Out of The Blue

Chapter 25

     "Alana Adair? We sincerely apologize for the wait Miss Adair," the flight clerk inquires apologetically.

     "Yes?" I respond remembering that's my name.

     "Your flight is ready now, again thank you for your patience and we are so sorry you had to wait for so long."

     "Oh, thank you so much!" I exclaim. She gives me her rehearsed smile and slightly bows as she turns to leave.

     "You have to go?" Asks Emily with big eyes.

     "Yes," I say with a sigh. I can't tell if my sigh is relief or sadness, but I know that part of it is relief because I can finally get home. I look at my watch as I begin to gather my things, has it really been 2 hours?

     "Yeah, us too. Our flight arrived early and our next one was also delayed but I need to check if it's arrived yet," the dad inquires with a yawn. He seems so tired and I can relate right now.

     "Wait, but what happened to Marie?" Jackson asks as he gets up to help me with my things.

     "Oh well, she couldn't come here looking like herself because she feared that the police might recognize her, since her case went on the newspaper, the news, and searched for extensively everywhere. She didn't want that, and she was also afraid that maybe her kidnappers would be here waiting for her," I explain as Jackson picks up a suitcase covered with a blanket to hand it to me.

     "This one's a bit heavy," I tell him.

     "No, it's not, I can handle it," he says in a matter-of-fact way.

     Only, it's not a suitcase.

     "Please be very careful with this one," I say as I lift a corner of the blanket to see if he's ok.

     "Garfield?" Willy asks surprised when he saw the cat inside, curled up asleep. Emily softly gasps, their father darts his eyes at the cage, his kids, and then me with confusion pouring out.

     "Anyways, she couldn't come looking like herself, she was too paranoid with the kidnappers catching her again. So, she disguised herself, made it to the airport, and is going to reunite with her parents in France. Of course, she's also going to find all the things her 6th-great grandfather gave her," I explain quickly not wanting to miss my flight. They all stare at me questioningly and confused.

     "Your name isn't Alana?" The dad asks with squinted eyes. I tug at my wig, fixing it to set it in place better. Emily softly gasps again, Jackson opens his eyes wide, Willy widens his eyes and opens his mouth, astonished.

     "You never introduced yourself with your name," Jackson pointed out.

     "My name is Marie Rousseau, and it was a pleasure meeting you all," I respond as a smile forms with genuine kindness. I have everything gathered so I turn to leave while I wave them goodbye and they just wave goodbye with astonished faces.

     "Goodbye, Mar- Alana!" Emily catches herself while she says this.

     I give my last waves and I'm off to board the plane. I'm off to France.

                                                                                ~~

     Like I said I couldn't come here as I am, I was way too paranoid and so was Alice and Bob. I had parked about a mile from the airport behind a cluster of trees where we're well hidden. I switched seats with Alice and took out a wig from my bag. This hair color goes well with this soft green, delicate sundress that goes just a bit over my knees, decorated with tiny flowers in a different shad of green. Alice helped braid my hair and pin it for the wig cap. The wig is just under my shoulders, ginger, and curly. I then place green colored contacts in my eyes and voila, my name is Alana Adair and I'm Scottish. I don't know how but I just came up with this name on a whim and Alice was telling me how it was unnecessary but, I'm paranoid, alright?

     No one would ever notice who I am, not even Bob because he doesn't know the color of my wig. I look completely different. I'm basically the opposite of who I am, how I look like. If I'm being honest, I like myself as a red head. Maybe I should dye my hair ginger. 

     I look at my ticket and search for my assigned seat. I really hope my kidnappers aren't here. My heart races at the thought of maybe sitting next to them, that would be the worst thing to ever happen to me and I'm putting that on top of the first time being taken. I'm so anxious, I just want to arrive to my home already. Impatient. I want to scream. I can't help the grin on my face at the thought of my parents faces. How will they react when they see me?

     I find my seat right next to the window and my grin just grows bigger; the warmth in my heart gets warmer, pumping it throughout my body. I'd left Garfield in the designated place for pets, soon we too will reunite, and he will accompany me throughout my journey. It's quite an adventure. I open the overhead compartment and store my luggage there. I'm pushing my bag in and look to my right down the aisle. I fix my eyes on someone I can't look away from. Why? It's like I'm waiting for him to look up and show his face to me, to make sure. I close the compartment and look to him again. You're being dramatic. You're just paranoid. Suddenly, the smile disappears from my face, I squint my eyes and wrinkle my eyebrows together. What is he doing here? Why is he here? He's not supposed to be here, why is he here, coincidentally heading to France just as me? He has nothing in France, he has no reason to be here and go there. Why? Because he knows this was my plane and is following me, but why is he following me? A voice snaps me back to reality,

     "Excuse me ma'am, you're in my way," a man inquires anxiously with a frown.

     I just quickly take my seat, lowering myself in it so he doesn't see me. I fidget my fingers with my lip. I push myself up to see where he's sitting. He's probably 10 or 15 rows behind me. Is he following me? Is he looking for me? Does he know I'm here? Can he tell it's me? He seems oblivious at my presence, which is good, I wanted to come alone. I'm moving to France for god's sake! I cross my arms across my chest and stare out the window. I can feel the blood rush to my cheeks and ears, reddening them, making it hot in this plane. I hate this, I get even the slightest irritated, and I'm already flushed, I can just imagine how I look like when I'm enraged. Just keep calm, he's probably just here to make sure you arrive safe. You'll be home with your family in no time, I tell myself with deep breaths. I look back again through the space between my seat and the one next to me to make sure it is or isn't him, but when I look at him again, I am confirmed that it is him. It is Bob.

     I suddenly push myself up and make my way down the aisles.

      "Excuse me, sorry," I say as I make my way through the people.

     "Bob! What are you doing here?" I sternly ask in a low voice.

     "Oh Marie, is it you?" He asks with pressed eyebrows and crinkled eyes as if trying to focus his eyes and make sure it's me.

     "Yes, it's me. Why are you here? I thought I was going alone. You can't come with me; I'm literally moving to another country! Where's your wife? What does she think of this?" I rant to him in a low voice only he and I can hear.

     "I just came to make sure you get there safe, Marly knows it and she's ok with it. You're also like a daughter to her. And not to rat anyone out but Alice was also in on it," Bob explains. Did I hurt his feelings? He seems different. Something about him is different but I can't tell what. I'm being so rude and demanding, the poor man is probably heartbroken about me leaving; I'm like a daughter to him and Marly, and he just wants to make sure I'll be alright and here I am lashing out at him.

     "I'm sorry, I'm just stressed. Thank you for caring for me I just – you didn't have to,"

     "Of course, I did, after everything we've been through together," Bob says

     "You sure? You didn't have to – "

     "It's no bother, dear Marie," he reassures before I can say anything else. We share smiles.

     "Alright, well I should be in my seat by now, I'm just in front," I say breaking the moment apart. He nods and I head to my seat. Something is different about him. It's like something changed, it's not heartbreak, what if it's anger? It breaks my heart knowing that what I'm doing is hurting him, but I must do this, I have to go to my home. It's where I belong.