Have you read Falling Behind – Part 1?
“I’ve been here before. I think we have to take a bus,” Brian says. We start down a hallway that, compared to those in terminal one, is narrow and barren. That bus Brian mentioned turns into an escalator, a train, another train, more escalators, and a hallway that requires marathon endurance. When we finally arrive at our gate, the metal seats look as cozy as a love seat by the fire.
Our plane isn’t there yet. Usually this would worry me but not today – I’m eager to drag out our stay, not ready to let go of hopes unreached. I open my book.
“There is the terminal we came from,” Brian says, looking out the window past the expanse of airplanes and airline equipment.
“I could have read five chapters in the time it took us to get here.” I find my page but then see a sign for coffee. They might also have tea. I could end our trip with one hand holding a book, the other a latte. No worries that we’re in an airport. I won’t likely find a quieter place in China.
I approach the counter and order then wrap my hands around two warm cups and enjoy their comfort. Returning to our seats I prepare to reenter the story world. But as I approach my smile changes to mirror Brian’s look of panic. “Two of our suitcases are gone,” he says as I hand him his coffee.
“What?” My eyes jump to the kids’ anxious looks, to our shrunken cluster of carry-ons.
“What should we do?” As I say this I think something is amiss but I can’t tell you what – growing tension blocks logic. I look at my husband, seated. Is this for real?
He grins and I’m surrounded by the song of our kids’ laughter. I’m glad to see their smiles burst forth, even at my expense.
“If they were gone you would have jumped out of your seat to do something.” I feel my reason returning, too late.
“Everyone on the flight has a carry-on so they asked to check a few of ours.”
I settle in beside him, feeling a little lighter with a smile.
The plane is here now but certainly they will want time to tidy it, certainly I will get to read, certainly a few minutes here will offer the relaxation I need. I watch steam swirl up from my cup. I’ll let it cool a minute. I open my book and the announcement blares.
*
“It’s time to board,” my son says and jumps up.
“Already?” Brian and our kids move into the line but I lag. What about slowing down the return to regular responsibility? At least I can sip my latte and read on the flight. I catch up to Brian.
“They will let us take our drinks on, right?” I say.
“Yeah, we bought them after security.”
Brian is drinking his coffee but I decide to save mine for the flight. As the line progresses an airline employee approaches us and says, “Drink those, quickly.”
“We can’t take them on?”
”Either finish them or hide them in your bags.” He whispers his response. I imagine my family of five bumping down the airplane’s aisle while I balance a cup of tea inside my purse. I opt to chug it. Brian does the same. He finishes first and hands an attendant our pile of passports. Wait. I didn’t buy a tea just to drink it. I bought it to relax. I bought it to maximize the final minutes of our trip. “It’s still a treat,” I tell myself but as I force it down I feel my stomach inflate.
Brian and the kids are disappearing down the ramp and the couple that was behind me is now before me. I surrender my cup. I follow my family.
*