Chapter 86
“Oh that’s fun, they have spam musubi on the flight,” he says, pointing at his phone screen. “Popular Hawaiian treat.”
We play a backlog of Wordles, then Connections, then Spelling Bee, then stretch our legs and finally the flight starts to board. Military personnel first, then passengers with disabilities, then women with young children, then group A. We’re D and the lines are long, so it’s gonna take a sec.
“I’m gonna pee real quick,” I say.
“Alright, hurry.”
I take my suitcase with me so I can touch up my makeup and head to the nearest restroom.
I shut myself in the handicap stall for some privacy and go to spread my makeup out on the sink so I can gloss and pat and powder and conceal and brighten and fix but the sink is dirty so I don’t do any of it.
Instead I just look at myself in the mirror.
My phone pings. Boarding group B, we’ll be any minute now. :)
I spread a flimsy toilet seat cover onto the toilet and half of it falls into the bowl, the same way they always do, so I sit on the half that stayed and piss. It’s a long stream. A hardy stream. A juicy stream.
My phone pings again. Okay boarding group C. Come on, baby. We’re goin’ to Hawaii!
I wash my hands at the sink, taking my time, using two pumps of that universal pink soap that smells like bubblegum and baby powder. I lather the soap and sniff it. This soap is family.
Another ping. Hurry up so we don’t lose the cabin space for our bags!!
I wave my hand under the paper towel dispenser but it doesn’t work. Those things never work the first time. I wave again. And again. Finally, a paper towel, only my hands are half dry by now for all the waving it took to get one.
Ping. They’re on group D and they might start checking bags soon…where you at?
I go to reply, to tell him I’ll be there in a sec, but my body won’t let me.
It’s frozen. I try to override it, to shove my body’s instincts down.
Tell them to be more quiet. Be more right-sized.
Be more appropriate and more reasonable and less of a nuisance.
Only I can’t. And beyond that, I don’t want to.
Because my body knows more than I do. My body’s instincts are loud.
And they’re right. And they’re appropriate and reasonable and they are not a nuisance.
They are wise. They are giving me all the information I need.
I put my hand on my heart. My tender, sensitive, strong, roaring heart, and I thank it.
I leave the restroom, rolling my suitcase behind me, and I walk in the opposite direction of the gate, toward the exit to the airport.
I walk past restaurants and candy shops, perfume stores and clothing boutiques, and I don’t look at anything. I walk past it all.