Take Me Home | ✔

Chapter Thirty-Eight (unedited)

WE WERE TEN MINUTES FROM TAKE-OFF. 

I shouldn’t have been so terrified; I’ve done it before on my way to Denmark, away from home. But there was something about how this plane was smaller and more compact and probably less-safe that made me panic.

There was also something about going back home for the holidays that made me want to bolt. I went to Denmark for a reason, and that was to escape. I was going to be spending most of my December at Uncle Terrence’s massive ranch house-slash-villa-slash-farm, where the vow renewals were supposed to happen, and Samantha had spent some time there with me back in high school. No doubt there would be a difficulty in forgetting that.

But it was a new beginning; Samantha was gone, and I’d just have to accept it. She was in a better place now.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please turn off all your cellular devices. We apologize for this delay, and we will be taking off soon,” a uniformed lady spoke at the front.

 I steeled myself by clinging to the arms of my chair, looking outside from my window seat, sometimes closing my eyes and wanting this sixteen hour ride to be over and done with. Surprisingly, no one had come to take the seat beside me, which I thought was a great thing. I was already making note of the wailing pair of triplet babies four seats away, and the new married couple to my left that were bickering over anything they could fight about. The plane was a little muggy and already loud and boisterous. It left me feeling kind of alone, not knowing a soul on this plane.

Sixteen hours.

Then I’ll be home.

I sighed, turning to the window and getting a last glimpse of Copenhagen, until someone tapped my shoulder.

“Excuse me?”

I turned my head to see a flight attendant with a little boy, maybe around seven or eight beside her. He looked paler than fresh fallen snow.

“Would you mind if you watch over this little boy for the plane ride? He’s travelling alone, and normally I would ask another adult, but mostly everyone on this flight already have kids and I saw you were alone,” she spoke. Then she leaned forward and whispered, “It’s his first time flying by himself.”

My eyes flickered over to the little boy with lemon-colored hair. His eyes were flitting all around the plane, his hands tightly holding on to his small backpack. The poor kid looked like the most lost person in the world.

“Yeah, sure,” I offered. Why not? He looked harmless enough.

The flight attendant thanked me, helped the little boy into his seat and walked off to serve another passenger.

When the boy sat down, his eyes were glued shut. I noticed that he clutched the sides of his chair just like me. I didn't know if I was good with kids. My little sister and I were pretty civil but I was never really that gooey-mushy-mushy-sibling type. But I guess it was better than letting this kid have a panic attack.

“Hey,” I softly burst out. “I’m Elliot.”

He peeked open one eye silently.

“Hi.”

Then he shut his eyes again, pursing his lips and inhaling, exhaling, and inhaling.

“What’s your name?”

“Rudy. But I’m not supposed to talk to strangers. Mama told me.” His blue eyes peered up at me before he frowned and closed his eyes again.

“Oh. I understand. Nice meeting you, Rudy.”