face stung and his nose had by now bled all down the front of his grey school shirt. There was no answer.

  “Let’s go around the back.” Brian suggested. They headed around behind the carport at the side of the house to the back clothes line, half expecting to find Simon’s Mum there bringing in the washing. The backyard was also empty, there was nobody home.

  The two boys went back around to the front porch and knocked on the door again but there was still no answer. The thought of no one being home at a time like this only made the situation worse for Simon and he began to cry uncontrollably.

  “Don’t cry Simon, I’ll stay here with you. It’s going to be alright, I promise.” Brian tried to console him.

  “But you’ll get in trouble with your Mum and Dad for being late home again,” sobbed Simon between sniffing back tears.

  “That’s alright, that’s what friends are for isn’t it?” Brian said as he put an arm around him. “Here, hold your nose with your school shirt and put your head back like this.” He demonstrated using his own shirt.

  The two boys sat there together with their legs swinging over the front porch in the shade from the hot afternoon sun.

  “Are you two young ones alright?” Asked a concerned elderly voice and Simon looked up to see Mrs Braddley hobbling the last few metres up their driveway.

  Across the street, Laura Braddley had spent the afternoon glued to the television watching re-runs of I Love Lucy. Her husband Jim was out with his lawn bowls buddies for their weekly Friday afternoon 70 years and over B grade pennant match. Laura’s arthritis was getting progressively worse, to the point that she now no longer accompanied her husband to his lawn bowls games, even though the courtesy bus picked them up from their front door.

  She was unsure whether she in fact heard the first knock on the door. The sound was so soft it barely carried over sound of Lucille Ball coming from the television. When she had pried herself from the chair to adjust the volume, the second knock that followed had left her startled. By the time she had hobbled her way over to the front door to answer it, the person had knocked a third time. So it had left her surprised when only a second later she had opened the door to a completely empty front doorstep. Whoever had knocked was simply nowhere to be found.

  It was then however, that she had seen the Small boy and hi
s friend coming up the street. The boy simply looked a mess, blood streamed from his face down the front of his already stained shirt as she watched him sob his way up the driveway that led to his house. Then she had remembered earlier in the day seeing Mrs Small being picked up by a friend of hers at the same time as Jim had left for his lawn bowls game. Thinking about it now, she couldn’t remember seeing her return, and the thought had crossed her mind that the young child’s mother might not be home.

  So mustering all her strength, the elderly lady had managed to carefully descend the front steps, cross the road and hobble up the Small’s driveway. She made it halfway up just in time to see the two boys come from around the back of the house and plonk themselves down on the front porch to wait for his mother to return.

  “Simon got hurt on the bus,” Brian spurted out at the sight of the old woman. “I think he’s hurt bad and his Mum’s not home, can you help him?”

  “Oh I think I can.” Laura said as she made her way closer to Simon for a better look. He was still upset, but apart from that he seemed alright. It was just a blood-nose that they hadn’t worked out how to stop bleeding and a red mark under his eye that would probably form into a small bruise. “Did you get into a fight young boy?”

  “No Mrs Braddley, a bully pushed me over on the bus.”

  “He’s telling the truth Miss,” Brian explained. “We didn’t do anything, he just pushed Simon when we were getting off the bus and he hit his head.”

  “It’s okay, I believe you.” She replied warmly. “You must be a good friend to have helped him. I’m sorry but I don’t know both of you boys’ names, I must be getting old, I only know you are Mrs Small’s boy.”

  “I’m Brian. I’m Simon’s best friend.”

  “I’m sure you are young man.” She replied. Then turning to Simon she added, “Why don’t you come across the road to my house while we wait for your Mother to come home and we’ll see what we can do to clean you up a little. I think what you two boys need after such an awful afternoon is a cold glass of milk and some biscuits. Would you like that?”

  “Yes please Mrs Braddley.” Simon answered.

  The two boys followed her slowly back down the driveway and across the road to her house. Inside, Mrs Braddley cleaned Simon’s face and hands and made him change out of his bloodied school shirt and into one of Jim’s lawn bowls shirts while they all had afternoon tea together watching a re-run of Get Smart on TV.

  “Tell me boys,” Laura had quietly asked at one stage of the conversation. “Did either of you knock on my front door on your way home?”

  “No Mrs Braddley.” They had both politely answered.

  “It’s lucky that I saw you come home then I guess.” Before thinking to herself, ‘strange then, there is absolutely no way that anyone could have disappeared that quickly from my doorstep without being seen. I can see clearly halfway up the street from the front door.’

  Maxwell Smart then continued to trade lines with the chief and agent 99 until 5 o’clock when Rowena Small returned home in a taxi and Mrs Braddley took the boys back across the street.