Bucking Betty was not the fancy automatic transmission powered Cummings Diesel buses. No. This was one of the last gas powered stick shift version that had not yet been phased out of the district’s fleet. The driver, Betty, was known for her constant chatter explaining why the bus bucked and kicked whenever she had difficult shifts to make.
In other words, Bret was now riding in the special needs bus. The one they used to cater to the students with limited social skills. This was so unfortunate because these children had it rough enough without having the added insult of a horrible bus to ride in.
Not being able to relate to most of the passengers, as they were not in his circle of influence, Brett attempted to make his way to the back. For the first time in his life, the group of kids who had no social power kicked him right back to the front to sit by the front door. He was now the shotgun recipient of all the commentaries Betty would offer along the way.
Thank you school administrators!
After several neck breaking jolts and bucks, the old bus made it’s way out of town on the smooth highway. The backfires were now steady loud drone of an old laboring engine trying to push all the air out of the way. Keeping up with the other bus was not an option. Every elevation brought the old bus down to a crawl. Every gear shift was accompanied by jarring jolts as the drive-line bucked and heaved in dying efforts to respond to the demands of Betty.
As Bret tried to settle himself in for the rest of the ride, his eye kept drifting around the gear lever. He could see the holes around the shifter’s cracked leather casing straight to the highway below. He also noticed that whenever Betty double clutched, she goosed the pedal needlessly. This of course led to the machine straining and bucking in protest.
Against his better judgment, he asked Betty why she needed to goose the gas whenever she completed a shift. He was not expecting the huge flush redness that overtook Betty. She quickly whipped her hair about to cover her face as she mumbled something about him needing to take a nap.
Now, curious, Bret wanted to understand her reaction a bit more. Bucking Betty was not frequently used for special trips. Most of her duties were light and on smooth flat roads. Larry usually drove her but Betty often insisted on taking the special trips, long haul drives, and the tougher back country roads too.
As Bret watched and took notes, it became quite clear that most of the bucking was intentionally set in play by the driver. However, after his commentary, Betty took great care not to buck the bus as much anymore. Funny how much smoother a bus sounded and drove once it was not being… shall we say… thrashed/whipped into compliance.
Eventually, Bret drifted and was surprised to note that his mind pictured the most awkward of scenes in his mind. What if Betty was one who enjoyed her dominance over the bus and was using it as a surrogate to how she bossed her man in private. Or wished she could. Who knew really.
That flash of blush just didn’t add up very well. But before his dream state could try and grapple this, he was awakened by some very sharp banging. As his mind gained more clarity, he realized that Bucking Betty was spitting angry backfires and jolting about very angrily. Betty was leaning forward pretty aggressively on the steering wheel, completely white knuckled. Her face was furrowed with stress and anger. The jeers from behind suggested that the unpopular kids were taunting her just like the popular kids did when bullying them.
Shallows of the Deep 