The bus departed at exactly 7:30 a.m. without delay. The moment we left the station, I set a chat rolling with my partner.

"I'm Jack."

"Pumlani."

"I'm heading to Port-Elizabeth. Are you off to Cape Town?"

"PE too, of course," he said, laughing.

I guessed he liked my attitude. Without asking, he began to talk about his mission to the Eastern Cape Province. His boss had summoned him a few days before and asked him to travel to Port-Elizabeth for an assignment in a high-school.

I knew our mission was the same right away. My boss, Mr Tsepo, had called me four days back.

"You are leaving for Port-Elizabeth to teach Maths in a community called Glenmore." I was beside myself with joy because I'd always wanted to travel out of the city to have a feel of the hinterlands.

That aside, staff evaluation was going on at the office and my name featured on the list of those to be promoted. This assignment was all I needed to seal it.

"We are travelling for similar tasks, you know. Everything you just explained applies to me."

"Oh, you work with Dekkers too?" he asked, raising his brows.

"Sure. I'm at the Jo'burg head office." My shoulders rose a bit. I still had this nasty habit of raising my shoulders whenever I spoke about Dekkers. Though not a top staff, being employed gladdened me. Many of my friends still attended interviews around the country.

"I'm at the Pretoria office. I came to Johannesburg last night to take this bus," Pumlani stated.

"I have been with Dekkers for about five years now. Glad to meet you, buddy."

"Likewise."

Dekkers Consultancy was a government-recognised educational facility with offices in two provinces– Gauteng and KwaZulu-Natal. But management had started thinking of expanding our offices to other provinces. Many of the government education policies got implemented through our company.

The recently introduced National Curriculum and Assessment Policy Statement (CAPS) was the reason we had been deployed to the Eastern Cape. The programme was meant for high schools in South Africa, and our task was to demonstrate to the teachers how the new curriculum would affect their current teaching methods.

The project would last four weeks; after which the regular school staff would take over from us consultants. The schools must get used to the new curriculum within the shortest possible time.

"Well, we are now partners," I said.

Pumlani laughed aloud. A free-spirited guy, his openness made it easy for us to chat for long while the bus trudged on.

"Your woman is just as hearty as you are. And she looks like a natural partner to you. I'll like to see you two walking down the aisle someday."

"Hawu. I love my girl, but marriage is a different thing altogether. I met her three months ago, and she has been very supportive so far."

"I can see she loves you deeply. Not many ladies met a few months back would come with you to the station. You must be treating her nicely."

"I believe so. What about your woman? How long have you been together?"

"Two years or so."

"Oh, that's some decades. She must be unsafe around you. I mean calling you a hanstadar."

"Yeah, I think so. She doubts my move all the time, but I don't know why.

"That's not hard to tell. It's for the same reason my girl followed me here: Fear of losing you."

"But a man will misbehave if he wants to. And when you have a woman you cherish, you want to keep her. I love Yenzo, and I wish she can just trust me a hundred percent. I used to play around in the past, but not with her. Messing around doesn't favour me anymore."

"Men are always guilty of cheating these days, even when you are not into it."

"True. Sadly true."

"Marriage talks in the air?" Pumlani asked, sensing that I was besotted with my woman.

"I've not asked her to marry me, though. But I will, eventually."

"That sounds romantic."

"Sure it is. She is special."

I was twenty-nine, and I thought Pumlani was four years younger. He came across as a likeable person who never frowned at a jibe. Urbane and appreciative of other people's opinions, I got along with him very well.

"Would you like some biscuits and juice?" I said, picking up my bag.

"Sure."

I brought out snacks from the bag, and he did the same. His girlfriend provided home-cooked food for him. We munched and chatted as we got to know each other better.

Travelling on the long roads brought my attention to the fact that the Eastern Cape was a big province, one of the biggest in South Africa. Port-Elizabeth, our destination, was the biggest city there.

We napped when we had nothing to say. At other times, I looked out through the window or tried to chat with Yenzo when the network looked stable. She hinted in a text that she changed her mind about going to the office 'because of me.'

Pumlani didn't tell me what he did the night before, but his noisy snores suggested that it might have been a rough evening. A Winston Churchill era locomotive train couldn't have sounded louder. Not sure what might displease a new friend, I left him to enjoy his own company. We remained in that posture 'til the bus stopped midway for us to refresh.

A sharp pain burrowed through my knee-bones immediately I came off the bus. I quickly bent over and held my knees with both hands. Sitting on a chair for hours wasn't my thing. I recalled that I hadn't been regular at the gym. I must try and keep fit when in Port-Elizabeth. The task at hand demanded fitness.

I guessed a first-time traveller like me wasn't hard to spot. I lifted my head up to find a lady walking towards me as I stretched my hands. When she got close, I flinched.

Noting the worry lines on my forehead, she asked: "Why are you scared?"

"Jeeez! You look like my sister."

Her lips extended into a phoney grin. She then tilted her head to one side and folded her arms on the chest. Her eyes ran over me from head to the tip of my shoes. The sassy lady thought I could do better with my pick-up lines.

"Look, forget what you might be thinking. You look like my sister – Dasha."

Not sure if she was convinced, she turned to a different lane.

"Did you sleep on the bus?"

"Err...I did for a while."

"That explains the mirage. I'm not your sister; I'm completely distinct. Cindy is my name, and I'm a curator. What's yours, and how do you roll?"

Her confidence was so arresting that it dissolved the aches in my knees. While other passengers stretched their legs, Cindy looked very much at home. Her gleaming eyes suggested that the long journey had not affected her. The young lady's carriage and her striking semblance with Dasha drew me closer.

Do people come in pairs? She wasn't just a look-alike. The manner she gestured mirrored Dasha's. The only difference was her extra weight. Even in her taupe polo-neck sweater, I could make out the folds of flesh by her flanks.

Thinking she might just be another Dekkers' staff, I thought of engaging her in a chat. Since Pumlani had untapped sleeping talents, this lady could be my new chat partner.

"I'm Jack, and I must say that you are magnetic."

"I'm no longer your sister. I'm now the magnetic damsel."

"I can see you haven't been sleeping. How has the trip been for you?"

"It's been eye-opening. It's my first time leaving Jo'burg."

I winced. "Another first, but will she believe me?" "Same with me. I'm out of Jo'burg for the first time."

She rolled her eyes for a few seconds. "There he goes again. Why don't you try new lines? You don't have to sound boring just to amuse me."

He comments cracked me up.

Now relieved from the eerie feeling of having seen Dasha, I felt like warming up to her. By the pavement nearby, I sat and encouraged her to do so.

"When I said you looked like my sister, I wasn't joking."

"Tell me about her, then."

"Oh, Dasha is as crazy as you are. Whatever she set out to do, she strives to achieve. Also, she never held back from discussing whatever troubled her. Must I add that she's pretty, just like you?"

"Thank you. You are a lady's dream yourself."

"Really? I'm hearing that for the first time." I led her on, feigning interest.

"Sure thing. I'm sure ladies swoon around you."

I shook my head. "Never, I have one girl only, and she means everything to me."

"So they always say." She looked away.

"Well, tell me about your man."

"Err...well, he's there somewhere."

The bus engine revved to life as the driver got ready to move. He called on everyone outside and we all hopped in.

As we settled back into the couches, I observed that she sat two rows behind. Cindy chatted on, not minding that other passengers looked disturbed. I lowered my voice to a whisper trying to shut the discussion, but the lady prattled on.

"Tell me about your sisters. I want to know more."

I gushed on about those wonderful girls and how close I was to them. I briefed her on the circumstance of their birth, the schools they attended, their favourite food, what got them upset, and even how they liked to argue with my past girlfriends whenever they showed up in the house.

"Heya..." She repeated several times. Cindy listened with a kind of attention I hadn't seen in a lady for a while.

When the man to my right dropped from the bus, she came forward to replace him. Now she wasn't only listening, she ogled at me intensely. Whenever I felt like rounding off the discussion, she would bring up a topic earlier skipped, pushing me to take a deep breath and talk some more.

I managed to ask a few questions in a bid to know her better. But after blabbering about herself for some seconds, she would pass the baton over. In short, she succeeded in keeping me awake for the rest of the journey. She also didn't snooze, so the wakefulness was mutual.

Soon, we delved into specific personal issues when she asked: "What do you like in a woman?"