Chapter One #2
I was only half listening when the flight attendant smiled and held her hand out for what I’m assuming was my passport.
I looked at her hand for a moment, thinking to reach into the pocket of the jeans that looked better on the mannequin when I’d decided to steal them, before my memory caught up to me.
I turned to the officer who had it last, but he was busy fantasizing about me in an orange jumpsuit and a jail riot.
“It is not your job to understand anything above your pay grade… officer Harrison.” The commissioner’s eyes flickering to his name tag before plucking my poor excuse of a passport out of his hands and turning to the poor woman who was being rushed by her colleague to avoid a late departure, if the static voice coming out of her two-way radio was anything to go by.
“No need to check with this one, get him on that flight.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, but–” She went to argue before glancing at his tag and promptly falling silent.
He made a show of turning to walk away before seeming to remember something and turned back to face me. “Well then, I’ve been asked to personally see to you getting on that flight, so…”
When I made no move to start walking, standing in between the counter and the three men watching me, he lifted his arm and looked down at his watch impatiently, a scowl growing with every passing second. “Well… Get on with it, then.”
It wasn’t that I was eager for trouble, only that despite the cues hinting otherwise, I didn’t believe I would be let off with results like these.
Whoever called a government official to oversee my getting on this flight may be a very powerful person, but no one I could recall being in such a position was indebted to me in any way.
I didn’t exactly go around saving lives in between my time sleeping in underpasses and partaking in petty crimes.
“Can I get my passport back?”
He seemed to be in a rush because he handed back fraudulent documents without a second thought, or maybe he just didn’t care. Either way, my way out was secure, and I wasn’t going anywhere without at least some form of documentation, no matter how useless.
The warm and slightly textured cover was shoved into my hand like he couldn’t wait to get rid of it, the gold lettering glinting under the lights.
I curled my hand around the stiff cover and shoved it into my pocket before taking a step back, still eyeing the trio watching me.
Only two, however, sneered–both for different reasons.
The flight attendant, watching the scene unfold with less than discreet eyes, began to busy herself with packing the rest of her belongings before placing her lanyard around her neck and following me onto the bridge to the plane.
As if in a movie, I expected them to take a step towards me for every step I took away. Maybe the commissioner had gotten it wrong, and he’d realize I was truly meant to be out on the streets or locked up. Whichever one caused him less of a headache.
When I was one hundred percent sure this wasn’t a test of some sort, I glanced at Harrison with a loaded smirk, not able to let go of the arrogance in my gut. “I’ll have my dinner on the plane,” I called out.
His lips curled and parted, but I was already turning and walking away, passing the lost attendant whose gaze bounced from me to the officers in wary confusion. She smiled nonetheless as I slid past her, trying to put as much space between me and the life I was leaving behind.
Despite the growing distance, I could still hear Harrison’s protests.
“Sir, that passport is not valid; he shouldn’t be allowed to–”
He was effectively cut off, however, and that made me smile. The commissioner’s voice was rough from clear fatigue, and with a tone of finality, he said, “I drove in from Washington. You are the last to enlighten me on what should and shouldn’t be allowed.”
His voice turned accusingly, “A happy miracle he arrived early. God help you if he missed that plane.”
It wasn’t that I arrived early out of wary anticipation, but rather that there was nowhere else for me to go without purpose. I had a reason to be at the airport, and it was a warm building with security that would allow me a few hours of blissful sleep.
He’d said something else, but I’d walked too far to catch it, turning the corner as the sound of the plane’s engines muffled anything else said.
I shivered at the crack between the jetway and the plane that let in the chilly night air, quickly embarking to avoid the regret of having not stolen a thicker jacket as well.
It was a bad habit, but the only one I’d kept out of necessity. That wasn’t entirely true, though it was the only one that I found to be the most useful.
Of all the trinkets I’d stolen out of self-indulgence, I pawned most of them to get my hands on items I couldn’t exactly rely on my kleptomania for.
Though, the gold-accented pen and small Lalique sculpture were still in my possession.
I was glad I’d made it this far without running out of my collection.
However, something told me I’d be holding onto those last two for a little while longer.
Nothing to spend on when my full year was all-expenses-paid.
The man standing at the door only asked for my boarding pass—not fake—and directed me to my place.
A first-class window seat.
It didn’t take long to place my bag, unfitting amongst the pricey luggage, in the overhead bin and sit down in an exhausted huff.
I’d never left the country, let alone flown on a plane, but the events of today left me feeling indifferent to the nerve-sparking restlessness I thought would be rushing through me.
Truthfully, I didn’t trust that I was getting off scot-free. A part of me was waiting for them to rush onto the plane and haul me off with a pair of handcuffs. Only when the flight began its rumble down the runway did my shoulders remember the tension they’d been carrying and drop.
There was a serious-looking man in the aisle in front of me, dressed in a perfectly fitted suit, busy working on files already out on the tray in front of him when a flight attendant with a pretty smile walked over and asked him to put them away for takeoff.
I watched as he scoffed and raised his eyebrows in disbelief at her words before shoving the tray away with much more force than needed.
I looked away.
A happy couple sat in the middle aisle, a few rows down, only the back of their heads visible from where I sat. There was an air of quiet wealth surrounding them, their mannerism polite as they asked for bottled water or looked at the pamphlets in front of them.
An older woman with a French twist and a serene look sat on the other side of the plane, fussing over her little dog in the seat next to her.
The rest of the plane seemed packed when I’d entered, but this small compartment resembled a ghost town.
I everted my eyes and chose to let my focus drift to what was happening outside.
I felt an epiphany form as I watched the little figures rushing to this gate or that inside the airport, and all the planes departing or having just arrived, a sudden surge of existential reflection. That all these people have lives of their own with stories of their destinations.
It made me wish I’d taken up travelling, had the circumstances ever allowed it.
“Oh. Looks like we’ll be neighbours for the next ten hours.”
A deep voice sounded to my side, and when I turned, expecting to find a conversation between two people, I found a young man speaking to me.
Well, he looked to be in his thirties and in a three-piece suit, but that wasn’t important information to me.
What was a priority, however, was the fact that he was talking to me.
His blue eyes pierced into my soul, unsuccessfully concealed by a kind smile.
I didn’t like people talking to me very much, and he looked like a talker. I’d have preferred he take his place in silence and focus on his own affairs rather than bothering others.
“Seems so.” My eyes analytically roamed over him, and I was sure he was taking offence to what looked like a size-up.
He dropped into his seat with an audible sigh next to me that, for one reason, bothered me.
I was acutely grateful for the small space separating us.
Turning back to face forward, I considered the basket of snacks in the side compartment.
My stomach growled at the prospect of food, no matter how small, in my belly.
The man chuckled. “Someone’s hungry. Didn’t catch–”
“I like flying in silence.” I meant to be blunt, hoping he’d follow the social cues I’d left like crumbs for a dog. He blinked a few times after falling short on his words, but it wasn’t to lubricate his eyes, as the corners pinched.
He was silent only for a few moments, perhaps stunned, before turning his big body to face me. It was clear he worked out, even from over the layers of clothing, I could spy his muscles. “I’m Evan.”
Boring name, but perhaps I wasn’t one to talk.
I looked at the hand he’d held out for a few moments that was sure to make any situation awkward before choosing not to make any more enemies for today. He didn’t seem worth the frustration. “Alexandr.”
“Ah, you’re Russian?”
I tensed.
“Yes. How’d you know?”
He smiled. “The accent. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Names like that have nicknames, no?”
The curl of his lips was eerie, and something told me his extroverted nature was not a coincidence burdened upon me. I didn’t answer, instead looking down at the gold band around his ring finger.
“Sasha. That’s the kind of nickname that belongs to a name like that, no?”
And yet he persists.
I lifted my chin in the hopes that I’d built mental strength off the act alone, and tilted my head, watching as his smile held firm. “You ask a lot of questions.”
“I’m a curious person,” he said with a simple shrug of his shoulders. As if I was not fighting an internal panic at what the next hours would look like.
The flight attendants pulled my attention away from him for the safety presentation, but never fully.
I watched him from the corner of my eye as I buckled my seatbelt.
When they finished and the plane sped up for the takeoff, I curled my hands into fists, the pressure of the lift off the runway pressing me back against my seat, and the heavy noise filling my ears all at once.
It was a strange feeling, one you wanted to end but couldn’t help wanting to remain there, suspended in the moment.
The feeling of the plane’s rough ride under your feet before the lift did nothing to ease my anxiety.
It felt as though I imagined myself floating over my seat by only a hair’s breadth. My own version of an astronaut in space.
I let out a sigh and placed my head against the window, looking out, ignoring the growing headache from the turbulence.
The night sky, once illuminated by the city lights, darkened with every mile farther up until only the blinking wing-light remained in an abyss of darkness.
After forcing myself out of the trance, my eyes slipped closed.
“Not a frequent flyer?”
Dread filled me at topics of conversation he’d conjure up whilst seated next to me. I popped an eye open before opening the other and turned to glare, tired of the subtlety. “That’s none of your concern.”
He leaned back apologetically but didn’t look the least bit genuine. “Sorry, just trying to make conversation.”
I heaved another sigh, hoping, praying that he’d get the signal and back off. I unfastened my seatbelt, feeling it suddenly tight around my waist; it was futile to assume I would get scolded when the light indicating as much flickered off only moments later.
It was a trying feeling, for someone who’s spent the better part of their teenage years running, suddenly enclosing themselves within a metal box now soaring through the sky with no way out.
The events of today, waking up to the cold and heavy rain beating against the weak roof of the bus station before conning my way onto the airtrain taking all passengers to the airport, all on minimal food, really washed away any consciousness left in me.
It wasn’t long before the adrenaline in my body fizzled out of my system, and my eyes were barely able to keep themselves open.
I was weak to the pull of sleep, and the strange man beside me gave me the feeling I shouldn’t let my guard down. Even with so many eyes around. Especially with so many eyes around.
But for once, I let myself be pulled under. And maybe it was because I was too comfortable. The cabin was warm, and the cushions under me, soft. The fleece blanket the flight attendant placed over me, in my state of limbo I noticed, made it even more perfect.
I knew to keep myself awake, vigilant, but the deep slumber waiting for me on the other side was too enticing to ignore.