The Dream Bus
By A. V. Mansur
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I heard someone shouting, "All aboard for heaven! This way, please! You must travel this road if you wish to go to heaven. There is no other way! We have checked all other routes and this is the only safe one." I heard a number of people assenting and soon I found myself being led affectionately to the beautiful coach standing by a neat sign which read: "Heaven Bound! No Intermediate Stops! No Changes] The Only Coach to Heaven!" I was led by the warm hand of the friendly captain through the wide doorway which leads in, but never out, except upon very special occasions.
To my amazement and delight the interior was even fancier and more enticing than the exterior. It was warm and cozy. The atmosphere was restful, calm and conducive to tranquillity and peace. It was quiet and the passengers seemed to be in perfect harmony with one another. They were all so serene and amiable it seemed as if it would be impossible to start even a slight disagreement among them unless one was a born agitator. And what troublemaker would want to disturb such serenity?
Being of a cautious disposition I asked the captain and passengers if they were certain this was the right vehicle to take us to heaven. All assured me beyond doubt it was the right coach and the right road. Some said, "Ours is the only coach which will ever make the city." They admitted there were other buses (they always used the word "buses" except when speaking of their own "coach"), the captains of which were trying to find the right road, but they said they would never find it because they had not checked their maps carefully and were all destined to end up in Lake Gehenna.
Afterwards, some of the passengers told me confidentially that it was their "private opinion" that some of the other buses, although counterfeit coaches, might make the trip. They said the buses were rickety and the accommodations poor, adding to the hardship and risk. They informed me that most of the counterfeit buses did not have the proper facilities for staying on the right road and said, "They could get you lost!" I thought all of this over and it made me feel comfortable and complacent to know I was on the right coach.
The sturdy one-way door had not swung all the way shut but I was confident I was on the very best coach, perhaps the only one that would reach heaven. A sort of drowsiness was in the air and thinking I would never be want-
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Since I was still rather new they told me patiently that the tranquillity of the passengers was the most valuable and precious possession of all. They said their forefathers had worked out the perfect formula for peace and happiness and we must guard it at all cost. Then. they explained that the hundreds of counterfeit buses were disturbingly noisy and their bright lights continually shining and flashing through our windows would cause unrest among some of the weaker and newer passengers who had not learned about all of the finer features of our coach which made it the best and most reliable of all-indeed the only one really worthy to be called a coach, since the others were only buses.
Some reminded me once more that ours was the only coach which would actually reach heaven. They thought that, without a doubt, it was the first and only real coach ever built. They told me that once it had been stolen and involved in a terrible wreck which laid it up for ages. So many of the passengers had been killed in the wreck or by marauders, there were not enough faithful craftsmen left to repair the "carriage" (as it is sometimes called in the vehicle code book). They said that after many centuries some of our fathers started reading the old book and discovered a lot of things they had overlooked. They found that through careful attention to detail and by hard work they could actually reconstruct the old coach and make it like new and as good as ever. All one needed to do was to check the infallible vehicle code book and he would find that it was exactly the same in every respect.
Later I learned, quite by accident, the wisdom of keeping the windows and shades tightly closed. One of my closest friends among the passengers told me that upon one occasion one of the windows had accidentally come open. The curtain had blown back and so much fresh air and light had entered that some of the passengers, mostly the weaker ones, had been revived and grown restless before the captain discovered what had happened. A few had even jumped from the window with the idea of trying one of the buses. There was a rumor they had been over-stimulated by the fresh air and lights and had been dazzled until they thought some of the counterfeit buses might be as good as ours.
My friend told me there were others ready to jump by the time they could get the window closed. He said that most of the passengers wished afterwards that these had jumped out. They became a source of irritation by their questions and finally were ejected through a small door in the rear to which only the captain and the mechanics had the keys. It was believed that the fresh air would have been safe if it had not carried all sorts of impurities from the exhaust of the counterfeit buses.
We had a few scouts, a very few, who were agents for recruiting of new passengers. We were always needing additional passengers to pay the captain and the increasing cost of operating such a fabulous coach. These scouts were required to be good talkers in order to make the passengers in the counterfeit buses realize that according to the vehicle code book, or "manual" as some preferred to call it, their buses were completely inadequate and unsafe, and that few, if any of them, would ever reach heaven. After they had succeeded in convincing them of the frailty of their own buses they still had to sell them on the superior features of our coach and convince them that they ought to get on board.
Although these scouts were the most important men we had, there were not too many of them, because it was nicer just to ride along in the coach. Too, it
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As I intimated, all of the passengers seemed contented and satisfied. Seldom was there a dissenter who could not be quieted by a few stern rebukes. The captain was actually the worst problem as he appeared quite temperamental. He never lost sight of the fact that he was driving the right coach, but sometimes when he was lecturing he became excited and raised his voice because he was afraid some of us might get culled out about the time we neared our destination. He was especially loud if we failed to pay our full fare regularly or tended to go to sleep when he was making a speech on "The Coach that is Right and Cannot Be Wrong." But no one appeared to pay too much attention to him and the old coach kept rolling along.
While the captain seemed to think that what he had to say was greatly important the general undertone and tenor of the crowd indicated that the main thing was to be in the right coach. There were about three hundred different buses, of various makes and models chugging along. The consensus on each was that theirs was a "coach' and not inferior to any of the others. Most thought theirs had some appointments which made it better than the others. A few thought theirs was the only one of any importance. Even those who thought that one bus is as good as another still spent vast sums and gave a great deal of attention to organizing their passengers to keep them separated from those on the other vehicles.
Editor's Note. A. V. Mansur is a retired farmer whose address is Route 2, Box 278, Galt, California. He is anxious to send every reader of this journal a booklet entitled "The Functioning of Every Member" and you may secure one by simply sending your request. There is no charge.