Waiting at the Airport (Chapter 1)
“Delayed? Is that all you can tell me?” Axel asked, drumming his index finger on the counter. He ran his fingers through his hair once more before he continued to tap.
“Sir, the television monitors scattered around the airport will let you know if a plane that has been delayed has landed.” The woman behind the counter didn’t look up from the computer screen as she repeated the words. She paused to let out a sigh. “I’m sorry but there is nothing we can really do about it.”
He stopped the tapping and pointed at her. “Look, lady. I’ve been waiting in this line for God knows how long, and what I expect- no, what all of us expect- are some fucking answers.” Her eyes shot up from the screen and narrowed. Her gaze started at the top of Axel’s highest red spike and traveled down until her eyes crossed slightly as she glared at the tip of his index finger.
“Sir, there no need to raise your voice or to use that kind of profanity.” The controlled tone made Axel’s eyes narrow as well.
“Well, if you people-” He waved his hand wildly in the air. “-would just get your shit together. I wouldn’t have to-”
“Do I have to call security?” Her hand was already on top of a worn down phone near the computer.
“No.” He sighed. “I’ll just plant my ass in a chair and wait another three hours.”
“What was that?” She had picked up the phone with one hand and poised her other fingers to start pressing the keypads.
“Nothing. Can you at least let me know if the plane has taken off yet?” She cradled the phone into her chest and raised an eyebrow. Lifting her hand to stifle a yawn, her eyes glazed over as she turned back to the computer screen.
“I’m sorry, sir. Even if I had that information, I would not be able to say. I mean, you could be a threat to national security and all. It’s not like you have a boarding pass, right?” Axel could see the corners of her lips twitch behind her hand.
“Look here, you little twat. I have been here for three fucking hours. The plane which has my uh-significant other on it was supposed to be here at 1:10. It is now 4:00 and all I can see that it is delayed. In fact, all of your shitty little screens say that all of the planes are delayed. What the fuck is going on?!” His pointed finger shook violently at her in sync with every other word that he had spit of his mouth.
Ten minutes later, after some stealthy maneuvering, Axel was in line again right outside of terminal C instead of terminal B, because he had been kicked out and banned from the ticketing area in terminal B. However, his boyfriend’s plane would be landing in terminal B. Therefore, Roxas would be looking for Axel right outside of terminal B where he was not allowed to be. So he waited, sulking, in terminal C, reminding himself why Roxas was the one who dealt with all of the customer service reps.
“Can I help whoever’s next?” a perky blond girl, who was fixated on the computer, called out after 10 minutes of standing behind the counter. As he walked up to her, the look on her face turned from energetic to skeptical. Axel, who had begun to rely on Roxas’s clothes-washing skills, had not done laundry the whole time that he had been gone on his “business”trip. When Axel woke up that morning, an old pair of baggy flannel pajama pants and a sweatshirt that he had painted in were the only things clean in his dresser. Deciding that clean and ugly was better than smelly, he had put them on thinking that he would be able to pick Roxas up from the airport and get home quickly enough so that no one would notice that much.
“I need to know about a delayed flight,” Axel said.
“I’m sorry sir, but if you are asking about any flights that are arriving today you should probably look at the television screens with the schedule posted around the airport to see an approximate time of arrival.” This time, the woman was actually paying attention to him instead of only her computer monitor. Although the corners of her ruby red lips were turned up and her teeth were visible, her blank stare gave Axel the impression that she was not going to be much help. Regardless, he smiled and winked, leaning in towards her.
“Well, there-” He looked pointedly at her at name tag mounted on a full breast. “-Stacy. None of the screens have the approximate time of arrival for the flight that I need information on.” He spoke with a deeper voice and smirked, but stopped when he saw that the girl had stepped back a step or two and squinted at him.
“Um… Sir…”
“Look, I need to know the status of flight 842. My friend was supposed to leave Tampa to get here at around 1:10. I have been here for three -no, three and a half- hours not knowing whether or not the damn plane has actually taken off, let alone what time it will be once it gets here. I need to know what the fuck is going on.” He slammed both of his fists onto the counter startling the girl to jump back further.
“Sir, you need to calm down or I’m going to call security.”
“Fuck security; just tell me about the damn flight!” Axel didn’t shout this time, realizing that there was a limited amount of terminals in this airport that he could get kicked out of. He looked over at the girl who had taken the lowered voice as a cue and had been typing furiously at the keyboard.
“The flight you were talking about is an AirTran flight. You are at a DeltaAir ticketing counter.” She paused, looked at Axel straight in the eyes, and sighed. “I’m sorry, but we can not help you get information on this flight.” She looked away from him and at the computer screen. “However, if you go to over to the AirTran ticketing area located in terminal B, they might be able to give you the information that you need.”
NO! Damn it all to hell! It’s not this girl’s fault. It’s not this girl’s fault. It’s not this girl’s fault. He took at deep breath and yanked at his hair, closing his eyes as he welcomed the pain.
“I can tell you that the reason that we are having these delays is that there was a major system malfunction in JFK airport which led to a lot of flights being delayed and umm… that led to a kind of domino effect…” He opened his eyes and blinked at her. She had just given into one of his demands, but it hadn’t made him feel any better.
“Thanks, I guess. Do you have any idea how I can get information on this flight without going to the ticketing counter at Terminal B? I - err kind of had -umm an incident with them.”
“An incident?” Her eyes narrowed, and he had a déjà vu feeling.
“Yeah. An incident.” Mentally, he dared the airport employee to say something snide, just so he would have an excuse to go off on her again. She glanced to the left and to the right like she was ready to step out onto a busy road.
“How desperate are you?”
“Excuse me?” His voice went up several decibels. Everyone in the area paused to take a look at him. She placed an index finger up to her puckered lips to quiet him.
“Well, you could buy a ticket which would allow you access to the terminal areas of the airport.”
“Huh?”
“You can buy a ticket. It will let you get through security. You can find out about the flight in there.” Her words came out more deliberate than before. Axel’s jaw muscles tightened as he clenched his teeth together.
“You want me to buy a ticket to somewhere? And then not go there?! Where the hell do you get off acting like I’m the retarded one around here?”
“Well, that is the only possibility for you to know about the flights without going to the AirTran ticketing area.” She went back to typing on her keyboard dismissing Axel’s defiant stare. Suddenly, he wondered why it was that he was trying to fight her. All he had to do was give her some money, and he would be able to find out about Roxas’s flight. It was an exchange of goods and services. He needed information; the airline needed the cash. He had been in situations like this before where the services that he wanted had been less urgent. Really, what was fifty more dollars in the great scheme of things?
“Fine.” She looked up startled, but instantly beamed as he reached into his pocket for his wallet. “How much is the cheapest flight out of here?”
“One hundred and forty nine dollars for a roundtrip, non-stop ticket to Detroit, Michigan,” she said without having to look at the screen.
“A hundred and fifty dollars! What the hell? AirTran has those 49 one way trips to Florida. You know, a place where people want to go in December. Why the hell would a ticket to cold-as-fuck Detroit cost almost three hundred dollars? What is the matter with you people?”
“Well, it’s a last minute fare, and we are not AirTran. We provide excellent costumer service,” she huffed.
“Bullshit!” Axel was not paying a hundred and fifty dollars to get information about Roxas’s flight. “How much for the one way trip?”
“Pardon?”
“You said that 149 was for roundtrip? How much for a one-way?”
“Three hundred and twenty nine dollars,” she said after a few strokes on her keyboard.
“Your one way ticket is more than double the cost of a roundtrip ticket?!”
“Sir, I am not the one who determines the rate for these trips.”
“I’m not paying that much for a ticket that I’m not even going to use.” Ready to give in to the inevitable defeat, he put his wallet back into his pocket. “Thanks for nothing.”
“Wait! I can give you a discount!” She projected her voice, and he raised an eyebrow. She vigorously typed once again on her keyboard. “I can give you 10 percent off if you become a DeltaAir Visa holder today. Your total will be around 130. Plus, you get an extra 20 credit that you can use for your next DeltaAir ticket.” One hundred and thirty still seemed like a lot to him, but the 20 dollar credit which would save 20 the next time Roxas wanted to go on a trip, and that would mean the ticket would essentially cost 110. One hundred and ten dollars was significantly less than one hundred and fifty dollars. “You can also enjoy the quality stores and restaurants that we have here at the airport.”
“Fine.”
“I just need an ID and a major credit card, and I will go ahead and charge it to your new DeltaAir Visa Gold card. You will get frequent flyer miles for this flight as well which can be accumulated and used towards a free flight. If you go on our website, you can use the card at any one of our sponsoring-”
“Look, I don’t need the whole shpiel. Just tell me where to sign.” While typing, she handed him an application to fill out. When the tickets and the receipt were printed, he felt better about getting something done. Until…“What the hell is this? You said this was only going to be 110.”
“I said that the total would be about 130, and with taxes and fees, your grand total comes out to be... 168.24.”
“Ya, I can see the grand total on the receipt.” Pressing hard on the pen, he signed his name quickly before he had the chance to change his mind.
“Thank you for choosing DeltaAir Mr.-”
“Ya, ya. Just give me the damn ticket.”
“Have a nice flight.” He frowned at her sheepish expression. “Sorry, that was out of habit.”
A small boy behind him had decided to cry loudly a half an hour into Axel’s wait in line through security. The boy, who had messy brown hair and dark brown eyes, had been playing with a small rubber ball, making it soar through the air against the wall in front of Axel. However, the parents’ disregard for the safety of others, which Axel noticed as the ball whizzed past him for the fourth time, made him wish he lived in China where there were laws that regulated human breeding. On the fifth time, the ball hit the back of Axel’s head, so he reached out, snatched it and placed it into his pocket. That was when the wailing started, and for a moment he reveled in the sound. But reality hit when he realized that the boy was shrieking just a few yards behind him, and he wasn’t going to quit anytime soon.
“Jr., what is the matter with you?” The father was finally paying attention to his son. Axel tried to imagine the boy’s puffy face hoping that it was streaked with tears. He didn’t dare turn around just yet. If he just acted like an innocent bystander, he reasoned that just might get away with his larceny.
“I l-lost my baaaaaallllll! Bozo took my baaaallllll!” Bozo?
“You need to quit! Do you hear me? We are not going to go to see Mickey if you keep this up. Is that understood?” Axel heard a woman whisper angrily. The wailing stopped in an instant. The rest of the wait was surprisingly enjoyable as Axel handled the prize that he held in his pocket, smirking at the moping boy as he turned each corner following the line.
Axel was still fingering the rubber ball as he made his way towards terminal B to find out more about Roxas’s flight.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Axel was at the gate where Roxas’s plane was going to land. He had paid more than 150 so that he would know what going on, and he still had no idea where Roxas was.
“Sir, I don’t know where you got the idea that we would have any additional information on the arriving flights, because we don’t. I suppose we would be the first to know, but the ticketing agent that you checked in with should have had access to the same information. Also, there is a toll free number you could call for up to date information on the flight. 1-800-Air-Tran. It’s been pretty hectic today so I sincerely apologize for your inconvenience. Is your departure time on your ticket 2:00 or 6:00?”
If it had been anyone else, Axel would have probably tried to ring his long skinny fingers around the person’s neck, but this airport employee had three things going for him: blue eyes, sandy blond hair, and a strong jaw line. Axel had a thing for blonds. Axel had a thing for blue eyes. And before Roxas, Axel had a thing for strong jaw lines. So instead of shouting or slamming his fist into something, he stopped blaming all of the ignorant airport workers just for this moment.
“Uhh… two o’clock,” he lied, not knowing how else to end the conversation. The employee’s musky cologne lingered in the air.
“I’ll make announcements over the intercom, and you can keep an eye on the television monitors updating the arrival times. In the mean time, there is always a great selection of stores you can visit throughout the airport.”
“Thanks,” Axel mumbled before leaving the counter, allowing the next person in an extremely long line to speak with the man.
Having nothing else to do, he thought it would be best to relax in the general vicinity until he got bored enough to try shopping. However, all of the chairs and the available floor space in the area were already taken.
Suddenly, a small sign spelling out ‘Jet Rock Bar & Grill’ caught his eye. He slowed his pace and stared through the thick glass that stood as a wall separating the bar from the rest of the airport. A huge group of men in shiny green jerseys were sitting at the lacquered pine bar and yelling at the big screen TV mounted over various liquor bottles. Axel could make out the shapes and colors of the bottles, and the name of each drink came to his mind as he gazed at them. A gap, between where the glass wall ended and the back wall of the bar, was used as the entryway. A boisterous cheer came from the bar, and the men hugged each other, spilling their frothy beers.
He looked away from the scene and sped up when he saw an opened floor space with a column that obstructed the view of the bar. After fifteen minutes, he was lucky enough that the flight of a bickering couple sitting next to him was called. Stretching his limbs as far as they would go, he lay down, purposefully thwarting the plan of a family of six who was eyeing the coveted spot. The hard floor hurt his back, but he would not give in to the family’s needs. He closed his eyes and ignored the glares and defeated faces of the group.
Half asleep, Axel was aware that he was dreaming. Something nimble was grabbing his leg and reaching around his thigh. He laughed from being tickled by the fingers and tried to swat away whatever it was that was softy touching him. The persistent thing squeezed his quad tightly before being two inches away from violating Axel.
His eyes opened slowly, getting used to the blinding light directly above him, and he was disappointed that his dream was ending. Only, there was still something brushing against his leg, but instead of the aggressive movement he had felt while dreaming, this squirming thing was calmer. Now fully awake, he saw a boy with a head full of brown hair tucked against his own body and the floor with most of this boy’s arm in Axel’s pocket.
Axel flung the boy’s arm out like it was a venomous snake and scrambled away until he was a safe distance away. He scoured the area around him trying to find anybody who had witnessed what just happened. The area had thinned out since he had fallen asleep and he sighed in relief. He didn’t see anyone awake except for the pouting boy who was sitting Indian style on the spot Axel had left him.
“What the hell-eck, err- heck, were you doing?” Axel asked, sitting flush against the pale green wall while still trying to scoot further away from the boy who crossed his arms.
“I want my ball,” the boy demanded. His lower lip quivered slightly, and it dawned on Axel that this indeed was the little boy who he had stolen the rubber ball from. “You have my ball.”
“Look, kid. You can’t go around sticking your hands into other people’s pants pockets. Commit that to memory.”
“You took it from me. You stole it.”
“Maybe if you weren’t bouncing it around everywhere, you wouldn’t have lost it.”
“I want it. Give it back.”
“Finder’s keepers. Losers weepers.” Axel shrugged, trying to use language that the child would understand.
“But that’s not fair,” he whined.
“Life’s not fair, kid.” Axel craved a cigarette, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to smoke in the building. Standing to get a better view of his surroundings, he decided that it was not worth it to leave the airport terminal and have to go through the security line again. Taking the rubber ball out of his pocket, he angled it up to the light to show it off to the boy. “Where are your parents, anyway?”
“Sleepin’,” the miserable boy said and looked at the ground.
“Maybe, you should go wake them up.”
“First, I’m gonna get my ball,” he boy lunged, but lacked any finesse, and ended up sprawled on the floor with Axel dangling the ball above him.
“No, you’re not,” Axel said secretly basking in the power that he had over the young boy.
“You’re mean!” A couple tears rolled down the boy’s chubby face filling Axel with satisfaction. “You’re the meanest clown ever!”
“Clown?” Axel asked, frowning. He reached up and rubbed his right cheek where one of his black triangle tattoos were located. “I am not a clown.”
“You were at my birthday party. I liked you before. I don’t like you now.”
“Look, kid. I’m not a clown.”
“Uh-huh.” The boy crouched on his haunches and leaped trying to catch Axel off guard. He missed the ball by three feet.
“No I’m- God. Why am I arguing with a five year old?” Axel muttered.
“I’m not five. I’m six.”
“Whatever.” Axel rolled his eyes.
“I want my ball,” the boy shouted. A bald man with a newspaper in his lap stopped snoring in a seat nearby.
“Well, we can’t always have what we want. Trust me. You’ll thank me when you get older.”
“But it’s Bobby’s ball. He’s my best friend.”
“First, you tell me it’s your ball; now, it’s your friend’s. You’re going to have to suck it up and tell him that you lost his ball, kid.”
“I can’t.”
“What do mean, you can’t? You have to.”
“No.” The boy mimicked Axel’s eye rolling gesture. “I can’t.”
“Why not, smart-a-err pants, smarty-pants?”
“He’s dead.” The boy’s matter-of-fact tone sounded more like he was talking about his lifeless pet rock.
“I, uh, I’m sorry, kid.” Axel’s guilt finally kicked in and collided with his shell-shocked stomach.
“Mommy says he’s in heaven.”
“Well, uh. That’s nice.”
“Mommy says that in heaven, everybody’s happy. I saw a picture of it. It was white and gold and pretty.” The little boy rocked back and forth on his feet with his hands behind his back.
“Look, kid, you want your ball back?” Axel was willing to give up the beloved ball to shut the kid up. The boy’s eyes widened, and he nodded his head energetically causing his thick hair to shake as one heap. “You’re not going to bounce it off someone’s head, are you?”
“Uh-uh.”
“Here.” Axel tossed the rubber ball which hit the child’s palm and fell to the floor.
“Thanks, Bozo!” The boy squealed as he climbed under a row of chair to chase the bouncing ball.
“The name’s Axel, not Bozo.”
“Ax-el… I like your name,” the boy cooed as he held the ball tightly in his tiny hand. “I’m going to Disney World.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh. I’m going to see Mickey and Minnie for breakfast.”
“That’s fascinating, kid.” Axel counted the number of chairs in each row.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m waiting for someone. You know, you really shouldn’t talk to strangers.”
“You’re Axel. You’re not a stran-”
“Junior! Where have you been? I have been looking everywhere for you,” a tired blonde in his late twenties with a trimmed goatee shouted and ran to the child. Ready to scold him, the man squatted to the level of the six year old grasping his shoulders. “Don’t ever do that again.”
“Sorry, Daddy.” The boy turned his lip out and sniffed. As his father hugged him, Axel watched the smiling child roll the ball in his hand. “It’s ok. Axel’s here with me.”
“Axel?” Noticing Axel for the first time, the father pulled away from the boy and narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?”
“I-uh- he thought I was a clown.”
“Oh, I am so sorry.” His expression melted to a weary one as he held the boy’s hand and turned to walk away. “He tends to wander away.”
“Bye, Axel.” He boy waved vigorously.
“Bye, kid.” Axel laughed as he wiggled his fingers. He walked towards the gate where Roxas’ plane would land.
The anger welling inside of Axel intensified as he read ‘canceled’ on the board behind the attractive airport employee who had talked with him earlier. His strong jaw line begged for Axel’s fist to make contact with it. Ready to organize a protest with the other people in the crowd, he balled his fist and thought about throwing it up in the air while shouting ‘Hell, no. We won’t go.’ The crowd’s subdued murmur caused Axel to stop his mutinous ideas.
Confused, he watched as a father gently kissed the top of his teenage daughter’s head, pulling her closer to him. Two women in their sixties standing nearest to the counter sighed as they made the sign of the cross: forehead, chest, shoulder to shoulder. Other people in the group whispered amongst themselves shaking their heads in disbelief. A flickering flatscreen television blared about 100 meters away, running a clever cell phone commercial.
“I’m not going to make it, Dave. My flight and all of the other flights to Tampa have been canceled.” One man in a grey pin-striped suit cursed as he shouted into this cell phone. The man stood silently for a moment presumably listening to whatever was being said to him before he replied. Swooping down to grab his brown briefcase, he rushed away from the group. “Oh, yeah. I guess I can try another airline.”
“This just in as our top story tonight.” Everyone turned their attention to the television screen which had just flashed an airplane being engulfed by a ball of rolling orange flames in the middle of a cornfield. Axel was the only one gaping at the sight. The front half of the plane was charred black while the back was not visible through the hungry fire licking the frame. “AirTran’s flight 842, a Boeing 717, non-stop from Tampa to Philadelphia crashed at 3:00 in the afternoon today in Maryland. The cause is unknown and an unofficial source from AirTran has told us that there are no survivors…”
“Flight 842?” he whispered. Axel couldn’t have heard what he just heard or seen what he had just seen. Gripping to the back of one chairs lining the area, his knuckles turned white from the force he was driving into the black leather.
“Where have you been?” an obese man in a Cub’s jacket asked Axel. “The story’s been playing non-stop for the last ten minutes. Just be glad that you aren’t one of those poor souls on the plane.”
“It has to be some mistake…” Axel started. “A big mistake. I need…a quarter. I need to make a call. Does anyone have a quarter?” He looked at the hodgepodge of people around him. The fat man reached around the folds in his body to grab a coin out of his pocket.
“There you go,” the man said as he placed two quarters in Axel’s hands. “I think it takes more than a quarter these days.”
“Thanks,” Axel said.
“No problem.”
Axel raced around, searching for a pay phone, a sign for a pay phone, or someone who could tell him where a payphone was. At the sight of the obsolete black box, he tore through a small group of women and grabbed the smooth plastic handle. Fingers shaking, he had to try three times before the quarter slid into the slot. The satisfying clank as the quarter hit the other coins liberated Axel until he saw that the man was right and he would have to put another coin in. It took longer to get the second one in, and he needed a cigarette.
The dull repetitive dial tone became Axel’s favorite melody before he rushed to press the numbers he knew by heart. The phone didn’t ring, but went right to voice mail.
“You’ve reached Roxas’ voicemail. Leave a message.” A woman’s voice went on about waiting for a beep. When Axel finally did hear the beep, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do.
“Hey, Roxas. It’s me. Just call me as soon as you get this message.” Axel placed the phone back and held his hand over it. Unsure how Roxas was going to call him when Axel didn’t have his cell phone, he searched his mind for something else that would let him know that the plane did not crash. Anything. Roxas never turned his phone off. However since he was traveling, the battery could be dead, and Axel could have misheard the flight number. The question on that kept nagging at Axel like a relentless house fly was ‘Then where is Roxas?’
His arm dropped to his side, and he stared at the phone wishing that it would ring. That’s what was supposed to happen. The phone was supposed to ring. Roxas was supposed to tell him that it wasn’t flight 842, but flight 824, and Axel was an idiot for getting the flight wrong.
A roar from across the hall broke Axel out of his trance, and he turned his head away from the phone. The bar stood just a few feet away. The noise grew louder as the men, who now had on red jerseys, jumped around when a puck entered the net. The game was interrupted as a newscaster popped up on the screen, triggering a groan from the group.
“Top story tonight. Flight 842 non-stop flight from Tampa to Philadelphia crashed with 109 people onboard…” Axel took the phone off of its handle and repeatedly smacked it against the concrete wall. Clank “cause” clank “but” clank “tell” clank “no survivors” clank clank clank clank.
“Sir.” A blonde uniformed female airport employee touched his shoulder firmly. Her clear grey eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I am going to have to ask you to stop. What do you think you are doing?”
“Nothing. Just-nothing,” Axel said, wryly. “There was a fly on the wall.”
“Oh.” She stepped back and narrowed her eyes, before she turned to walk away from him. Her white three inch heals tapped loudly against the shiny white granite floor. The people sitting around him looked down at their laps as he scanned the area. A group of men and women dressed in suits darted away gossiping about the lisp of one of their co-workers.
Axel looked over at the bar again and stood up. It only took forty six seconds to disregard everything that he had learned in the last couple of year and realize that having a beer never hurt anyone. It was just one beer after all, and he deserved it for what Roxas was doing to him right now, making him worry incessantly. He would have just one and walk away, not because he needed it, but he damn well wanted it to calm his nerves. To loosen him up. It was just one fucking beer. As he walked past the thick glass and entered the room with painted blue walls, the mirror behind the dimly lit bar emphasized the luster of the different colored bottles. He fingered the rim of the black pad on the bar stool before he dragged it closer to him and sat. His elbows rested in the familiar position that he had been avoiding for so long.
“Can I help you?” the bartender asked with a grin. The bar itself was not crowded. The men behind Axel who were engrossed in the hockey game just created that impression to the people outside of the bar.
“Yeah. Can I get a Yuengling?”
“Sure thing.”
Let it not be said that baseball games are not exciting. Axel guzzled down his umpteenth drink in the last couple of hours, and he was enjoying a wonderful conversation with one of the obviously closeted sports fanatics. Apparently, the man was passionate about the low salary of basketball players, and how it was fair to push people into the goal post when the batter threw the puck. Axel didn’t give a flying fuck about Roxas, and he was happy as a clam with a big fat pearl hidden in its shell. A pink pearl, an irritating foreign object tearing at its owner’s raw flesh. Axel had not had enough to drink.
“Gimme another one.” Axel slammed down the glass onto the shiny wood to alert the bartender. He turned to the short stocky blonde man who had been educating him about sports which he cared nothing about. Axel searched through the dusty corners of his foggy brain to think of how he used to pick people up. “Look. You wanna go somewhere so we can get to know each other better?”
“Huh?” Confused hazel eyes fell short of the deep blue eyes that Axel longed for.
“Nothing. Never mind.”
“Did you just hit on me?” The closeted man’s wrinkled forehead turned dangerously red from the blood rushing to his face.
“No, forget it.” An unexpected meaty fist collided with Axel face, but he didn’t feel much of it as he toppled off of the stool and landed onto the floor, smacking his temple on the bottom of the stool next to him. He got back up to retaliate, steadying his shaky limbs as he struggled to stand. The room spun before he was socked in the stomach and hurled into the pine bar. Something inside of him gave as his body connected with the unyielding solid slab. The air was knocked out of his lungs, but he turned back towards the furious man who was now being held back by four men in red jerseys. Axel laughed after regaining his breath, clutching his stomach to hide the dull pain. He smirked before attempting to juggle his stool back to its original position. When he couldn’t accomplish the complicated task, he picked up his glass and slammed it back down. “One more for the road.”
“I think you’ve had enough. You should leave.” The young bartender said as he cowered near the cash register.
“What? No. You don’t get it.”
“I’m going to call security, if you don’t leave.”
“Fuck you, bastard,” Axel yelled as he teetered away. “Fuck all of you.”
Hobbling in a zigzagged line across the floor, he made it to the entrance without looking back. Leaning against the glass, he thought of going to the duty free shop to purchase a bottle of Greygoose. The shrill sound of a phone ringing from one of the black boxes across the hall cut through the bustle around him like a razor-sharp bone saw. Using every available delayed synapsing neuron left in his brain, he focused all of his attention on the ringing phone and sprinted. After tumbling over his feet three times and making it to the wrong phone, he grabbed the ringing phone in triumph.
“Hello, Roxas?” Axel breathed into phone. “Roxas? Are you there?”
No one answered. Axel concluded in his drunken stupor that he must have missed Roxas’s call and needed to get some more quarters to call him back. He staggered back to the bar.
“Sir, I told you-” the bartender started.
“I need quarters. Just give me some quarters,” Axel said.
“I can’t just give you-”
“I’ll give you twenty dollars, if you give me ten dollars in quarters.” Axel pulled out a twenty from his wallet. All of the men in red jerseys were glaring at him; the ignored game in the background was the only sound in the bar.
“Fine.” After the cash register opened, the exchange was made between them. Axel stumbled back into the hallway to make his phone call. The coins spilled after he tore though the plastic cover, causing a cascade of small clanks to reverberate from the ground. Axel clumsily kneeled and grappled at the quarters closest to him. After concentrating hard on his voluntary arm movements, two quarters were pushed into the slot. He punched Roxas’ number unsure if he had hit the right ones.
“You’ve reached Roxas’ voicemail. Leave a message.” Axel waited for the high-pitched beep.
“Roxas, I know you just called. So call me back.” Axel hung up unsure why his blonde hadn’t picked up his cell phone. He slid two more quarters into the phone and punched the buttons again.
“You’ve reached Roxas’ voicemail. Leave a message.” Axel waited for the high-pitched beep again.
“Look, Roxas. I don’t know why you’re not picking up, but you have to call me back.” Axel hung up again and put two more quarters that he had to pick up from the ground into the slot.
“You’ve reached Roxas’ voicemail. Leave a message.”
“Roxas, guess what? It’s me again. I don’t know why your not picking up your damn phone, but you need to pick it up when it rings,” Axel slurred before the click. His sweaty palm attempted to grab a handful of quarters off of the floor. Two more were pushed into the slot.
“You’ve reached Roxas’ voicemail. Leave a message.”
“Alright, you little bastard. I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but you’d damn well better call me soon.” Axel slammed the phone into its cradle. The quarters on the floor were dwindling away. He put two more in.
“You’ve reached Roxas’ voicemail. Leave a message.”
“Look. Forget the last message. Just come home. Okay? I’ll stop being like this. I swear. I’ll stop. I’ll be good. Hell, I’ll stop smoking. I’m sorry… for everything. Just come home. I-” The sound of a second beep signaled to Axel that he was at the end of the time limit for his message. Swallowing the regurgitated alcohol creeping up into the back of his mouth, he searched the floor for two more quarters. After he found two hiding under his shoe, he plunked the coins into the slot.
“You’ve reached Roxas’ voicemail. Leave a message.” Axel wished for a rewind button to go back and listen to Roxas’s voice again and again. The phone company would cut his line soon, and there would be no way for him to listen to Roxas anymore.
“Please. Don’t be gone. What am I going to do without you? Who’s going to make sure I don’t fuck up? I-I love you too much for you to be gone.” Axel stood still until he heard the second beep. After sliding down to the floor with his back against the wall, he sat on the cold hard granite floor, allowing the phone dangle in front of him. The pain mingling with the nausea was impossible to push out of his foggy mind.
Thoughts of a fiery plane tumbling out of a crimson sky like a renegade missile would not leave no matter how much alcohol his blood absorbed. The clip played in his mind like a movie, but the people were real. Screaming, crying, jostling in their seats, ready for their death, real. Documentaries and the news were real, but this was real. He couldn’t change the channel; he couldn’t feel the pang of sympathy before turning away to eat dinner with Roxas, to go out with Roxas, to bug Roxas, because Roxas wasn’t there. Axel became the sobbing woman clutching her dead baby’s blanket, the mother who lost her only son at war, the victim after victim that he pitied but instantly forgot daily when watching the evening news with Roxas.
Gnawing on his index finger, he held back tears welling in his eyes. What an awful way to die, to have the time to comprehend what was inevitably going to happen without having the time to say goodbye. To be completely hopeless for two, five, or however many minutes it took to get the plane to hit the ground. It wouldn’t have been painful. For the sake of his sanity, it wasn’t painful. His hollow chest ached as Axel wished that he believed in something spiritual so that he could feel better about the non-existence that once was Roxas.
“Axel.” A young voice caused him to lift his heavy head. The boy from earlier was bouncing his ball as high as he could propel it as adults ran around him. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” Axel whispered. The boy stopped bouncing the ball and trotted over to Axel. “Scram, kid.”
“You smell like grandpa,” the boy said, swinging his hips awkwardly.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“Why not?”
“Because I said so.”
“I can’t find my daddy.” The boy sat next to Axel, crossing his wrists over his knees mimicking the man’s posture.
“Go find someone that gives a fuck, kid.” Axel shook his head as the boy visibly gasped.
“Are you done?”
“Done?” Axel thought that the kid must have gone through puberty and grown a set in the few minutes of silence that they had shared.
“Done waitin’?”
“Waiting?”
“You said you were waitin’ for somebody.”
“I’m done,” Axel whispered. Continually clenching his jaw muscles and swallowing the saliva dry from his mouth could not prevent one of his tears from rolling down his cheek. He envied the blissful ignorance that the child possessed.
“Here.” The boy held out his bouncy ball in the center of his opened palm. “Take it.”
“I’m not taking your ball, kid.” The boy got up and surprised Axel by fitting his tiny arms around his spiky hair. Small wet lips smacked against Axel’s forehead.
“Mommy gives me kisses when it hurts. She kisses where it hurts, and I feel better. She says that it’s gonna be ok.” The boy tugged at Axel’s fingers and placed the ball into his palm. The ball was blue, identical to the color of Roxas’ eyes. “There’s my mommy. I gotta go see her. Bye, Axel.”
“Bye, kid.” Axel watched the boy weave through the people to where his mother was waving her arms at an airport employee. The woman got down on her knees and hugged the boy as soon as the child tugged at her knee length cream skirt. She picked him up and walked further down the terminal, until she turned into one of waiting areas and out of Axel’s line of sight. Looking at the blue rubber ball, he knew it was time to go home. After a couple attempts, he was able to steady himself on his wobbly limbs and hobble away from the phone.