They couldn't wait to get rid of Old Jim. He was a left over from the early days. He'd been a trolley driver back in the fifties.
It was suspected that he smoked on the bus. If they caught him they'd fire him in a minute, but they weren't likely to get up at three thirty to surprise him on the early run. he was so senior he got his choice of runs, and the ninety mile round trip from downtown to Halton was his favorite.
On this snowy morning Jim slipped away from his snoring wife and listened to the radio while he showered.
``The storm of the decade,'' they said. Snow and more snow in the forecast. School closings. Warnings. Advice. It did not snow often here.
About the same time in Halton a man named Thomas sprang out of bed with his heart pounding. He had to catch that plane!
``Did you look out the window?'' his mother said, ``its snowing hard.''
He looked out the window. His car a white mound. The black air filled with falling white.
``I have to get that plane,'' he said.
He was thirty three. Still lived at home. Never had a decent job. Then he went back to school and got an MBA and now this company in New York City was flying him for an interview.
``You could reschedule,'' his mother said.
``Hell with that,'' he answered, ``its now or never.''
He had no chains for his car.
``The bus!'' his mother said.
``The bus?''
``The bus will get you to the airport shuttle. The bus.''
``The bus wont be running.''
``Go check. He'll have chains.''
But Jim had no chains. He'd left the garage before the order to chain up went out.
At the Halton coffee shop the regulars awaited Jim.
``He always makes it. This is nothing,'' they said.
And he did arrive. Late, but not very.
``Airport shuttle? You know how lucky you are? This was my day off. Some kid was supposed to drive today but he got sick so I got called last night. We'll most likely make it.''
Old Jim had a grey face with bags under his eyes big enough to hold a cheese burger. He coughed magnificently into his right hand. His left hand hung out the bus window, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers.
They drove slowly, picking up snow people looming up like solitary sentinels alone and fear filled in the dark.
There was much laughter and coffee drinking on the bus. The woman who never spoke smiled at the boy in the stocking cap. The guy going to the sheltered workshop started to sing. They made it safely to the plowed roads.
Thomas reached the bright efficiency of the airport, settled into his meager seat on the plane and composed his mind for his new and shining future.
Old Jim retired before the snow fell again. Moved to Florida they said.