Ordinary Handsome

Collie tapped me on the wrist again. This time, he was a little more persistent; I was fast asleep.

“Beautiful,” I said.

“Say what?”

“Nothing.” Pulling my feet out of a dream, gauzy mud. I put on my glasses and looked at him. He was a good-looking kid, and I still couldn’t peg his age. I thought he might be older than a teenager, but just barely. I used to have a son that age. Collie’s hair was tucked under his wool cap. His expression was earnest.

“Sorry. They just announced all flights to Syracuse were cancelled. I didn’t know if, you know, that might be you.”

“It is.”

“Yeah, Syracuse. When isn’t it snowed in, right?”

I nodded. My bones were aching, my eyes still heavy with sleep-glue. A hotel would be impossible. The gate was already crowded with drifters and grifters and sleep-dumbed housewives. Most would end the night with their backs pushed up against a wall, in plastic shell chairs, stiff on the floor. Smokers would be chewing their nails, the drinkers would be chewing their nerves. I wanted a drink, a smoke, and a bed, but it wasn’t going to happen.

“You don’t say much,” said Collie. “That’s cool. Me, I get tired of all the words. So I hop on a bus and make my peace. The plane… not my choice. A necessary departure from the established.”

Two young women studied their smart phones. I watched the animation leak out of their faces. One was blonde, mid-30’s, tight denim and a jade peasant blouse. She was narrow-boned, and her hair tumbled to her shoulders, all natural curls. Her jewelery looked expensive: fine serpentine chains around her neck, a chunky gold bracelet as shiny as olive oil.

Her friend was older, maybe 40. Dark hair, raven hair, her face pink and polished. Her eyes were dark and curious. She wore black slacks and a simple white sweater. If she wore jewelry, it was less conspicuous. Everything about her was feline: sleek, predatory, cautious.

“… the last time I ever flew,” said Collie.

“Will you watch my bag?” I asked him. “I need some coffee.” I was awake now.