The Tribuo - 64. part V, chapter 17

- XVII -

December 27th

MATT

Be still my heart, my sister actually called me? She decided to end the feud and wish me Merry Christmas? Holy crap, it’s a freaking miracle! Granted, she is a day late, since she called yesterday and I didn’t have my phone on me, but still… Christmas miracle. I dialed my voicemail number and waited patiently for the mechanical voice to inform me that I had “One… Unheard… Message…”

“Hey,” she said. “It’s me…”

I frowned. She sounded weird. Not like someone who was about to burst into a carol.

“Listen, there is something I need to talk to you about…” Pause and sigh. “Crap… I don’t even know how to explain this, but… Damn…” Another sigh. “Okay, call me back, okay? Some weird shit is happening and…”

I frowned even more. What’s her deal? She sounded almost frantic.

“…oh, merry Christmas and all, I suppose… But seriously, call…”

I blinked when the mechanical voice informed me that it was “The end… Of… Message…”

I looked at the phone and had a very strong desire to flip it off. Instead, I just shoved it into my pocket. Jess and I haven’t talked to each other in almost three years, ever since I was dumb enough to tell her about that Katie girl. The minute she heard me saying that I freaking recognized her and that she recognized me (I was sure of that), Jess burst into a very long tirade about the fact that I was driving myself crazy, living in the past, that I should just let it go, etc., etc., etc. I tried explaining to her that there were too many factors to just dismiss them like that, but she wouldn’t even listen.

“Matt,” she said. “I understand how painful it is, and I understand how hard it is to let go, but… You have to do it...! Otherwise, you’ll drive yourself crazy!”

That was when I exploded. I told her to stay the hell out of my life if she couldn't be open-minded enough to accept something. She told me that I was committing slow suicide. I told her that it was none of her business. She then said that I was a stubborn dumbass who didn't have enough strength to let go of a mirage. I called her a stupid bitch. She called me a crazy dickhead. Then we screamed, “Screw you!” at the same time, and we didn’t talk until the day I moved out, which was two weeks after we fought.

Then I cooled off a bit and called her. She sounded tense, but not too pissed off. We started talking, and then one thing led to another, and we ended up screaming at each other again. That time I threw my phone into the wall. We haven’t talked to each other ever since. Not even on holidays.

Why the hell did she call now? To rub something in my face again? No, it didn’t sound like Jess. Why then? I almost called her back, but when I was about to dial her number, my phone started going off. I was almost positive that it was her, and I didn’t even look at the caller I.D.

“Hey,” I said into the phone.

“Mattie!”

It was my mother. I closed my eyes.

“Hey,” I said again.

“I am just calling to confirm,” she sounded as cheerful as ever.

I guess Florida does that to you. She left to see my grandmother a week or so ago. I am leaving tomorrow, and Jess apparently, decided not to show up until New Year’s Eve. Fine with me.

“Yeah, Mom,” I said. “My flight leaves tomorrow at three-ten in the afternoon.”

“You need to call the airlines,” now she sounded worried. “I mean, it’s holiday season. You need to confirm that everything is still fine…”

“I did, Mom,” I sighed. I didn’t and I wasn’t going to.

“Oh, okay… So I will see you tomorrow then?”

“Yes, Mom. Give Bambi a hug from me.”

“I will,” she laughed. Bambi was my grandmother. I don’t even remember why the hell we called her Bambi, but that was her nickname. “You will see her tomorrow.”

“How is she?”

“Doing great for someone who is eighty-five!”

“Awesome… Mom, my phone is about to die. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. Call the airlines again!”

“I will. Bye, Mom.”

I lied about my phone dying. I knew that my mother would start saying something like, “Make sure that you double-check all your papers! The tickets, your I.D., everything you need!” And then she would say, “Get to the airport at least four hours before your flight leaves! I know that sounds like a lot of time, but it’ll fly by. You need plenty of time to be able to get through all security and customs.” Customs. As if Florida was in Russia or something. I never argued with my mother -- it was absolutely and utterly useless. I would usually agree with her for the first five minutes or so, and then my phone would face inevitable albeit quick and painless death.

I was thinking about Jess’ weird message and about whether I should call her back or not, when my roommate waltzed in.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” I sighed and put the phone away. I’ll see her in Florida in four days. Whatever she wanted to say, she could do it then.

He stared at me with a frown.

“What?” I asked.

“Are you gay?”

“Wanna make out?”

That was our usual conversation. He would say this at least three times a week. Usually it led to me leaving the apartment for several hours and hanging out at the local Starbucks, so Kevin (my roommate) could have a wild, unrestricted sex session with his girlfriend.

“You wish,” he grinned. “No, I am just wondering. You are staying home a hell of a lot… You need to go out or something.”

Yup. I knew it. I sighed and grabbed my car keys.

“I’ll be back at seven,” I said and he started coughing. “Eight?” More coughing. “Jesus, Kev… It’s cold outside just so you know…”

“Eight is good,” he finally said. “Thanks, man.”

“Uh huh,” I said indifferently. “Dude, you are having this whole place all to yourself as of tomorrow. Can’t you just wait?”

“What time are you leaving?” He sounded as if he didn’t even hear me speak. As usual.

“Noon,” I said. “And you'd better clean all the shit off the kitchen counter before I come back tonight. If I get another pubic hair in my sandwich, I swear to God…”

He winced at that.

“Dude, it only happened once.”

“Was more than enough,” I grumbled, and went outside.

… I ended up going to a movie that night, since I really didn’t want to walk in on my roommate again. Three times was indeed a charm. And, knowing him… Ah, never mind… The movie wasn’t too bad, and by the time I got back home, it was almost eleven, and the entire apartment was dark and quiet. Thank God for small favors.

December 28th

I woke up at ten in the morning. If I want to leave at noon, I’d better get my ass out of bed. It took me less than an hour to brush my teeth, take a shower, and get dressed. I didn’t bother double-checking my tickets and papers -- I knew I had everything in my wallet.

When I finally got into the kitchen, there were Kevin and his girl. In dangerous proximity to the counter.

“Oh, for the love of God…” I said and they jumped at the same time. “Seriously… I am leaving in an hour. Can’t you just freaking wait?!”

“Hey, Matt,” the girl smiled and turned pink.

“Hey, Sarah,” I sighed.

“You know, traffic is really bad,” Kevin said thoughtfully, and I shot him a dark look. “What? You don’t wanna be late for your flight, do you?”

“My flight leaves at three-ten,” I said. “And you are not going to see me until January fifth, so suck it up.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “You right. Sorry…”

I drank my coffee in silence. Finally, Kevin said, “Hey, Sarah…”

“Yeah?” She replied.

“So, that mole that I have on my…”

“Oh, Jesus!” I set my mug on the counter. “Fine, fine, I am leaving!”

“Hey, happy holidays, man!” Kevin said brightly, and I almost threw something at him.

*****

I couldn’t believe this. It was two o’clock, and I wasn’t anywhere near the airport. Kevin was right -- traffic was bad. Jesus Christ! If I miss my flight, I’ll be livid. I glanced around. Yeah, good luck getting out of this jam, I thought gloomily. You have to be Harry-freaking-Houdini to be able to find your way out of this mess.

I was all but slamming my steering wheel, when the cars in front of me finally started moving. I looked at the clock. 2:20. Okay, I’m gonna make it. I have almost an hour.

…I was right. I pulled to the airport’s parking gate at 2:46.

“Please… Take… Your… Ticket…” the mechanical voice droned and I ripped the parking ticket out of the machine.

I was lucky to find a parking spot within five minutes, and then I raced towards the sliding glass doors. When I got to the check-in counter, it was 2:55. The girl behind the counter gave me a quick, tired smile.

“Your ticket, please,” she said.

I shoved my hand in my pocket, and suddenly, I felt cold. You have got to be kidding me… Where the hell is my wallet?!

“Sir,” the girl said impatiently. “Your ticket?”

“Yeah, yeah…” I muttered, frantically searching every single pocket that I had.

“Could you step aside?” she asked. “There are people behind you.”

I stepped aside. Think, goddammit, think! You came home last night, you threw your damn keys on the table… What did you do with the wallet? You put it next to the bed. Then what? Then you grabbed it after you woke up, and…

I all but ripped my bag open. Yes, you idiot! You put it in your freaking bag! I pulled my ticket out and almost threw it at the girl behind the counter.

“Sorry!” I said quickly, and she just rolled her eyes.

It took her less than five minutes to punch something into the computer, and finally, she handed me the boarding pass.

“Have a nice flight,” she jabbered automatically, and I just nodded.

…It was eight minutes pass three, when I finally got to the right gate. I knew that I was probably the last person to board, so the fact that there was nobody around but a bored-looking person behind the desk, didn’t surprise me. I shoved my boarding pass into her hands and she looked at it with a frown.

“What?” I asked breathlessly.

“Umm,” she said uncomfortably. “This isn’t the right gate, sir… I am sorry.”

“What?” I couldn’t believe this. “It says fourteen-A!”

“They changed it thirty minutes ago,” she said, and I just stared at her. “There was a mishap with the landing, and the gates are subject to change anyway, so…”

“Which gate?” I asked and she blinked.

“Twenty-seven-B,” she said, and I closed my eyes. “It’s all the way down the…”

“Any chance I can make it there in…” I looked at my watch. “...thirty seconds?”

“I am sorry,” she winced. “I can try and get hold of someone… Sometimes they would hold a flight for several minutes if they know that the passenger is on the way…”

“Please,” I muttered.

She talked to someone on the phone, and when she hung up, I knew exactly what she was going to say.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “The flight just took off.”

Well, crap. I sat down in one of the chairs to catch my breath. Finally, I got up and went back outside. Well, on the bright side, I won’t have to pay seventy bucks for parking garage.

I got into my car, grabbed my phone, and looked up Jess’ number. Of course, in my phone it didn’t say, 'Jess' -- it said, 'Evil Twin.' I thought of calling her, but then decided ah, screw it. So I threw the phone into the passenger seat and decided to go home. The traffic wasn’t nearly as bad now that I was driving away from the airport. I was almost by my exit on the freeway, when something stirred inside me, and instead of getting into the right lane and slowing down, I just kept on driving. I had no idea why I was doing it, but I did it nevertheless. Just kept on driving.