SERIAL FICTION

Excited And Ready For Her Trip

Shadows Of Mayday #3: Cathy #2: She checks in at the airport and gets ready to board

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Their feelings of ‘being in love’ deepened to love as time passed. In each other, they found a soul mate.

It could still go wrong when they met in real life, but neither of them worried about that. Their long distance relationship was good and solid. They rushed nothing and made no overhasty decisions. Both felt they were meant to be together.

It was written in the stars, they often said.

Soon they would hold each other for the first time, eat together, sleep together and have fun together.

Back in the bedroom, she deliberately and methodically packed her suitcase. An hour later, her packed suitcase stood in the corner and her room was tidy again. Cathy’s eyes turned to the laptop. She checked the time on the golden watch she wore around her wrist.

“No, Cath, it’s time to get to bed! The more sleep you get, the better!”

In the bathroom, she took a quick shower, brushed her teeth, and returned to the bedroom. She slipped under the covers naked and switched off the light. In the dark, she smiled as she thought about the adventure she was embarking on.

Finally, she would meet him!

Cathy’s alarm sounded at three the next morning. An hour later, her doorbell rang.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” she said to the taxi driver when she opened the door.

He took her big blue trolley suitcase with him and returned to the car to wait. One last round through her apartment assured Cathy all lights were out, and she had removed the plugs of all electrical appliances from the wall sockets.

She picked up the bag she used as hand luggage and stepped outside, double-locking the front door behind her. Cathy walked to the taxi and gave the waiting driver the bag. He put it in the back with the bigger suitcase while she got into the car. Moments later, he stepped in next to her, behind the steering wheel, and started the fare meter.

“On to the airport,” he said as he pulled away from the curb.

“Yes,” Cathy smiled.

“What time are you flying?”

“Ten minutes past eight,” Cathy answered.

Most of the drive to the airport was quiet, except for the remark about traffic being light so early in the morning, a question about the duration of Cathy’s flight and another about how long before the flight she had to be at the airport.

“I prefer to be too early,” Cathy told the taxi driver, “than to worry about not making it to the airport on time.”

At a quarter past five, Cathy paid the taxi driver. She slung the bag with her hand luggage over her shoulder along with her handbag and walked to the entrance of the airport building, pulling the blue trolley suitcase behind her. Inside the building, she stopped and breathed in deep. There was something about airports that made the blood in her veins flow quicker and her heart beat faster. She smiled and walked to the information screens to see where and when she had to check in.

Forty-five minutes later, filled with coffee and two croissants, Cathy joined the short line at desk 11 to check in for her flight to South Africa. She handed the attendant her ticket and passport and waited.

“You can put your first piece of luggage on the conveyor belt, miss,” the attendant said and smiled at Cathy.

Cathy knew her bag was well within the allowed weight for her flight. The attendant checked the screen, printed a label for the suitcase, and looped it through the handle.

“Do you have more luggage to check in?” the attendant asked. The smile on her face was identical to the earlier smile. It flashed through Cathy’s mind that the fake smile made the woman’s face looked like a mask, while mentioning her other bag was hand luggage.

“Thank you,” Cathy said as the ground attendant pushed her passport, ticket and boarding pass towards her and wished her a pleasant flight.

Since Cathy traveled alone, she went straight to the counter, where a customs officer checked her passport again. The officer glanced at her picture, then at her, closed her passport and pushed it back to her over the counter. Even though she thanked him in a friendly voice, he didn’t respond.

“I guess he can’t wait for his shift to end,” Cathy muttered when she knew he couldn’t hear her anymore.

She walked down the four steps on the other side of the customs cabin and stopped to look around her. There were lights and shops as far as she could see.

This was one of many reasons she loved to be at the airport early — shopping. She loved the tax-free shops, but rarely bought anything there. However, this time, it would be different. She wanted to buy something for him — something special and something she knew he couldn’t get in South Africa.

With time to spare before boarding would start, Cathy walked to the gate. In her hand luggage, she now had a tiny piece of Delftware — a typical Dutch windmill — and speculaas cookies. She was fairly sure he wouldn’t find it in the shops where he lived.

Other passengers already sat in the gate waiting area.

Looking for a seat, Cathy noticed a young couple who were obviously deeply in love with each other. They had their heads close together and exchanged frequent kisses. Cathy smiled and turned her head away.

She found a seat next to an older couple, who had their fingers entwined. Cathy wondered how long they had been together. Across from her sat a man with a grumpy expression on his face. His tousled hair and crooked tie left the impression he had little time to get himself ready for the flight. He stared at the floor in front of him, oblivious of all the other people around him.

Just as Cathy noticed a female couple on her right, the flight attendants appeared at the counter. From experience, Cathy knew they were minutes away from being called to board. She retrieved her passport, ticket and boarding pass from her handbag and held it ready for the moment she needed to present it.

Finally, Cathy thought as she sat down in her assigned seat, 37C. She sat for about five minutes before a man asked her if he could get into his seat, which was 37A. Cathy stood up, let him pass, and sat down again. She knew she would have to get up once more for the passenger who would occupy seat 37B. Would it be a man or a woman? Cathy wondered. It turned out to be an older woman.

“Thank you, dearie,” the gray-haired lady said when she sat, grateful Cathy got up to let her pass. Cathy smiled and nodded.

“May I ask you something?” the woman whispered, leaning closer to Cathy. Without waiting for Cathy to answer, she continued: “Please hold my hand during takeoff and landing? That always makes me so nervous!”

“I will,” Cathy said and smiled. She didn’t mind this request. If that was the way to make the takeoff and landing easier for this old lady, she would gladly hold her hand.

The plane filled up quick and soon they were ready to taxi towards the runway. The plane moved backwards, away from the terminal building, and turned its nose towards the runway. They joined the line of planes waiting to take off. The ascending planes followed each other with intervals of a few minutes.

Soon Cathy heard and felt the engines of the craft gaining power as the pilot readied it for takeoff. The old lady reached for her hand and held it tight. Cathy glanced at her and saw her sitting with her head against the backrest of the seat, her eyes closed.

The force of the plane moving forward pushed Cathy back into her own seat. She looked out the window and kept her eyes on the grass bordering the runway. Once the grass disappeared, she knew they were airborne.

Continued: Shadows Of Mayday #4

Find all chapters here.

This story is a work of fiction, and the author’s tribute to all victims of air crashes. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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