Sitting back on a
semi-slick leather seat of a cab, that looked like it had rolled down
a few hills, Jacob sniffed the stale air. The air smelt of something
between patchouli and ass, he was not really sure whether to vomit or
laugh. The driver rambled on about something in a half-broken dialect
that seemed to resemble something mid-eastern with just a hint of
British slang. Not really paying attention he just nodded his head
trying to relax enough to help the headache he had go away.
Rolling
down the window to peer up at all the bright lights he wondered if
the people who came to this city, were attracted to the lights like a
moth is attracted to a flame. It all seems bright and pretty until
you get too close and get burned. I suppose that’s why they call
this the city of lost souls. Las Vegas, home to everyone that the
rest of society won't take, the city of unwanted refugees. This was
his home; he loved to hate it, and hated to love it.
It
seemed him that in the city of sin that a cab is like a mobile
confessional. The priests of a downtrodden society, who give us
absolution by simply listening to our problems, no matter how many
times they have heard it before. Talking to a complete stranger seems
easier because they don’t seem to judge you, let alone know who you
are. Your chance of ever seeing them again is about as good as
leaving Vegas happy. It happens, but not very often.
He
imagined now that the smell of ass in the car was a metaphor for all
the shit that people left behind. The patchouli was perhaps a
manifestation of all the pent-up sexual frustration we all inevitably
go through, especially in a city where sex sells everything. Then
again, he thought, it could be just something to help cover-up the
smell of ass. It didn’t matter; the cab finally arrived at its
destination. He tipped the cabbie more than he should have and
stepped out into the warm night ready for anything that would come
his way.
Looking
up to read the signs, he carefully found Banal Airlines, which oddly
meant bland, not some foreign and exotic country. He smiled at the
thought of it. He caught a glimpse of it at the far end of the long
row of check-in stations.
Upset
now, he reasoned that cabbies seem to know where to go, so long as it
serves them a fare. Somewhat like a priest he thought, taking tidings
to guide you to everlasting life. Only problem is, that you don’t
know if it’s the right gate.
He
grabbed his duffel bag; the driver had
kindly placed on the sidewalk before running off to his next
confession. He found it amazing how you could fit your whole life
into such a small bag and never really appreciate the humor in it.
Remembering to make sure he had his ticket, he finally headed toward
the beginning of a long adventure. He checked in and soon found a
seat near the gate that seemed comfortable enough to sleep in until
they called for passengers.
A loud sigh woke
him, abruptly. He lifted his hat to see where the noise had come
from. A young attractive girl sat with arms and legs crossed with a
sour expression on her face. She had obviously been crying. He
quickly closed his eyes hoping she had not noticed him. He really
didn't want to get involved in other peoples affairs. Unfortunately
she had seen him, and excitedly said, “Oh, you are awake, I am
sorry to bother you I just didn't know what else to do. Could you
please just pretend to know me? I’m trying to hide from someone and
I really need some help”.
Jacob
stayed quiet hoping she would find some other patsy to fall for her
sob story and sad eyes. A moment later thinking she had left he felt
a strong push, “I know you’re awake. So stop pretending to be
asleep and help me!” She exclaimed, slapping his shoulder in a
teasing fashion.
He sat up quickly
and fixed his hat, looking her square in the eyes and grumbled,
“Fine! What is it you want? How did you know I was awake anyway?”
She reached out her hand and laughed, “I’m Amber, and you are?”
“Jacob,
the name is Jacob. But why are you bothering me?” He said slightly
aggravated, shaking her small hand, noticing the odd strength she
had.
“Actually,
Jacob. I really don’t need anything. I heard you snoring and
thought it was cute. Then I noticed your ticket and saw you were on
the same flight with me, and figured you would like to know they are
about to call passengers.” She said in a hurriedly and excited way.
Jacob
was angry but intrigued by this strange girl. He looked at her with a
quiver of a smile escaping his lips. She had noticed, and was happy
she had done what she did. Jacob couldn't help but look at her. She
looked amazing, in a rugged half insane sort of way he thought. Her
hair was a mess of curls bouncing wildly around her small face. She
had eyes that, he had an eerie suspicion, could peer right through
you. Her small frame was unmatched by her obvious strength in
personality and will. Jacob couldn't believe he was thinking about
a girl he just met, in such detail. He barely ever noticed people, or
rather never would like to be noticed at all by most people. She
smiled at him in a crooked smirk befitting any devious mastermind
accomplishing their mission. He laughed and asked, “What are you
smirking at?”
“Nothing,
I just thought your furrowed brow was cute. You seem to be thinking
rather hard on something. What is it?” Amber asked in a modest
childlike way.
He
thought for a moment longer, and with a questioning voice he asked,
“Nothing much, I was just wondering why you went to such lengths to
get my attention. I mean the fake tears, the pouted lips, the sad
blue eyes and last, the messy hair? Why such attentions to detail
when you could of easily just have shaken me awake and said, “Hey,
your flight is being called?”
She looked a little
upset now. She crossed her arms and turned slightly away. Reminding
him of a surly girl who didn't get what she wanted for her birthday.
She finally spoke, in a half defensive manner and half apologetic.
She said, “Well, first of all I was only doing you a favor.
Secondly, my hair is not messy it’s just… natural. I can’t do
anything about my sad blue eyes, and the rest… well it’s just
that I thought if you saw a pretty girl in need you would talk to
her. I really wanted to talk to you, OK. There I said it, I liked you
and didn't know how to approach you.” She said and put her face
in her hands from embarrassment and sobbed, “So I understand if you
don’t want to talk to such a dork.”
He saw her hopeful
eyes peek out from her soft hands, waiting for him to apologize.
Suddenly the intercom overhead rang out, “Calling all passengers
for Banal Airlines, Flight 433. Please report to gate B6.” Jacob
grabbed his coat and bag and headed for the gate. He paused shortly
and turned around toward the most beautiful and quite possibly the
craziest girl he had ever met. Grabbing her bag, he threw it over his
shoulder and held out his hand toward her. “Oh come on Amber, take
my hand. You’re not going to miss our flight are you?”
She looked up,
tears in her eyes she wiped them away, and asked, “Are you saying
you don’t care that I did all that corny stuff just to get your
attention?
He
laughed and said, “I actually thought it was cute, a little corny,
but cute nonetheless. Besides, if I didn't want talk to a dork, I
couldn't look myself in mirror every morning and say, “Today,
you find out where you belong. Today, you will become the man you are
destined to be.” If that isn't
being a dork, I don’t know what is.”
She reached out and
let him take her hand in his and pull her towards his body, which is
exactly where she wanted to be. Smiling at him, she reached up
towards his face and leaned in. He was sure he was imagining this; he
closed his eyes and the hair on his body stood waiting in
anticipation with him. Suddenly her hand was on his shoulder, he took
a breath, and she grabbed her bag and took off toward the gate,
turning back only to see him stammer awkwardly for a moment, she
smiled. He shook off the awkward feeling and took off after her.
Standing
in line waiting to board, the world went quiet. It reminded him of
those moments in movies when something substantial was happening to
the main character emotionally, and slowly
soft music starts playing to represent the mood. To him, it was as if
everything moved in slow motion. He noticed Amber at the front of the
line, her smile wide as could be, the soft curls of her hair danced
delicately off her face like a careful
ballet. He knew in that moment, that this was his beginning. Her,
this flight, and everything surrounding them was where his life
really began. He didn't really know how he understood this, but it
was as if his soul was aching to tell him the secrets of the world.
He boarded the plain, waiting patiently
like he never had before. He smiled at the nice attendant welcoming
him on his journey. Drifting past the other passengers in the front
he noticed an odd man, well normal really, Something was out of place
with him, he didn't know what but something just struck him as odd.
The man was sweating profusely, but then
again he thought, this is Vegas. He found his seat Isle 22B. He
looked down to see a grin as wide as the pacific ocean. Amber, seated
in 22A, laughed at the serendipity of things. He couldn't help but
smile back and laugh. He stowed his luggage overhead, grabbed his
notebook and pen and sat down in his seat.
"What
do you think the chances are that we would be sitting right next to
each other and yet still meeting before hand? It has to be
astronomical, I bet." babbled Amber, trying
to strike up a conversation. "Well, you figure there are roughly
300 passengers on this plane, plus we would generally be in the same
area, and also given the fact the the average age of the rest of the
passenger seem to be at least ten to twenty years older than both of
us. I would say it was a pretty small chance." He joked. Her
face went pale and it looked as though she were about to cry.
"However, the chances of us having this good of chemistry, and
also the chances of me actually liking you were astronomical. Yet
look at us now. Thick as thieves we are!" Her face lit up and
she hugged him. No words, just a hug. Longer than it should have been
for most people, but oddly just right for both of them. Jacob
couldn't remember the last time he was hugged. Maybe third grade, he
thought, but that was an case of mistaken identity from Becky
Shoemaker, who thought he was Billy Johnson. A mistake he payed for
with a slap in the face.
He shook off the
memory, and looked at Amber and wondering what she was thinking. She
smiled at him and laughed. “That look on your face, such deep
thought for such a young and handsome face.” Jacob lay back in his
chair and smiled, eyes closed and relaxed. A sigh of relief left his
body in a slow shudder. He spoke softly not moving, “Good night.”
She laughed lightly "Good night too you too." His eyes
were heavy with the memories of the past and slowly he slipped into
his dreams, with only the soft rumbling of the engines to sooth him.
