airport

My dad is not going with us. He says he will see us in two months - after he packs up our things. He stands at the counter of Sun Country Airlines chewing on his cuticles. My new skirt itches. I hate that he made me dress up to run away from home. I ask him who will watch us. He doesn't answer, but tries to keep his voice calm when he says that "kids do this all of the time" and that his cousin will meet us right when we get off the plane. Little brother hitches up his backpack and looks at me. It is 10:00 at night and we are fleeing the state to escape a pscho kidnapper - I'm pretty sure kids don't do this all the time.

Daddy kisses us goodbye and watches as a stewardess escorts us through the airport to board our plane. I turn around just once - he is still there. For a moment he locks his eyes on mine, and then he drops his chin, takes a deep breath, and lifts his head with a brave smile. Just right then, I know that he did not want our life to be like this, and I feel sorry for him, and I smile too.

It is already dark. We sit in our seats, quiet for a while. Little Brother twirls the plastic aviator wings the pilot gave him between his fingers. "School starts tomorrow morning," he says. This will be his third school in four years.
"Are you scared?"
"No," he says.
After everything we'd seen there was really nothing left to be afraid of.


We exit the plane in Minneapolis. A tall black man with a red hat gives us a boost into his little ATV - his name tag says Fred. The stewardess is long gone. She left us standing at the gate. The whole building is dark and empty - and for all we know Fred isn't even a real airport employee - he could be taking us to an orphanage, or the cellar, or a shallow grave in the woods. I make a mental note of all the emergency exits we pass. I am 10. I don't know how to drive, but am already plotting how I could knock Fred out with my backpack, and try to steer us to safety. The pedal on the right makes us go fast. That's all I need to know.

The ride seems to take forever. Little brother's eyebrows furrow as he scans the dark concourses. I scratch at my skirt, and watch my brother. He seems to know what he's looking for. For the thousandth time Red Hat asks, "Can you see them yet?" Little brother rolls his eyes at me. No - we can't see them - we can't see anything period. It's nearly pitch black, and even if we could see, we wouldn't recognize these people anyway.

Finally two shadows emerge from a dimly lit corner. Little brother smiles, and the shadows smile back. Red Hat Fred slows down but I won't let Little Brother get out. I don't know these people. It is not my dad's cousin, but his wife and daughter - we think. We met them at a wedding - once.

Little brother tells Red Hat, "That's them."
I grab his arm and speak softly, "Are you sure?" We've already been escorted halfway across the country by a stewardess who ditched us and we've accepted a ride from a total stranger . It's past midnight. I only have on parent and God knows where he is right now. I am on high alert. Little brother is quiet. So I ask him again, "Are you sure?"

He peers at them, biting his lower lip. "Yeah, pretty sure."