Chapter Seven #3
I pulled two tubs from the stack and set them on the metal table and took my shoes off, placing them inside and scooting my tub along every once in a while.
The guy next to me, around my age and just as punk Goth, placed his tub down next to mine.
Our eyes met for a moment and he didn’t pretend not to see me like everyone else.
He tipped his head in silent “Hello” and grinned, even though I could see that he was the dangerous sort.
I caught myself smiling back and stopped, trying to pay attention.
I calmly placed my duffle bag and purse in one tub and set it on the conveyer belt, silently watching it disappear.
I hurried to take my watch and belt off – why didn’t people start undressing in line earlier?
- dropping them in with my shoes since I had seen the person in front of me not use the little tubs.
I was starting to hold up the line with my two tubs instead of one.
“Ten bucks says we get selected for random screening or a trip the metal detector,” Goth guy murmured quietly behind me.
Was he talking to me? I glanced back. Yep, he was staring right at me.
“Random screening?” I asked, keeping an eye on the family going slowly through the detector.
“Yeah. Random, but not so random. I always get chosen or something on my clothes sets off their alarms.” He shrugged and grinned—but I was pretty sure I detected a slight Russian accent.
Just the tiniest bit most would miss. “So, you want to take that bet? I did say both of us have to be taken aside. Not just me.”
I watched a mom and dad go through just fine. Why wouldn’t I, too?
“Sure. You’re on.” I nodded.
“Easy money,” he murmured.
I furtively rubbed the sweat off my palms when the guard motioned for me to step through. Slowly, like everyone else, I walked through as the guard watched me. It beeped.
“Please, step back,” the guard asked/ordered in a strict monotone voice. “I need you to go through again.”
Oh, Lord.
I turned and walked back through, and Goth guy smirked at me. I patted my pockets, there were a lot of them, but nothing was there. The guard motioned for me to walk back through.
Faking calm, I walked through at a snail’s pace.
It beeped, again.
“Miss, I need you to step right over there,” the guard strict voice instructed, while he pointed to a grey pad with black footprints painted on it. He waved to a female guard and hollered, “Female assist needed.”
I felt my face redden, but did exactly as he had instructed.
I walked the few feet to the grey pad and placed my pink socked feet right over the black footprints.
The female was heading my way as I watched Goth guy go through.
It beeped. I heard the guard mumble something about “random” and point to an enclosed glass area.
Goth guy nodded and strolled to it, smiling at me and pinching his thumb and index finger together, rubbing them up and down.
I nodded graciously to my defeat. Yeah, I owed the guy money, but I was really worried about the blank-faced drone of a woman almost on me.
I held still, waiting, trying not to fiddle with my clothes.
“Do you have anything in your pockets, miss?” she asked, stepping in front of me.
“No.” I kept it simple.
“Okay, I’m going to need you to put your arm straight out from your side,” she stated and I did as she ordered. “Now, I’m going to move this wand around your person to see what set off the detector.” Her expression never changed from drone version.
She appeared to need my consent, since she didn’t move to do what she stated, so I said, “Okay.”
Like that was the magic word, she moved, waving a long black stick all around me. It beeped at my chest.
She stared. “It’s probably the buttons on your sweater. Can you remove it for me, please?”
Oh, no-no-no-no-no. I blushed tomato red in an instant. She watched me. I think I stood there silent for too long because her eyes actually shifted from drone state to a semblance of interest. Somehow, I didn’t think that was a good thing.
I nodded quickly and unbuttoned it, praying I didn’t get hauled off to jail for wearing my darn bomb shirt here. This was already getting out of hand. Who knows what they would do with someone who practically had a threat written on their chest. Lord help me.
I tugged it off as calmly as I could. I heard Goth guy laugh loud as another guard came and took it from me. I watched as he placed it in a tub and send it through the x-ray machine. I turned back to my drone guard.
But…she was no longer a drone. Her whole body was shaking, her face turning as red as mine, as she stared at my chest. Past her, I could see Goth guy bent over, still laughing, where a guard stood with a little circular white pad in his hand, paused like he was about to do something, but now he stared at my chest too, his head shaking back and forth in disgust. My guard wasn’t disgusted, though.
She was starting to gurgle from holding back her laughter.
Wonderful. Well, at least it wasn’t jail.
“Please hold out your arms, again,” she sputtered, eyes watering.
I did as she bayed. After that, it went without a hitch. No more beeps for me.
She waved me away, telling me in stops and starts I could get my items that had collected at the end of the metal table on this side.
I rushed over and grabbed my sweater, yanking it on and buttoning it up lickety-split.
Better. I grabbed my duffle and purse, slung them over my shoulder and grabbed the other bin with my other junk in it.
I walked a few feet to the benches and sat down watching Goth guy pass some sort of hand swipe test while I put on my shoes, belt, and watch.
I was fishing a ten-spot out of my purse when he strolled over, holding his bin. He was smiling and shaking his head at me. I held up a stopping hand when he opened his mouth.
He laughed and continued anyway, sitting down next to me, “That was the funniest damned thing I’ve seen in a long time.”
“I’m glad I could amuse you,” I murmured, standing up. “Here’s your winnings.” I held out the money.
He shook his head. “It wouldn’t feel right.
You’re obviously new at this.” He smiled sweetly when I finally nodded, conceding I was a newbie.
“Word to the wise, if you don’t want to get pulled aside, don’t wear clothes like we do.
Or more specifically, awesome fucking shirts like you’ve got on.
” He stood up, done with dressing. “Look, I’ve got almost two hours before my flight takes off.
Do you want to grab a cup of coffee or a sandwich with me? ”
I blink. And stared. Oh, goodness. I was getting hit on. Where the heck was my group?
I scanned the vast area and finally saw them past the roped off area of the security check point. I wondered how far they had gotten by the time they had noticed I wasn’t there. My eyebrows burrowed. I didn’t really like that thought.
“I’m sorry, I can’t. My group is waiting for me over there.” I pointed in their direction.
He looked over. And around. “Where?”
“Right, there. The lady and four men.” I jerked my head in their direction without pointing this time.
He looked right at them for a long moment, his eyes steady and perusing – not intimidated, and then back to me, where he looked me up and down. Finally, he murmured, “Why?”
I felt my face fall. That one word, said by a stranger, spoke aloud all of my previous worries.
“Here, seriously take this. You earned it,” I said softly and stuck the cash back out to him. He took it, but I only think he did so to make me feel better. “It was nice to meet you and thanks for the offer. Happy random pickings in the future.”
His lips quirked up and he lifted up a hand to stop me from moving away. He dug in his pocket and held out a business card. “Call me if you’re ever in Las Vegas, Shirt Girl.”
I took it, just as he had taken my cash. “Sure thing, Random Guy.”
He walked backward for a moment before twisting and heading out of the roped area opposite of the crew.
I put his card in my pocket and searched for my ear buds and MP3 player.
I didn’t want to talk to the people who had forgotten all about me.
I’d had more of a conversation with a stranger than I’d had with them for the previous hour.
I found them in the zippered pocket and stuck them in quick, turning PINK on full blast and clipping in on my sweater.
I moved to my group warily, watching them while PINK shouted in my ears about not feeling less than perfect.
They were all wearing carefully blank faces.
They must have gotten pretty darn far to look like that.
When I stepped outside the rope, I took a bud out so I talked normally, not screamed, and stated, “I have no clue where I’m going. So lead the way.” I put the bud back in and gestured for them to move along.
When Brent opened his mouth to speak – even though I never would have heard him over my music – I suddenly found my purse interesting, looking into it and finding my ticket I had stashed there. By the time I glanced up, they were moving. Good. They got the friggin’ point.
***
I was stuck in a seat between a squalling infant sitting on an exhausted moms lap and a guy that was snoring before everyone had even taken their seats. The “crew” were sitting in first class – which was full – and Ally was sitting somewhere ahead of me. And I was scared out of my mind.
I had kept my cool up until this point, but flying had always frightened me.
The thought of being suspended in the air, nothing below, didn’t do anything for me, other than freak me the heck out.
My seatbelt was already buckled and my purse was under the seat in front of me and my duffle had been put in the overhead compartment by the flight attendant.
I was set to go. And didn’t really want to.
Driving seemed like a much better idea right now.
I closed my eyes.
I only opened them to listen devotedly to the flight attendant when she went through her spiel about floatation devices and masks falling from above.
And to my utter joy - so not - I found out I was in the aisle for the emergency door.
I gawked at it. It just didn’t seem right to have a door that actually opens on an airplane less than two feet away from me.
Shouldn’t that be against flying law or something?
My eyes stayed shut when the plane started moving. And when they kept taking turns, way too sharply, in my opinion, my teeth clenched. The real kicker was when the elusive “captain” – I sure as heck never saw him - said they were clear for lift off. I freaked.
I raised my hand. I wanted off this darn death trap. It just wasn’t right.
No one came, so I pressed the call button the kind flight attendant had mentioned. It didn’t light up. What? Where parts of the plane malfunctioning? I mean if a little button didn’t work, who’s to say the larger – more important – parts would? Oh, Lord.
It was too late.
We started moving.
I was thrust back into my seat as the plane sped faster and faster. The nose tipped up. Oh. My. Goodness. The tail end left the ground. Holy. Crap. On. A. Stick!
I squeezed my eyes shut and asked the good Lord to watch over me. Amen and thank you in advance.