Off The Record
I Saw A Kid On The School Bus Hit The Back Window And Yelled For Help
I witnessed a terrified school bus girl beating on the back window on my way home. My world halted. Something was badly wrong. How could a youngster be in danger on a safe school bus? My heart skipped a beat as I chased the bus to find out.
Each raindrop on my windshield as I drove home echoed my heart’s sadness. Today was my worst day. My fiancé canceled our wedding last week, and now I’m unemployed. My mind was a jumble of feelings and thoughts.
I muttered, “Stay calm, Mollie,” knuckles white on the steering wheel. “There must be another way. When one door shuts, another opens, right?”
But the remarks rang hollow. How could I tell Mom I was fired at home?
It made her sick to worry. Since Dad died, she’d been my rock, and I didn’t want to disappoint her.
My phone buzzed five times. Mom again. I stopped at the curb and replied.
“Yes, Mom, I’ll be there in 10 minutes. I drive…”
“Mollie, honey, did you see the weather forecast? A major storm is coming. Please beware.”
Swallowed hard. Nothing compares to my inner maelstrom.
Yes, don’t worry. My arrival is imminent.”
“Is everything okay? Sound off.”
“I’m fine, Mom. Just exhausted. Got to drive, okay? Love you,” I hung up, throat tight.
How could I tell her I was fired for criticizing management? Though they claimed “not meeting quarterly targets,” I knew the actual reason.
“What’s the worst that could happen now?” Putting the car in drive, I mumbled.
Not knowing, I would soon find out.
A yellow school bus passed me as I rejoined traffic. I saw a little girl with her face on the glass and her tiny fists hammering madly in the back window. The girl cried for aid.
“What? My God, is she okay?” Oh, I gasped.
I accelerated to catch the bus without thinking. This toddler was upset, but why? An apparently safe school bus could put her in danger.
I muttered, “I’m coming, hold on, sweetie,” blasting my horn.
As if nothing was wrong, the bus driver drove on. With panic in my chest, I acted quickly. I swerved around the bus and cut in front, stopping it on the busy road.
The hefty driver with a thick black mustache stormed out. “What’s your trick, lady? Maybe you triggered a crash!”
I ignored him and rushed to the bus. Noise hit me like a wall. Kids surrounded the girl, shouting and laughing.
I ran to the back, where the small child sat alone, crimsoning and crying. Reaching her, I froze. This was unexpected.
“My God! You experiencing an asthma attack?”
The tiny girl nodded furiously, her chest struggling for air. Heart racing, I knelt alongside her seat.
“What’s your name, sweetie?” Asking quietly, I tried.
She showed her ID card around her neck. Her name is Chelsea.
Chelsea, we’ll help you. “Where’s your inhaler?”
Chelsea shook her head, speechless. When I looked up, the driver was pale and following me.
“Do you know where her inhaler is?”
Shaking his head. “I had no idea she was struggling. It’s so loud back here I couldn’t hear.”
I snapped and searched Chelsea’s backpack. Nothing. As the girl’s lips became blue, panic gripped me.
“Help me look!” I yelled at the driver.
We looked behind the seats, along the aisle, everywhere. I was horrified to see the other kids laughing and pointing at Chelsea.
“This isn’t funny!” Snapped at them. “She needs help!”
Then it hit me. I grabbed their backpacks despite their objections.
A freckled boy said, “Hey, you can’t do that!”
A Chelsea-branded blue inhaler was in the third suitcase I checked. I approached the backpack-owning boy.
“Why do you have this?”
He said, “It was just a joke.”
“A joke? She might have died!”
I ran to Chelsea to help her take the inhaler. Her breathing and face color restored slowly. She recovered as I held her hand and whispered comforting words.
Wringing his hands, “the driver stood. I’m sorry. I was unaware.
My rage flared as I faced him. You’re responsible for these kids! Check what happened when you heard a commotion!”
He nodded shamefully. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Chelsea whispered as she yanked my sleeve. “Thank you.”
Those two sentences impacted me harder than anything else that day. Now I couldn’t leave her.
“I’m staying with you until we get you home, okay?”
Chelsea nodded, smiling slightly through her tears.
I faced the driver. “Moving my car and riding with her. That okay?”
He nodded swiftly. “Yes, of course. It’s the least we can do after… everything.”
I noticed my hands shaking when I got off the bus to park my car nearby. What a day.
On the bus again, I comforted Chelsea with my arm. The other kids were unusually silent now, realizing the gravity of what happened.
“Why didn’t the other kids help you?” My request was gentle.
Chelsea’s lip twitched. “They find it funny when I can’t breathe. Sometimes they hide my inhaler.”
It shattered my heart for her. “That’s wrong, Chelsea. You understand?”
She nodded, glancing at her hands. “I try to be brave, but sometimes I get so scared.”
Squeezing her shoulder. “You showed great bravery today. When you needed support, I noticed. That requires guts.”
Small smile on her lips. “Really?”
“Really. A brave person I’ve met is you.”
Chelsea pointed to the window two stops later. “That’s my mommy and daddy!”
Chelsea’s parents hurried over after we got off the bus, confused.
Her mother looked at me carefully. “Chelsea, who’s this?”
“This is Mollie,” Chelsea stated with more energy. “She saved me.”
After Chelsea told what happened, her parents went from confused to grateful to angry with the bus driver, the other kids, and the circumstance.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” Chelsea’s father cried.
“I’m just glad I was there to help.”
Chelsea’s mother, Mrs. Stewart, insisted on driving me home. We arrived in the mall parking lot to sheets of rain.
“So, Mollie,” Mrs. Stewart asked me over the rain-streaked window, “what do you do?”
“I chuckled bitterly. It’s funny you asked. I was fired today.”
Mrs. Stewart’s eyebrows rose. “Sorry to hear that. What happened?”
I sighed, reliving the day. “I exposed unethical practices. That bothered them, so they created a reason to release me.”
A moment of silence from Mrs. Stewart. She added, “My husband and I have a little business. We may have room. Have you considered an interview?”
Unsure if I heard her, I blinked. “Are you serious?”
She grinned. “Absolutely. Whoever goes so far to aid a child in need is someone I want on my team.”
As we approached my car, the rain had subsided to a drizzle. My business card came from Mrs. Stewart.
“Call me tomorrow,” she said. “We’ll set something up.”
Hope burned in my chest as I held the card. “Thank you. I will.”
The next morning, I felt lighter than in weeks. I told Mom everything. About my job loss, Chelsea’s rescue, the new opportunity, everything.
Pride filled her eyes as she hugged me.
“I always knew you were meant for great things, darling!”
While dialing Mrs. Stewart’s card number, my heart raced again, but with excitement rather than fear.
“Hello, Mollie,” Mrs. Stewart’s sweet voice said over the phone. “I’m grateful you phoned. Are you up for an afternoon interview?”
“I couldn’t help smiling. Would love to. Many thanks for this chance.”
“No, Mollie,” she answered, almost smiling. “Thank you. You saved our daughter. This is our minimal effort.”
I cried after hanging off the phone. For once, they were tears of delight, not despair.
I was very thrilled to understand that God always opens another door when one closes. Sometimes that new door leads to unexpected locations.
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