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| e382671 | Our school bus driver was a middle-aged man named Ray, who might have shaved once a week, probably didn't bathe that often, and his huge belly rubbed against the steering wheel as he maneuvered the vehicle. Ray had a perpetual scowl on his face and seemed to be in a trance-like state of detachment most of the time. Every once in a while, however, some particularly violent outburst summoned him from his reverie, and he would yell in an extre.. | David B. Crawley |