The Number 8. Joel Arcanjo

nineteen and she’s twenty-one.” She had a husky, gravelly voice like she’d been smoking for twenty years. He liked it.

      But before Dante could say another word a stumpy, hazel-haired woman popped up at the front and coughed into the loudspeaker.

      “Hey guys. My name is Mel Brown and I will be your guide for the duration of your trip.” A cheer went up. She smiled and blushed a little. “Welcome to the Pleasant Pheasant, everyone. I will do my best to make your trip with us three weeks of awesome.” There were a few giggles. She was obviously nervous and her Kiwi accent made the phrase sound even funnier.

      “It will be a few hours until we get to our next destination so make yourself comfortable and enjoy the ride.”

      Someone from the back shouted out, “Where are we going first?”

      She smiled grudgingly as if to say, “You should have read the program,” but she had to be on this bus with a mob of youngsters for the next few weeks. She had to make a good impression or the rest of the trip would be torture for her. She simply replied, “Hot Water Beach.”

      Dante shuffled sideways back to his seat and squeezed past Asmir to the safety of his corner.

      “Az, what the hell is a ‘Pleasant Pheasant’?”

Chapter 3

      “Oh, so you’re a convict then, are ya?” This line and the commotion that came after it was what threw Dante out of his peaceful sleep.

      “Shut your face, Viktor!” screamed a guy who he hadn’t met yet. He had dirty blond hair and a slightly darker beard. Dante could tell by his accent that he was Australian.

      “What’s Carl saying?” Viktor mocked, turning towards James for a reaction. James obliged him.

      “Something about shrimps and barbecues, I reckon,” James chuckled.

      “Ignorant idiots!” Carl flew at Viktor and landed a couple of blows to the side of his head before anybody could intervene. James then threw out a huge tattooed arm and grabbed Carl tightly by the shoulder.

      “I don’t like hurting people, but I will hurt you if you make another move,” he said menacingly, his eyes fixed on Carl.

      Dante could see Carl weighing up his options and realizing pretty quickly that James had size and reach on him so he backed down, still glaring at Viktor who was grinning smugly from behind James’ gigantic left shoulder.

      Mel had seen this and decided to stamp this kind of behavior out early. She called them both up to the front and spoke quietly enough that she wouldn’t be embarrassing them, but sternly enough to ensure it never happened again. Dante only heard one sentence of the lecture, but one sentence was enough in this circumstance.

      “If this happens again, pack your bags, your tour’s over. Understood?”

      They both nodded.

      An eventful morning, Dante thought to himself.

      Dante looked out the window and was hit by the bright sunlight. He raised his hand to block it as best he could. It was obvious they were coming close to the coast. Seagulls circled above and the salty scent of the ocean drifted in through the open window. Dante loved the ocean. He had lived there for years in his childhood. His cousins had been close by. Every day after school they would head over to the dunes just around the headland and roll down them, run down them, whatever they felt like on the day. He remembered how he had just sat there, after they had all gone home and stared at the sea. Rain or shine, he cherished that moment. But he could safely assume that he wouldn’t get that kind of time to himself for a while. Especially with Asmir around.

      He turned to Asmir, “Hey. Thanks again man for getting me to come on this trip. I needed this.”

      Asmir beamed at him and slapped him on his back. “We’re gonna have a good time. I’ll make sure of that.”

      Dante laughed. If there was one thing that Asmir was good at, it was ensuring he had a good time. He couldn’t finish an assignment on time but he could take you on the night of your life.

      Mel stood up at the front as he knew she would and announced, “Wipe your eyes and stretch those thighs, we’re here!”

      There was a collective cheer which ended up more like a collective groan. Half the bus had been asleep and had not taken kindly to Mel on the loudspeaker.

      This was it then. The start of the trip of a lifetime. It would be unforgettable.

Chapter 4

      “Do you need help down there, mate?” came a voice from behind him.

      “Erm… No… No thanks, I’m fine,” Dante mumbled as he tried to get himself together.

      They were at Hot Water Beach and Dante had been the last to disembark. In his haste to catch up with the rest of the group he had rushed down the stairs, tripped and fallen flat on his face. He felt the sand beneath him, hot on his skin from a full day of sun. He must’ve been on the ground a second or two before instinct kicked in and he thrust himself to his feet with ease. As he brushed the sand off his face and clothes he turned towards the kind soul that had offered his help. It was the bus driver.

      “Kid. Watch your step next time. Lucky it was only me that was here to see that. I’ve seen the same happen to other kids and they were legends for the rest of the trip,” then, just to rub it in he added, “in a bad kinda way.”

      His physique was not what Dante had come to expect of bus drivers. Muscular, but not tall. He was sat on the edge of his seat facing the doorway so Dante couldn’t be sure but his height must’ve been around 5’10. His salt and pepper hair was neat and combed to the right. He was clean shaven and seemed fairly upbeat. He must have been in his late forties and he had something about him that drew Dante in.

      “Thanks for the warning, Mr…” Dante said, walking back towards the driver.

      “Mr nothing. Call me Ben.”

      “OK, Ben. How long have you been driving these tour buses then?”

      “A few years now. Mostly this route. It never gets old.”

      “So I guess you aren’t from here originally?”

      “No, lived in England for most of my life but…I much prefer it here.”

      Dante was sure he heard his voice crack a little but didn’t push it any further.

      “Where do you live now then?” Dante asked.

      “Here and there. Most of the year I’m driving these tours so I don’t really get a chance to settle down.”

      “Did your family move out here with you?”

      “What is this, twenty questions?” He smiled, then quickly changed the subject. “I wouldn’t miss out on the beach if I were you. Some pretty amazing views down there and after your little…accident,” he smirked, “you need a swim to clean yourself up.”

      Then, before Dante had a chance to respond, he used a lever by his foot to close the doors.

      Rude, Dante thought.

      Dante got the hint and made his way down the sandy path. He had a strange feeling about this driver. He wasn’t your average bus driver and he clearly hadn’t taken this job to make any friends. But then again, Dante had gotten a little personal pretty quickly. If someone had asked him certain questions he would be taken aback. He wasn’t in the habit of telling strangers his personal business.

      Everyone has secrets, Dante, he thought.

      But Dante was here to do, not to think, so he wandered off.