He was a little hesitant to board the plane. It wasn’t like he had a premonition that the plane would crash or be hijacked. It had everything to do with the trip with Summer still in his head. He had a script about three quarters done and a meeting with three brokers expecting to see a finished product. He shuffled his feet through the terminal and up to security like a toddler who didn’t want to do something but knew there’d be consequences. The consequences, in this case, were undefined, but the numbers being thrown around at what these “newbies” would pay for a solid script from him was no joke.
He found a seat. His Able Abe black messenger bag held his essentials he was carrying onto the plane. He checked his messages on his phone, as he saw his flight was to be delayed. As an avid people watcher, he began watching the variety of people congregated at one time and at one place. It tripped his mind out a little. He imagined where each person was off too and to what business, be it vacation, business, or a secret rendezvous. He watched the families with kids, he watched and watched how they dealt with getting their kids, through the flood of people moving and going from all directions. He saw the business types in suits, BlackBerrys glued to their ears as they brokered high tech deals over the phone. Doing this visual impression kept his mind off the fact that for the past hour his flight status was still delayed.
In the back of his mind, the finishing touches to the script simmered, coming together slowly. Nonetheless, he’d have a finished script to deliver even if he had to lock myself in his hotel room once in New York for the first few days. Earlier that day, before coming to the airport, He had a wild night with Summer, but come morning it was very anti climactic as the sight of her leaving him his house key only played as that she had used him for the night like a traveler uses a hotel room.
He was deep into the people-watching mode. He saw a stewardess walking through the terminal, dragging one of those luggage compartments on wheels. She looked exhausted. She moved slowly, one foot in front of another, almost like she might collapse at any minute like a triathlon runner, meters from the finish line. Her finish line was a terminal area couch just out of his site line. He could only see her hands and her now crossed legs, as she was now seated with her rolling luggage next to her. He could see her right hand reach for something out of his view. Once back in view he noticed she was holding a cell phone, and she began scrolling.
His flight went from delayed, to a slim chance it would be cancelled, to now boarding in a matter of hours. In that time he had finally brought out his laptop and began actively working on the script. Knowing someone wanted a piece of his creativity, made him feel good. It definitely made him want to do his best work. As he made my way to board the plane, each passenger was greeted by a gorgeous; model type stewardess that was so flawless it was as if she floated on air. He watched her throughout the flight to prove and even disprove his theory on that of her to no avail.
When he arrived at JFK the weather was a bit chilly, with a brisk wind. He gathered his bags and hailed a cab to his hotel. While checking in, he saw they had a lounge and thought a drink might sooth the jet lag. So he got to his room, showered, changed, and made his way back down to the lounge. He ordered a Grey Goose and soda. Surveying the place, which looked like a bunch of quiet out-of-towner’s and a band of regulars. The decor was a bit dated, and reminded him of a fashion photo he had seen selling make up or of just the tropical theme. He sat at the bar sipping his drink, strategizing in his head how he’d tackle the whole script finishing process, when a woman sat next to him at the bar. She came in unnoticed by him, as the bar patrons could be counted on two hands. The lounge was dimly lit and with all the colored lighting it was a bit difficult to see. She sat there rubbing the rim of her glass ever so gently. At a certain point she turned to him and looked him over. He acknowledged her presence showing her a quick smile. His intention was just to take the edge off, maybe enter into some easy going conversation, but the conversation she was looking was going to come with a price, which killed the vibe so he finished his drink in silence. Accepting things as they came, he got up from the bar confidently walking back to my room.
The whole situation oddly reminded him of a woman he once knew who was supposedly now living in New York. They had talked on the phone long distance for a while, but it fizzled out after awhile as the distance had taken a toll. Yet he remembered her always talking about owning her own studio apartment with a walk in closet so deep she could get lost in it. He looked up her contact info and thought about calling, as he got to his room. The number was there, so he called up Harumi as he entered his hotel room, closing the door behind me hoping she’d pick up after having not spoken in so long... then the phone clicked over “Hello?”