Page 5 of Only One Tour Bus

“Welcome to Expedition Tours, where every trip is an adventure.” I recite the naf slogan, managing to keep my eye roll internal. A feat made possible only with practice. “I’ll get you checked in and settled on the bus.”

“Hi. I’m Roshni and this is my wife, Camila.” They look less than enthused for people about to go on a trip, but that is none of my business. It is my business to check them in, which I do without any unnecessary conversation. Asha appears out of nowhere to take the bags. And to engage in some of that unnecessary chat with the tourists.

The next ten minutes are quiet again, and then the rush descends fifteen minutes before departure. Asha and I fall into a pattern, where she steals my iPad to check in people while I take over the baggage-loading duties. Since I also need to learn everyone’s name today, I keep an ear out while she checks them in, glad I don’t have to make small talk this once.

Maybe she is useful.

There’s Peter and Jennifer with their daughter, Virginia. The white couple look like they took the expedition in our name seriously, since they’re more suited to trekking through a jungle, with khakis and performance shirts, than a whirlwind tour of ten cities in twenty days. But I refrain from rolling my eyes. Their daughter, dressed in what was very fashionable wear for the nineties and probably again now—not that I would know since I don’t keep up with teen fashion—doesn’t have as much self-control and does roll her eyes at her parents. Well, she’s not the professional here.

Thomas and Kevin are next, old fraternity brothers in their twenties on a holiday. The two white men are definitely part of Asha’s group. I can tell because they’re already on the tear. At nine in the morning, no less. But they aren’t vomiting yet, so Rob tells me I’m not allowed to judge. Verbally.

Christina, Maria, and Charlotte are attorneys who work together. I can’t imagine voluntarily spending time with any of my coworkers, but more’s the power to them if they can stand each other. The women look to be in their late twenties, all in a uniform of leggings and what may or may not be a stylish top. Better people than me can decide that. Christina is East Asian, Maria is Latina, and Charlotte is white, and they all have a lot of enthusiasm for very early in the morning. At least we won’t have to worry about getting them up on tour. Unless the former frat boys, who are already looking at them, have anything to say about it.

Henry and Doris, a retired Black couple, are next. They seem to still like each other, go figure. Henry hovers round Doris, helping her up the steps and getting settled in the bus. That much attention would be stifling to me, but Doris humors him, looking on in what I assume is affection.

Then Asha checks in a group of tourists who all came on their own. A white man, a white woman, a Latino man and a Black woman. Who are apparently named James, Erica, Emilio, and Rebecca, in that order. I don’t get much more than that because they’re a lot quieter than anyone else, and less susceptible to Asha’s idle chit-chat. But no one can say if it’s a natural shyness or nerves at coming alone, and if they’ll become just as boisterous as the rest of the lot by the end of the tour. A man can hope it’s the first option.

And then my least favorite group. The one that strolled up to the bus with no urgency despite being ten minutes past departure: Louis and Brian with their son, Jack. To be fair, Louis, a Black man, does look slightly disheveled and apologizes. Brian, a white man, on the other hand, saunters up the bus stairs with no concern for other people’s time. Jack, a Black teenager, just looks embarrassed by it all. He’ll make fast friends with Virginia, bonding over the time-honored tradition of being embarrassed by parents.

And oh joy, all the travelers are American. The amount of selfies they’ll take in the coming weeks could power the whole coal obsessed-country, if science could only find a way to harness it.

Asha is already bounding up the bus after the group, a huge smile on her face. While the sounds of the people on the bus are muted, I take an extra few seconds to breathe. Asha might be able to turn on happiness at the drop of a hat, or, heaven forbid, might actually just be that happy all the time, but us mere mortals need a slight bit more preparation.

Because these people are going to be my responsibility for the next twenty days. And I have to entertain them like I’ve never entertained before, or my paycheck is going to shrink.

And that is enough to force a small smile to my lips.

CHAPTER 3

ASHA

“Hello, adventurers!” I yell into the mic, picking up the slack for my co-leader, who is standing outside the bus looking like someone told him he has to work a Black Friday shift at Walmart.

I get a decent response, mostly thanks to my already drunk frat bros. So in the tradition of every human with a mic in front of a crowd, I ask for more energy. “Aww, come on. You can do better than that! Hello, adventurers!”

In the tradition of people wanting the person with the mic to shut up and move on, they give a much louder response the second time around.

“That’s better. I’m Asha, and I’ll be your…well, one half of your tour guide team, for our epic trip together. This is going to be a whirlwind, but a fun one! I’ve passed out little booklets with our itinerary if you ever need a quick check for what city we’re in or a reminder of everything you did, when you’re back home later.”

I wait in case anyone needs to tell me they didn’t get one. Or that they already lost theirs. It would be a record, but I’ve ceased being surprised at the human capacity to lose things, or oneself, on holiday.

Which is a good thing, because now I’m prepared for it.

“This is our driver for the trip, Laura. She’s the most important person because I can probably be replaced by an app, mostly, but Laura can’t. So let’s give her a hand.”

Clapping fills the enclosed space. They’re clapping because I told them to, but they don’t know how lucky they are to get Laura. She is hands down the best driver, with the best sense of direction. She has never gotten me lost. Or not so lost that I noticed. I can’t say the same for the other drivers with this company. And she always finds the best parking spots.

We need every advantage we can get so my already minuscule paycheck doesn’t get even smaller.

“And here’s my co-leader, Callum. This growly Irish lad is overflowing with facts and history to tell you, complete with authentic Irish accent.” I try my own Irish accent at the last few words and get a light growl in response. Just out of the corner of his mouth.

Because he’s a professional.

To the group, who is siding with Callum with their teasing boos, I say, “Come on, my accent isn’t even that bad. I’ve lived in Europe for five years!” I wait for the boos to subside.

“To give you a heads up on what’s happening now, we’re going to do a walking tour of the city. We’re hitting the ground running so I hope jet lag hasn’t defeated anyone already?”

I get some grumbles.