Joe
Junior
- Aug 4, 2018
- 563
Claire Randall-Gabaldon, M.D., lounged on the sky-blue plastic seat, already resigned to the fact that her butt was going to be permanently devoid of any feeling for the remainder of her life. Another delay, she thought in dismay. She looked at the harried gate agent, exhausted from the huge line of angry passengers who just wanted to go home. Claire had not even bothered rising from her seat as soon as she heard the news. In fact, she reveled in it. All the passengers in her area had stood up and immediately gone to form a queue, allowing her to stretch out for the first time in hours. The only reason she was even remotely upset was that she didn't even know why. The sleek, new Boeing was fueled and ready to go at the gate. The weather outside of John F. Kennedy International Airport was perfect, the sky a beautiful sky-blue without even a hint of a cloud.
Why couldn't they fly?
"Oh thank god," A young girl said nearby, making Claire look up. "I thought we were going to make you both late."
Claire's eyes nearly bugged out of her head as she saw the most dysfunctional family of four walk into the gate, breathless from the brisk walk. The parents were gigantic, over six feet. The father was stocky, blonde, and the features hidden by his business suit hinted at bulging muscles and pure strength. The mother had over a foot on Claire, radiating an aura of elegance that made Claire envious. The children accompanying the pair were a different race entirely, the both of them East Asian by the looks of it. The teenage girl was clutching onto a violin case as if her life depended on it. Her younger brother had his hands on his knees, panting.
Two plus two didn't make four, in this case.
"They wouldn't take off without us," A man laughed. "There was no need to worry, Elena."
"We're still sorry that you went through security with us. That line was horrid." Elena grumbled.
"The pleasure was ours," The mother said, before her eyes clouded in worry. "I still feel terrible that they delayed the flight for us..."
"There was nothing that we could do. We insisted that we change our flight time to accommodate the end of the recital, but the Consulate was not having it," The man replied regretfully. He turned to the two children. "Where's Inspector Nguyen?"
"Bar." The two children said at the same time, causing the two adults to laugh.
"Of course," The man said, cracking a smile. "We never did have our drinking contest."
"Which you'd win, surely." Elena said. "Nguyen is a one-shot wonder."
The woman made to respond, but an announcement over the loudspeaker rang throughout the gate.
"2:30 PM Flight 2748 to Ho Chi Minh City is now Boarding. Please make your way to Gate 28B."
"I guess that's for you," The woman said sadly.
"That it is indeed," Elena responded before holding out her arms and hugging the woman. "Thank you... for everything."
"The pleasure was all mine," The woman said, holding onto the girl tightly. "I promise, we'll come visit very soon. We'll write, call, and video chat! You have my private phone number... anytime you want to talk, please call and relieve me on my monotonous existence."
"I will," Elena giggled.
Claire's eyes turned to the young man and the boy, who were tightly clutching onto each other's forearms in a handshake.
"Remember Khang," The man said, smiling. "Eat lots of food... run lots of miles... and lift lots of weights. Keep on studying and you'll be in the Military Academy in no time. Don't worry about your Dad... do what you want to do. It takes a special kind of man to want to serve his country. If you ever have any trouble or need a point in the right direction, you know who to call."
"I will, sir." Khang said, nodding his head furiously. "I'll do my best, I promise."
The man clapped him on the shoulder. "Good man. I'll see you very soon, you have my word."
"Now, off you two go. Don't be late to your flight... your mom would kill us." The woman said tearfully, after giving Khang a tight embrace. "Keep yourselves busy, okay?"
"See you," Elena said sadly. "We'll miss you."
We say goodbye daily. Goodbye to our coworkers, goodbye to the spouse when we leave for work. It's instinctual, something that is deeply ingrained in our lexicon, so ingrained and so used that it's easy to say goodbye. But, sometimes, just sometimes, a goodbye is the hardest thing to do. Goodbye isn't a farewell, it's a hello to an uncertain future where you don't know if your paths will ever cross ever again. Claire watched as they gave each other last good byes and the two children departed, walking further and further away, their heads high but shoulders trembling. Claire followed them with her gaze until she was sure they wouldn't turn back, but right before they rounded the terminal and entered the mass of travelers, they stopped and raised their hands in farewell. Then, they took another step and vanished from sight.
The end.
Why couldn't they fly?
"Oh thank god," A young girl said nearby, making Claire look up. "I thought we were going to make you both late."
Claire's eyes nearly bugged out of her head as she saw the most dysfunctional family of four walk into the gate, breathless from the brisk walk. The parents were gigantic, over six feet. The father was stocky, blonde, and the features hidden by his business suit hinted at bulging muscles and pure strength. The mother had over a foot on Claire, radiating an aura of elegance that made Claire envious. The children accompanying the pair were a different race entirely, the both of them East Asian by the looks of it. The teenage girl was clutching onto a violin case as if her life depended on it. Her younger brother had his hands on his knees, panting.
Two plus two didn't make four, in this case.
"They wouldn't take off without us," A man laughed. "There was no need to worry, Elena."
"We're still sorry that you went through security with us. That line was horrid." Elena grumbled.
"The pleasure was ours," The mother said, before her eyes clouded in worry. "I still feel terrible that they delayed the flight for us..."
"There was nothing that we could do. We insisted that we change our flight time to accommodate the end of the recital, but the Consulate was not having it," The man replied regretfully. He turned to the two children. "Where's Inspector Nguyen?"
"Bar." The two children said at the same time, causing the two adults to laugh.
"Of course," The man said, cracking a smile. "We never did have our drinking contest."
"Which you'd win, surely." Elena said. "Nguyen is a one-shot wonder."
The woman made to respond, but an announcement over the loudspeaker rang throughout the gate.
"2:30 PM Flight 2748 to Ho Chi Minh City is now Boarding. Please make your way to Gate 28B."
"I guess that's for you," The woman said sadly.
"That it is indeed," Elena responded before holding out her arms and hugging the woman. "Thank you... for everything."
"The pleasure was all mine," The woman said, holding onto the girl tightly. "I promise, we'll come visit very soon. We'll write, call, and video chat! You have my private phone number... anytime you want to talk, please call and relieve me on my monotonous existence."
"I will," Elena giggled.
Claire's eyes turned to the young man and the boy, who were tightly clutching onto each other's forearms in a handshake.
"Remember Khang," The man said, smiling. "Eat lots of food... run lots of miles... and lift lots of weights. Keep on studying and you'll be in the Military Academy in no time. Don't worry about your Dad... do what you want to do. It takes a special kind of man to want to serve his country. If you ever have any trouble or need a point in the right direction, you know who to call."
"I will, sir." Khang said, nodding his head furiously. "I'll do my best, I promise."
The man clapped him on the shoulder. "Good man. I'll see you very soon, you have my word."
"Now, off you two go. Don't be late to your flight... your mom would kill us." The woman said tearfully, after giving Khang a tight embrace. "Keep yourselves busy, okay?"
"See you," Elena said sadly. "We'll miss you."
We say goodbye daily. Goodbye to our coworkers, goodbye to the spouse when we leave for work. It's instinctual, something that is deeply ingrained in our lexicon, so ingrained and so used that it's easy to say goodbye. But, sometimes, just sometimes, a goodbye is the hardest thing to do. Goodbye isn't a farewell, it's a hello to an uncertain future where you don't know if your paths will ever cross ever again. Claire watched as they gave each other last good byes and the two children departed, walking further and further away, their heads high but shoulders trembling. Claire followed them with her gaze until she was sure they wouldn't turn back, but right before they rounded the terminal and entered the mass of travelers, they stopped and raised their hands in farewell. Then, they took another step and vanished from sight.
The end.