We fired up our engines in unison, the combined rumble echoing across the nearly empty parking lot. I took the lead position, a place of honor they’d insisted on for my retirement day.
As we pulled away from Riverdale Elementary for the last time, I caught a glimpse of Principal Hargrove watching from the doorway. I raised my hand in a final salute—not to him specifically, but to the four decades of memories, to the countless children who had trusted me with their safety, to the career that had given my life meaning when I needed it most.
The wind pressed against my chest, cool and cleansing. Ahead lay open road. Behind me rode brothers who understood without words. And somewhere beyond this earthly journey, I liked to think Margaret was watching, smiling at the old bus driver who had finally, truly, completed his route.
