What if the so-called "Special Ed" kids were more special than anyone could imagine--brilliant scientists, musicians and artists trapped inside bodies and brains that betrayed them?  And what if there were a place where that specialness was revealed, if only for a few short minutes every day?  For Artemis Thacker, a young boy with Down's Syndrome, those blessed moments of normalcy are found in the most unlikely of places--the short bus.
 

Art stepped on to the short yellow bus, then paused and blinked twice, as though trying to catch a stray thought that flitted by too quickly.
    
"Up you go, Artemis Thacker.  I've got other stops, y'know."
    
Art looked up at the driver, wondering, as always, how the old man knew his given name.  And knowing, as always, that he'd never be able to ask, forbidden by the sign just above the driver's wide rectangular mirror that read:

NO TALKING TO THE DRIVER WHILE
THE BUS IS IN MOTION.  
Or even when it ain't.

Art wiped his mouth absently with the back of his hand, vaguely surprised when it came away damp.  Then he remembered – he'd been drooling.