LITR 3731: Creative Writing
Student Fiction Submission 2003

Corrie Lawrence

The Apology

“Keys locked in the car again,” she muttered to herself. She resisted the urge to kick the car or the air, and instead, peering through the window, squinted to see what she already knew to be there.  Her keys laughingly chided her as they dangled from the ignition of the old, beat up Volkswagen. Inches away, a half-eaten apple lay cradled between the seat and parking brake.  With no regard for circumstance, her mouth began watering and her stomach lurched.  “I’d crack myself up if I weren’t me,” she muttered, halfway amused.

Thick with moisture, the wind blasted shots of the chilled gulf air through Jordan’s jacket and clothes. Goose flesh crawled up her torso as she stepped around the running vehicle, awkwardly hugging herself and flapping her arms for warmth. Another day would have been better for this bonehead episode, she thought to herself. Don’t I have big enough problems? This isn’t going help put Sam in a better mood either.  

Examining the more than minor complication to her plans for peace, she stepped back and looked at her car.  The dark green Volkswagen bore an array of nicks and dents all too telling – an unseen shopping cart here, an accidental scrape with the dumpster there – the car sadly received her inspection.  Well, don’t you look how I feel? She smiled wryly at the embarrassed sympathy she felt for her shabby vehicle.  Poor thing, all that I put you through, She thought. I’ll be more careful next time…

She lifted her gaze to see the bigger picture of her plight.  The Volkswagen stood running two lanes from the curb on the second level of the airport carousel.  Departures Only, a sign above her warned -- But I was only going to dash in and out.  Sam was working anyway, so it couldn’t have taken long. Just a quick and sincere I’m sorry, here’s a peace offering, and adios.  She looked down at the wrapped Atone’s po’ boy wedged between the straps of the purse on her arm.

Businessmen and would-be travelers milled about loaded with luggage or briefcases. Cars and busses jerked and jolted, ushering passengers off and leaving a frosty trail of exhaust and vapor as they  whizzed away to reload and return.  Trunks popped open and slammed shut. Skycaps wheeled away bags and shoddily packed boxes. Families and couples embraced, parting company.  Everyone and everything moved and kept moving.

“Check your bags?” a voice came over her shoulder.

Jordan started, and turned.  “Uh, no thank you,” she replied to the skycap, turning back around as she flushed – I need to move my car before they get me ticketed, she thought urgently.  

“You ain’t got any, do ya?” The older black man seemed tickled.  “I saw what you did. Still running too,” he laughed.   Thank you for your help – go away!

“Just not the best of days so far, but I’m fine. Thank you.”

“Yes ma’am,” he laughed, nodding his head as he turned back toward the check-in stand.

Ah!  - Coat hanger! Yes - Sam is great with a coat hanger – he can jimmy just about any lock. And he’s got airport I.D., so they won’t tow my car if he’s here.

Resolved in her plan of action, she began to step towards the curb when a hideous yellow beast suddenly swerved uncomfortably close to her running car. Emitting a foul odor as it slowed, the yellow bus sang loudly in high-pitched squeals as it grinded to a halt only inches from Jordan’s rear bumper. What are you doing?! Jordan aimed irritated, slanderous thoughts at a bus driver that she could hardly see through the bus’s pitted and foggy windshield. She started to breath through her mouth to avoid smelling the unpleasant exhaust, but screwed her face when felt the thick bitterness of the dark fumes on her tongue. She looked up at the monstrosity producing the awful emissions and realized she was going to have to wait to get by.

Large black dots covered the body of the bus. Like warts on a jaundiced witch, she knew her thoughts were influenced by the season.  The outlandish paint job made sense when she recognized it from a nearby business, The Parking Spot.  Could have just parked somewhere like that, she thought. Then I wouldn’t be stuck here. The bus door folded open with the sound of grating metal, and passengers began to disembark, tugging their luggage behind them. Jordan began thinking about making up with Sam again.  She watched the last couple people step off the bus and she became more impatient. The final two, a father and son seemed to take longer than the others.  She watched them intently, willing them to move faster.

The little boy she hurried with her gaze turned around, and Jordan to involuntarily flinched. A little dark-haired boy with wide, dark eyes, and a smooth milky complexion looked back at her. His arm fully extended into his father’s firm grasp where his wrist and hand were engulfed.  Fully aware of the unsettled feeling she had, Jordan still found his face likable, like something familiar was there to be found. But at the same time the roundness of his eyes and his slow demeanor stirred her insides to an uneasy flutter. The boy slowly turned his head, as though he didn’t like anything about being at the airport. Suddenly she became aware of her own dislike, which had over time almost become lost in familiarity. You and me both kid.  Airports and hospitals, they’re about the same. 

Axles creaking, the hideous yellow bus began moving again, and Jordan’s eyes again became fixed on the airport entrance. She trotted through the glass doors, wondering how long airport security would let her car sit without ticketing it. Aware that the boy and father walked quickly behind her, she headed for Sam’s concourse. 

Sam appeared through a door that camouflaged into the wall.

“Hi,” he looked surprised to see her, even though the cheery employee she’d asked to get him must have told him she was there.                 

“Hi. I wanted to see you a minute, but I locked my keys in the car.” She said. Sam looked at her, waiting for more.  “And.it’s running – and it’s on the departure level, “ she finished. “Oh – and I brought you this,” she fumbled clumsily for the sandwich and pulled it from between the straps of her purse tearing off a strip of the wrapping paper, and placed it before him on the counter.  The paper fluttered to the floor. Not so graceful an apology as she had planned. The cheerful employee stood by, wide-grinned and watchful. Jordan wanted her to leave.    

“Thanks,” he said.  She’d had it all planned out in her head.  Come, apologize, leave. Simple.

“Do you have a coat hanger?” The words came out of her mouth before she could think of anything better to say. The vigilant employee snorted.

 Wish that girl would go do something else – or step two feet away at least.  A look of amusement flashed across Sam’s face. Jordan didn’t know if it was at his coworker’s snort or the facial expression that she wore - for years he’d known Jordan’s inner monologue was easily betrayed by her face. The look quickly passed.

“I think I can find one.”  He disappeared behind the hidden door again. 

Jordan leaned against the counter, and realized for the first time that she was sweating slightly. All these years and he still gets me hot, she joked to herself. The cheery girl finally found something to do a little ways down the counter.  Feeling more comfortable, Jordan decided to watch her now, and she did for a minute, but her gaze began to wander to other surroundings. As she looked around her eyes fell on the same little boy she’d been watching earlier – dark-haired and milky, from the screeching bus.  He stood at a nearby counter. The father still gripped the boy’s hand tightly as he conversed with a customer service agent across the ticket counter; the child’s eyes were still large and round.  Examining the father, she noticed through polite words and nervous laughter that his face was flushed and perspiration moistened his light brow.  He’s probably drunk…fear of flying – probably got the poor kid scared to death now too.  Sam had told her many such stories, and she felt sorry for boy. Maybe the flight attendants will catch on and take care of him. Sure hope so. Jordan considered mentioning it to Sam, but began to think better of asking any more favors.  She began to turn away to watch the dozens of people in lines around her, but something strange and indefinable anchored her gaze on the boy; her insides were fluttering again.  Instantly, she shivered as though she’d received an ice-cold injection.  The picture! – I’ve seen him.  She squinted and then looked down, her body rigid with shock as she struggled to recall it…

It was three days ago when she and Sam had fought. She had sat at the breakfast table still fuming as she sipped scalding coffee.  The late morning sun had begun to give her a headache. Things rarely stayed this bad for so long, the silence lingered and set in heavier with each hour. Finally, Sam entered the kitchen crisp and fully dressed. He sat, and without words they pretended to sip coffee read the junk mail that cluttered the table. Things were rarely so bad they wouldn’t talk, but as Jordan now recalled the events of that morning her distress arose from a different source. 

Sam had held a small leaflet of white cardboard that he flipped and folded in his hands.  At the time he seemed to examine it so intently, but maybe he was only pretending to look at that too. Jordan had reached over and took the missing persons flyer from him; their hands briefly touched.  Looking down at the picture, she had broken the silence, “It’s so sad…all those lost kids.”

He glanced at the leaflet in her hands. “Yeah,” he said.  “It is.”  There was silence again for a while, and Jordan feared that her attempt was so feeble that silence would again take over their dinette.   To her surprise he spoke without meeting her eyes, “When I was a little kid, I used to study those little pamphlets so hard, thinking that I might be able to recognize one of them somewhere.  Then I could call the number and it would be just like on Unsolved Mysteries, and they’d get to go home to their parents or family.” Then he paused, thinking about the memory he just related. “I don’t know where that came from.” An uncomfortable laugh escaped his lips. She had looked down at that point, studying the flyer again. The memory became vivid and unreal.  The boy - Dark hair, the picture! Milky skin– the kid she was looking at! Last seen with…—what had it said?  This can’t be for real!

   “Ready? I don’t have long – have to work a flight in ten minutes,” Sam had returned without her notice.     

                “Um – uh. Yeah. I just—“ she blinked as though confused.

                “You can walk and talk at the same time, can’t you?” his words came light and jokingly, as he twisted the coat hanger into his favorite lock-picking shape.

                “Sam, just look at that kid a minute,” she said. Jordan could tell he was getting impatient, but he followed her gaze.

                “Looks like a neighbor kid.  So what?  A lot of people we know come through here.”

                “That’s not a neighbor kid, Sam!” her voice was urgent. ”The only kids in the neighborhood are the Maclean kids and they’re all tow-headed.” She wanted him to recognize the boy too.

                “So it’s one of their friends,” he was getting perturbed. “I don’t have time— if I’m unlocking your car, we’re leaving now.”

                “No—we’ve seen him before- you won’t believe me--.” She didn’t wait for him to speak. “That’s the kid from the missing persons flyer you were looking at the other morning,” she almost couldn’t believe her own words. It really couldn’t be, though.  Hadn’t that kid gone missing in Tucson, or something?  Her mind doubted it, but she insisted with her words, “Don’t you remember?”  Sam squinted a little, but didn’t’ look convinced or concerned.

                “No, Jordan, I think he just looks like a kid you’ve seen – T.V. probably,” He tried to laugh as though brushing it aside, but his speech was becoming rapid and annoyed, “We have to go-- right now.”  He began walking towards the corridor, but Jordan stopped him. 

                “Or maybe I saw him on that flyer— “she equaled his tone, but kept her voice low.  He was under time pressure. She had come to offer an apology, and now he was doing her a favor, but she no longer cared. Quick on her heel she turned. “I don’t care what you do, I’m not going leave till I know.”  She was becoming more certain in her mind.  Even if it wasn’t the right kid – but it was, wasn’t it – it was better to check than not.

                “And this is an airport for crying out loud.  There’s plenty of cops around.  That’s what they’re supposed to do,” Jordan’s thoughts came to her lips.  She took a step in the direction of the boy and man, without knowing what she was going to do Things were taking on a dream-like quality now. Should I just go tell an officer? she wondered.

                “Honey, honey –“ Sam gently took her elbow. She resisted his grasp, and he laughed as though she were being playful. “Please trust me.  Look at me, J.” He became softer with his voice, “I promise you that’s not the boy from the flyer.  I saw it too, remember?”

                Yes, but she was silent.

                “I looked at it longer than you if I remember correctly, didn’t I?”

                Yes. 

                “I would never want to see something bad happen to a child, either.  You and I are in the same boat here, aren’t we? But I am certain that’s not the kid from the flyer.”  He looked her full in the face with sincere eyes. 

                “Honey, I love you and you have a sweet, well-meaning heart, but I know you’re mistaken about this.”  He pressed firmly on her arm as if to punctuate his sentence.  Jordan looked down at her feet.  Tears filled her eyes, thought she didn’t know why.  “Do you trust me?” He still held the twisted the coat hanger in his hand.  Her confidence was wearing away.

                “Yes,” she said softly. She forced her tears back and returned his gaze.  She couldn’t remember if he had blinked during the whole conversation. 

                “Please trust me – I promise you there is no reason for this worry – Come with me and we’ll get your car.”  Sam held her hand all the way to her car.

                Sam worked the lock quick as ever, and minutes later Jordan was behind the wheel.

                “Ha, ha - thought the young lady was in some kinda bind,” the same skycap laughed.  “Lucky lil’ thing to have you round, Sam.”  Sam returned his laugh with a step to the curb and slap on the back.

                “Stay out of trouble Spence, see you later.” He bent down with one hand on Jordan’s door, “I love you, J.  Go home and relax – we’re going to be okay.” He smiled, “Thank you for the sandwich.”  Jordan nodded.   “I think it’s been too long since we’ve really gone out.”  A smile involuntarily tugged at the crease of her mouth. It had been a long time. 

“There’s my girl,” said Sam. He bent down and kissed her. “Call you on my break.”

“K.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Sam.” The door slammed shut, and Sam waved as he disappeared through sliding glass doors.  Looking straight ahead, Jordan pursed her lips and a tear escaped her eye.  She stiffly shook her head.

She glanced down and saw her apple, now brown where she’d bitten it.  Her stomach was knotted and she felt nauseous.   She pressed firmly on the brake and shifted into drive.  The Volkswagen moved forward, and she slammed on the brake. The apple hit the floor.  Out of the corner of her eye she saw Spence, the skycap, watching her.  She trembled and sat.  Minutes passed.   She bent her head down sitting in confusion.  What just happened? she wailed inside. Do you trust me?…Sam’s words echoed.