Walker

At my children's school, if you are not riding a bus home, you are a "Walker". Since it is a parochial school there are a number of buses that come and go from the various school districts. It's easier to get the buses off on their way, and then allow parents to pick up the other kids.

The normal routine at dismissal is that Barb, the office secretary, announces the number of whatever bus has pulled up, and those kids scramble out and get on their bus under the watchful eye of Mary Kate and whoever happens to be helping her. (No, no Ashley at our school.) Once all of the buses have come and gone, Barb (who I have known well for many years) will announce "Walkers" and a flood of children bursts out of the building. Colorful snow pants and jackets, abundant noise. A pleasant sort of chaos takes place, and we parents smile at one another, take our kids, and wander on back to our cars.

Yesterday my kids were supposed to be walkers, so I wrote the required note. It's all very organized. Barb types up the list of walkers/ absentee, etc and every teacher gets a copy by lunchtime. It sounds like a great plan, doesn't it?

When I got to school and found parking the last few buses were pulling away and walkers were already spilling out of the building. I saw my daughter, no less than 10 feet from Mary Kate, standing still and just generally behaving like she usually does. But where was Daniel? Ah, my little wild card, he was probably inside talking. I went into the lobby, looked around, and asked Barb where he was. She paged him to come down to the office.

Then a friend of Dan's said, "He got on the bus."

Houston, we have a problem, no one is at the house. I looked at Barb, she looked at me, and she picked up the phone to the bus company. She's good - her brain was clicking away and as she was dialing she was saying to me "I'll tell them to let him off at the F. family's house because then he'll be with D and H." I was impressed because it was a good plan - H babysits for us sometimes.

Barb spoke with the bus company and then gave me a face - "He got off at the house." Rut-oh. To them "Noone's home."

I looked in my cellphone for my neighbor's number, the ones we call "Aunt B and Uncle B" because they have grandchildren the same age as my kids and we have a wonderful friendship with them. I realized I didn't have it so we looked him up quickly, and called - no one home.

I realized that I had the cell number of the teenager who lives two houses down, because SHE babysits for me too. I dug it out of my purse, called her up, and said "Nik, Dan got off the bus and I'm not home, do you see him?" She looked out and said "I think he's sitting on the front steps. Let me go down there, I'll stay on the phone with you." God, I love cell phones. I may pay her bill from now on.

I could hear from her breath that she was hurrying and then she said "It's just his backpack. He's not there."

As I've indicated previously, I live in a nice quite neighborhood, tucked off the beaten path. However, at this point I think my brain switched partially off. There was a little thread spinning in the back of my mind about a car, taking him away, that I specifically closed down. Nuh-uh. I just started repeating everything Barb and Nik said.

"It's just his backpack - he's not there."
"Maybe he walked around to the deck - call his name"

I heard her screaming his name, which is what I wanted to be doing. Then - "He's ok - he was at Mrs. P's house."

He did what he was supposed to do. We had talked about which houses to go to if Mom isn't home when the bus drops you off. I just never figured he'd have to do it alone.

It may be hard for some people to understand the instant swing from "Oh my god where is he" to "I'm going to kill him." Walker to Dead Man Walking in less than 10 minutes.

Teachers and Barb apologized profusely, which I waved away because I completely understood, he forgot, he got on the usual bus. I bought flowers for Nikita. He cried, a lot. I write. That's how I let things out.