For better or worse.
The empty parking lot should have been a clue. No security in the doors even more so. But we were so engrossed in our luggage and tired after a long day of good buys we were not aware of anything until we walked into the terminal, few minutes before midnight and it was completely deserted. The lights were dimmed and it was dead quiet. An empty terminal that normally is exploding with people; it was so eerie that the sinking feeling in my chest became overpowering. I looked at Chuck who was, like me, moving his eyes from side to side taking in the deserted departure hall. Without people dragging suitcases behind them and the usual frenzy it looked bigger than usual. I think we were both waiting for the lights to come up suddenly and flood the big empty surface revealing the people like a big surprise party. After all we were getting married and on our way to our wedding so it was almost a reasonable expectation.
But nothing happened, just a short elderly lady with a big broom appeared from the other side of the hall dragging her feet and humming an unknown melody under her breath. She almost bumped into us, gave us a tired look, as if by now she has seen everything and nothing will surprise her. As if two passengers on a Friday night in a closed airport was an everyday view. She shrugged her shoulders and turned in the other direction.
“Hey, where is everybody?” I said just to break the silence and my voice sounded strange and hollow in my ears. Chuck pulled out the tickets from the blue pouch holding our passports and other vital papers. He leafed through them looking hopeful, maybe the answer will jump from one of them. I did not have to look; I knew what was written there, we checked the tickets many times as we always do but now I suddenly got it. We were one day too late.
I could see that Chuck had the same premonition from the look on his face. I knew many years from now this is going to be funny. Many years from now we will tell this story on how we missed the flight to our own wedding and everyone will laugh. I will describe in great detail how we walked into the airport on Friday night only to find no one. I will giggle telling how we had to lay low all through Saturday and wait till Sunday for the travel agency to open so we can purchase another set of tickets.
Standing there in the airport looking into the emptiness I wished I could leap into the future and avoid facing what I knew was coming next.
“Flying on Friday…? Isn’t the airport closed Friday night?” That will be my mother on the phone from the other side of the ocean in that remote South American town on the banks of the Parana. She and my father were living there for the past year teaching Hebrew and running the local Jewish school.
“So when are you going to make it here finally?” that will be Chucks’ mother from her living room in Connecticut. “You know how much more work there still is? We could use some help…” she will leave the sentence hanging in the air. We never asked his parents to plan a big wedding we kept insisting on a small gathering but standing in the airport we were in no position to argue.
“Back so fast? We didn’t even have time to miss you” that will be my cousin husbands’ who just minutes ago drove us to the airport. His wry humor will do very little to cheer us up.
“So, let me understand what you’re saying” that will be the travel agent on Sunday morning. “You think it is my fault that you were twenty four hours late for the flight and I should reimburse you? Are you out of your mind?”
We were.
At that moment in the empty terminal, the two of us were desperately hoping for a miracle that will make this go away or at least help us disappear for the coming twenty four hours. In the car on the way back from the airport to my cousins’ house ,sitting low so no one will see me, I remember thinking, so that’s what it means, for better or worse and it starts right now.
I enjoyed this very much--especially since I had the similar experience of missing my plane because I hadn't known the weekend marked the shift from regular time to daylight savings. As you say, it's an experience you know you will some day look back on with a laugh, but it's not so funny at the time.
ReplyDeleteFunny that all three of your travel pieces ('Gridlock's is also a travel piece) actually have you motionless, not getting anywhere at all!
Here, you are in complete and absolute control of your material, unlike the other travel piece. The tone is light. You make no false moves, understand the piece very well, and take the reader along with no bumps in the ride.
I particularly enjoyed the amusing remarks you imagine you will hear from relatives, travel agents, and so on--that is a clever idea, executed perfectly.
I'm curious about why this one works so very well, and the other travel piece is broken-backed. Was this a very easy, very fast write--it reads as if it was done with great ease and confidence, but sometimes that breezy quality is actually the result of much hard work. And the other piece, the name piece--was that much harder to write? Have you been thinking about writing it for a long time? Have you tried writing about it before? Or was this your first shot at that material?