The sidewalk led Applejack round to a large, paved area protected from the elements by a sweeping transparent roof, underneath which, teams of ponies stood hitched to vehicles that looked a lot like extended stagecoaches. These were mostly presented in the same red, white and blue livery of what she assumed were the colours of the company that ran the service, but over to one side a dozen or so bright yellow ones marked school bus stood unoccupied. She chortled quietly to herself thinking what Apple Bloom and her friends would make of being picked up by one of those every morning.
“Excuse me, Ma’am!” called a uniformed stallion with a peaked cap and a clipboard, “The bus for Menoponie is leaving!”
“Oh ... er … sorry an’ all” she stammered, looking frantically about her until she noticed a team of eight particularly strong looking earth ponies just beginning to move away with a red, white and blue bus behind them.
“Over here, stay behind me until the bus has departed, please” he ordered, ushering her safely behind him.
They both watched as the bus drew out, and as soon as it had disappeared safely into the traffic, he turned back to her, staring directly into her eyes and demanded, “Now, what do you think you’re doing here? This area is clearly marked as being off limits to passengers. You could have been hurt!”
“Look, I’m sorry mister” she responded, “I’ve just come from the station an’ I didn’t know the rules round these parts.”
“Oh, you’re not from around here, are you?” he acknowledged in a much softer voice, leading her over to the public concourse, “The accent is a dead giveaway. Look, this area is for the buses to come in and go out. Technically you’re jaywalking and trespassing, so I suggest we get you to where you’re supposed to be before either of us gets into trouble.”
As they neared the railings that separated the public concourse from the bus movement area, she felt burning stares from all the other passengers, each of them wearing expressions that showed they were judging her silently.
“Beg pardon” she said collecting herself, “Only I’ve come here to meet with my cousin, well at least I think he’s a cousin … his name’s Golden Graham, an’ he lives around these parts. I don’t suppose you know him do ya?”
“Sorry, no” he smiled genially, “It’s a big city; welcome to Whinnieapolis. I’m guessing you’re from somewhere a bit smaller?”
“Yes, Sir” she responded proudly, “I’m from Sweet Apple Acres; that’s in Ponyville.”
He looked back blankly, “Where’s that near?”
“I guess Canterlot’s the nearest city. You must know Canterlot where the Princesses live, right?”
“Heard of it, but that’s like, off the map! You’re not telling me you’ve come from there?”
“You bet your boots!” she beamed back at him.
“Well, I hope this cousin of yours appreciates the lengths you’ve gone to in coming to meet him. Do you know which town he’s in?” he asked.
“Hitchfield” she said, “Know it?”
“Yes, Ma’am, I do. I’ve travelled everywhere in Whinniesota; not many as can say that hereabouts. Know it like the back of my hoof, you might say. Yes, Hitchfield is on the Henson bus, stand number four; it’s not in yet. Should be here in about a half hour or so. Now if you’ll excuse me, it sure was nice meeting you, but I’ve got a schedule to keep, and please don’t go a-wandering on the wrong side of the railings again” he added with a knowing smile, “It’s going to get busy.”
“Thank you, Sir” she replied, touching her hat in salute and then wondering what she should do until the bus came in.
Applejack hadn’t been in a bus depot before and watched with interest as the different buses came and went. After a few minutes, a sudden surge of activity saw an influx of ponies pouring into the far side of the movement area. The image of such a large number of ponies converging into such a small space seemed to invite chaos, but in less than a minute they had all lined up behind their respective yokes in front of the fleet of yellow buses, and within five minutes the school bus fleet had formed an orderly procession ready to spill out onto the streets.
She shook her head in wonderment and let out a soft whistle that caught the ear of the inspector. He turned to see where the sound had come from and saw Applejack’s large green eyes looking back at him.
“I told you it was going to get busy” he said giving her a cheeky wink, then adding, “Your bus should be coming in once this lot has gone.”
The tailback of buses worked its way out of the depot like a bright yellow centipede inching its way out of its lair until a much larger, emptier and altogether more echoey space was left behind.
Applejack looked around at the sight of the recently emptied depot, an inexplicable whiff of sadness passed through her as she likened the sight to an empty nest once all the fledglings had gone. Before she could get maudlin over the analogy, a clatter of hooves and a rumble of wheels announced the arrival of the Henson service. In a single motion, the perfectly synchronised team of four pulled round to stop precisely on the allocated spot without even needing to look down at the marks on the ground. The instant they had stopped, a pair of helpers rushed out to tend to the tired team while the passengers disembarked. Once the bus was clear, four fresh ponies came out and the helpers swapped teams over in readiness for the service to go out once more.
“That’s the one you want” came a kindly voice that caused Applejack to turn and see the inspector nod towards the newly arrived bus.
“Why thank you, Sir” she replied tipping her hat and making her way to the stand, where she was first to board and take her pick of the seats, choosing one on the nearside of the bus facing forwards to give her the best view of the scenery. She settled into the seat and took Golden Graham’s letter out for a final read through, just to make sure she hadn’t missed anything and felt as a comforting glow coursed through her; she had travelled so far and was now only a bus ride away from finally meeting him!
A few other passengers came on board to join her, and she touched her hat in a neighbourly greeting to each in turn, receiving responses ranging from an elderly stallion who returned her an engaging smile, to being completely ignored by a couple of middle-aged mares engrossed in a conversation about shopping. None of the new arrivals chose to sit next to her, but she was getting used to this self-imposed distancing by now, and paid it no heed.
When the minute hand of the large clock inside the depot clicked round to point to the nine on the clockface, she heard a whistle and then felt a lurch as they pulled away from the stand and ventured out to face the hurly burly of the city.
At the beginning, there were a lot of stops and starts as they threaded their way through the traffic, but shortly, the scenery opened out to reveal a flat landscape of the type she had become familiar with on the long train journey, and the bus settled into a constant cruising speed. Applejack looked out of the window and counted down the mile markers expectantly, the nerves she had felt about taking the journey now being replaced by those she felt about meeting somepony and his family who may or may not be kinfolk.