✏️📚 The Big Little Bus

Day 1, 10:04. Juliet

I could so easily have been heading out to meet Rob without any idea who he really was; just a stranger from the forums who'd seen me sulking over the costy and offered me a ticket that was just a drop in the ocean to him. But I'd insisted I would pay my way, and I'd skimped and saved for a whole year to cover a tiny fraction of the cost. So now, I was taking this bus to meet up with a man I knew to be the kind of man I wanted to spend more time with. Stern, but fair. Kind, caring, charming, and with a quick wit. Maybe Mom thought I was going out to meet an online boyfriend, I'm sure that was what was terrifying her, but I knew Rob well enough to be sure I could trust him. And maybe, when my thoughts weren't so closely anchored to reality, I wondered if he might be interested in me as a woman, as well as a girl.

Was I doing the right thing? I couldn't say. Was he going to be the person he'd presented himself as? I hoped so. Would I mind if he wasn't? Probably not. Was I going to enjoy this week immensely? That much I could be sure of.

I was jolted out of my introspection by a teddy bear. It hit me in the face with some force, and I stumbled back on the steps for an instant. But Marge was there to catch me, a strong hand on my elbow and an arm reaching across behind my shoulders to make sure I didn't fall.

I caught the teddy as it fell down from my face, and instinctively held it close to my chest. I couldn't make out who'd thrown it, but Marge was clearly paying closer attention to the crowd inside the bus.

"Juliet Tyler Brave!" she sent the words out like bullets, not yelling but with every syllable radiating disapproval and disappointment. She evoked images of every strict school teacher I'd ever faced or imagined, but she didn't need to raise her voice to get a child's attention. The kind of person who'd say that anger was a poor imitation of discipline, a last resort for someone who couldn't pretend to be in control. "You do not throw things towards a person on the steps!"

A six-foot tomboy in a romper suit decorated with dinosaurs looked down guiltily, and mumbled something I didn't catch. Her demeanour went from bold laughter to shyness in an instant, and I wondered if she was actually about to cry.

"It's okay," I muttered quickly. "No harm done, right? I don't want to–"

"No," she shook her head, "Little ones must accept the consequences of their actions, because how else could they learn? Now, Juliet, do you have something to say?"

"...m'sorry..." the girl in the dinosaur outfit squeaked. She added some more words a few seconds later, but they were drowned out by the dull roar of an engine restarting somewhere underneath us. Marge had pulled a curtain across behind me, concealing the driver and the front windshield from view. We were invisible now, sealed away from the outside world. And I knew that my journey was really starting.

"Is that good enough?" Marge asked, while she reached behind her with one hand to secure a couple of padded metal bars, what could have been a child safety gate, across the top of the stairs. I opened my mouth to answer, but then followed her gaze and realised the question wasn't directed to me.

She was looking at a scrawny man in a dark suit, sitting a few rows from the front of the bus. He had a laptop open on the tiny plastic table attached to the back of the seat in front, and a pair of polaroid sunglasses clipped over his breast pocket. An adult in mind and body, I could only assume, and not likely to get down on his knees to play with Juliet and her friends. He looked down at her sternly, though. I wondered for a moment if he was one of the staff here, a security and discipline consultant or something. But his mouth set into a firm line with just a hint of a smile, and I was sure that his calm and dispassionate mask was hiding both a little anger and a lot of love. He must be Juliet's Daddy-figure then.

"I think this young lady has been asking for a spanking since we left Hartford," he eventually answered. "And I'm sure she'll be glad to learn she's finally earned it. Throwing your toys around is everyday mischief, but when someone's on the steps it becomes dangerous, and I think you should know better."