Falling (19 page)

“Ms. Smiler, but I have a family to take care of. Reid has no other family and I don't think after all she has been through that one day of school in her last year is going to detrimentally harm her schooling career. And if it does, one has to wonder what she has learnt every other year, don't you think?” That sounds like something aunt Kelly would say.

“Well that may be the case, but we have the same policy for all our students. Still, in the name of being rational, I will on this one occasion excuse her early. It will be one occasion only.” Ms Smiler says.

“Thank you so much. You certainly have made everything a lot easier.”

“Does Reid need to be dropped off or does she have enough money to get to the airport? It can only be via taxi. A teacher will see her to it, and she will have to phone when she gets to your house.”

“No, that's fine. I have sent Reid enough to cover the fare. Thank you so much again for all your help. I really do appreciate it.” I hang up, firming my plan as I walk to the bus stop up the street. I don't want to go anywhere near the library.

I pull my spare backpack out of the closet Sara and I share and start throwing in things I think I will need. I'm not sure where I am going yet, I just need to go away from everyone I know.

Sara squeezes one eye open. “Reid, it's four something in the morning. Go to sleep. You can pack tonight or after school, or any other time really.”

“I'm going now. The taxi will be here in a couple of minutes. Have fun at home. I'll see you when you get back.”

“Are you all right, Reid? Did you see Keller?” She struggles to sit up right.

“Nope.”

“Did you see Megan? Did she say something?”

“Nope.

“Reid, what's up?”

“Nothing. I just have to get to the airport.” I force out as much of a smile as I can, but it doesn’t really matter, she can’t really see me with only my lamp on. I can’t tell her what I'm doing, I don't want people to have to lie for me.

I walk out and shut the door behind me. “Bye,” I whisper as I run for the front door.

Miss Kite is waiting for me when I get to the entrance talking with the taxi driver. “Have a good break Reid.” She says when she sees me.

“Thanks Miss Kite, you too.” She waits until we are moving down the street before she goes back inside.

We slip through the dark sleeping streets with my head to the side watching lights move past me.

I wind the window down the full length, keeping my head to the side. I close my eyes and breathe deeply. Even though I can't see anyone through the darkness, there are sounds of people living. I move my head closer to the window, letting my eyes rove into the darkness, trying to pick movements to match the sounds.

“You alright?” The driver asks nervously. “You’re not going to be sick back there?”

I sit up. “Oh. No. I just like the smell.” He laughs in surprise.

The smell of really early morning is like the smell you get when you get to an airport. It’s alive. It's a giant room of living, breathing movement. Everyone is there for something. Nothing at an airport is stuck. Nothing stays the same.

I can’t stay the same. I gaze out the window, letting the cold air dry my eyes.

The driver starts humming to himself, the soft music he’s listening to isn’t in English. I don’t understand it, but somehow it’s comforting.

“Where are you going to?” He asks when he sees me looking at him in the rear-view mirror.

“My aunt’s house.” I lie.

“That sounds very good.” He says.

“Yeah.” I close my eyes with my face toward the open window.

I can feel the nervous tension in my body lessening the closer we get. Every minute driving is another minute closer to being free. I won't have to see anyone I know. I don't even have to be Reid, just some girl at the airport.

Finally the terminal building moves into view, lit up like an interstate truck rolling out of town at dusk. I push myself up in my seat to look out the windscreen. I can't help but smile.

The driver watches me in the mirror. “You will have a good time with your aunt?”

“I will.”

He stops right outside the doors to the entrance, and I watch out the window as a little girl hops out the way of the baggage trolley, her dad is trying to move faster but his luggage is sloping to the side.

“Run. James! Push it that way. You are going to run Paige over.” The girls’ mum says to her dad.

“Grab it,” James calls back, pointing and the lady swoops down and shoves the suitcase roughly on the top of the stack before it squashes the back of the girl’s leg.

“Run. We’ve only got five minutes to get down there,” she calls over her shoulder while she tugs the little girl forward.

“Miss?” The driver asks me.

“Sorry.” I say, handing my money to the driver, one leg out of the car, not taking my eyes off the family trying to make their flight.

“Have a good trip Miss.”

“Thank you, I will.” But my legs have already taken over from my brain, and the moment I’m out of the car I'm rushing after them.

The mother sprints to the empty line, pushing the girl forward. She stops and runs back to the dad, grabs the tickets and passports then runs back to the counter, thrusting them at the check-in girl.

“Please tell me we haven't missed it?” She gasps.

I can taste it. Freedom.

“You’ve got about two minutes. Get the suitcases up here and run.” The dad hears and piles the suitcases up. One in each hand, launching them onto the scales. The stickers print and the check-in girl slaps one on everything that is pushed in her direction.

She prints their boarding pass, hands them over. “Go.” She points in the direction of the departures gate and they are running. I move away with them, keeping my distance, it’s all gone. I feel absolutely nothing. I glance at the board anyway, they are going to Rarotonga. I duck into the bathroom when the mother turns around and looks at me, pulling the girl tighter into her side. I lock myself into a stall when I hear people walk in.

“London. I cannot believe it.”

“I know,” a second voice squeaks with excitement.

“We are going to London.” The first voice says again. It sounds like she’s shaking the other person.

“We are going to find ourselves a hot Scottish guy, too.”

“I don't care where he comes from, as long as he has that accent.” They both sigh.

“Come on, let's just go down. We'll do some duty-free shopping instead of waiting up here.”

I pretend to be finished and walk out so I can see them. They don't look any older than me. I follow them out of the bathroom trying to find the pull toward them. But they jump on the escalator to go down to the departures area before I can get close enough to feel anything.

I change direction suddenly and go to the arrivals area, shrugging off the depressed feeling that is creeping back in. I was close enough to feel the pull, it just wasn’t there. I loose Keller over it and now I can’t even escape with it.

I chose a cafe closest to one of the arrival gates and find a seat on the edge of the seating area so I can see people coming in.

“Smith H, W, A and P, your flight is boarding to Auckland, New Zealand. Please report to your gate immediately.” The announcer calls, but I can barely hear it over the crowd. There must be at least a couple of hundred people packed in here.

“Can I get you anything?” A voice I can't see asks me. I look around and a hand waves at me from behind two people.

“Ah, yeah. A hot chocolate would be great. Thanks.” It's only four forty-five in the morning. I don't feel like eating anything yet.

The crowd crushes in around me as a flight’s arrival is announced, shoving my chair into the table. On the other side of me people lean into my chair. I stand up quickly, trying to get out of the way of all the people, but it's impossible. They are leaning in whatever direction I go.

“Here you go.” The same hand passes me my cup. Thankfully they put it in a to-go cup. I hand my smallest note over.

“Keep the change.” I extract myself from the cafe, circling the edge of the crowd to find another spot to watch the people arriving.

A small group amble out of the gate trying not to look conscious of all the people watching them. I step closer to the crowd, feeling the hum of anticipation coming from it, going up on my tip toes to see what is happening at the front.

There is just an older guy, looking around and a young couple slowly edging around the gate behind him.

A teeny little girl in a yellow sun dress bursts through the crowd, her tiny voice silencing hundreds of adults in a second. “Gand da!”

The old man snaps his head in her direction, just in time to reach out and scoop her up, her golden hair bouncing as she swings up into his arms.

I take another step. Now I’m in the crowd.

A women steps out, grasping the old man around the waist and crushing him in to her. “Good to see you, dad.”

“Gand da. I got new dess.” The little girl holds up a fist full of yellow fabric, showing him.

They get swallowed up as girls’ softball team surges out around them.

People slowly begin peeling off the edges of the main crowd as they find the people they came to meet. I take more steps loosing myself deeper in the crowd I’d just tried to avoid.

A man slinks his way through the group from my other side, pushing himself into any gap that opens up, trying to fit himself and the massive piece of cardboard he is holding. He pauses just behind me, and then looks over the top of all the heads. He leans forward trying to get closer, but he can't find a path through all the bodies that are packed tight. Everybody is pressing forward; everyone wants to be on the edge of the gate.

“Catherine. Catherine.” A man stops in the middle of the exit. “Catherine.” His voice comes out unsteady.

A woman throws herself out of the group, launching herself toward him. He catches her as she starts shuddering. He holds her off the ground so that their heads are at the same level. “Nathan. I just ...”

Her voice cuts out as he reaches to touch her face. Then he kisses her, ignoring the hundreds of people watching. Someone whistles long and loud. Nathan lifts his hand to wave at whoever did it without removing his mouth from Catherine’s. No one speaks except for a line of little kids, who are trying not to watch. Then Nathan pulls away and starts laughing, taking Catherine’s hand and tows her away from the crowd. She attaches to his arm, tears streaming down her face, and they disappear.

The guy with the cardboard jumps up on a bench to the side of me, thrusting the cardboard open shouting, “Chelsea.”

I jump back and step on the girl behind me. “Sorry.” I say quietly to the girl and her dad, my eyes riveted to the guy with the cardboard. I can't see anything in front of him, the cardboard is so big it covers most of me.

I just make out a girl's voice saying, “Huh?” Then a few seconds later the same female voice says, “Scott, is that you? Oh my goodness, that is so sweet.”

The guy with the cardboard laughs, jumping down from the bench and the crowd moves out of his way so he can get to her.

He drops the cardboard, swinging her up to him with one arm.

“I can’t believe you came.” She beams.

“I told you I would.” He grins back and they move away hand in hand. I follow them with my eyes and the further away they move from me the more of their happiness they take with them.

The stream of people coming out gets faster and more people leave the crowd as they find the people they came for.

Each person that moves away takes their little piece of happy, and I can’t feel any of the excited anticipation that was here a minute ago. I feel hollow again.

I walk away from the crowd that is left. Happy people are gross. I need someone who is miserable.

I avoid all eye contact on my way across the terminal. Half way across the building and I can feel someone looking at me. My eyes lift off the ground in automatic response. A guy just a bit older than me smiles. I should smile back, but I don't want to. Not that guy. I look at his face as I pass. The smile slides off in response to the look on mine.

I stop in front of the departures gate, getting a seat close to the gates so that I can hear people saying goodbye. I fold my arms onto the table, leaning my head into them, so I look sad and less like I am stalking the crying people, because that would seem weird. And I don't want people to feel weird, they might not cry as much, and I'll have to go somewhere else, and that would be inconvenient.

There’s no one for a few minutes, then slowly a pair of footsteps gets closer. A tiny step every thirty seconds. Good, they are all sad and don't want to leave each other.

I can’t hear anything they are saying. I would look up, but people tend to be creeped out by people wanting to listen to them cry while saying goodbye to the people they love. Don't know why.

I drop my head further toward my arm closest to the edge of the table, trying to see up and under my other arm.

I shift my head slightly and sniff like I am trying to hide my own tears. The sniffing seems to encourage them.

“I'm going to miss you so much,” she says.

“I know, babes, but I'll be back in three days.”

Three days? Move along people. I want real sadness. Not three measly days of “I love you more, no I love you more,” said in that sappy puppy-voice. I want to feel like I am not alone in my misery, I shout in my head. I know it’s horrible and completely unhealthy, but I do. I want to know that I am not the only person who feels the way I do.

“Call me when you land.” She says.

“Yeah, I will babes. But I gotta go. I’m going to miss my flight.”

“That wouldn't be so bad,” she says, holding her foot over his.

“Yeah, it would be. Look I will miss you, but I really have to go.”

“You say that like you don't even care that you are going away,” she whines.

“Amber, you know I care. But come on. I have to go.”

“No, you want to go.” I groan internally, this is just sad.

“You're right, I do. So I'll see you when I get back.”