The Trip

Everyone told me I was brave, but I wasn’t. I also hated being alone, so I read to pass the time, especially during that summer. I packed books I bought at the Book Fair, and not much else, to get through the flight there to see her. I missed my Mom, but I really wanted to stay home.  

I pulled my seat belt over my shoulder, and Daddy backed the car out of the driveway. I envied kids I knew who traveled to see one of their parents by car, or rode a bus, which Daddy insisted wasn’t very safe. I’d flown before, with both my parents, before Mom moved to Texas where she found a new job in her field. I was OK to fly, but I was a bit worried about what might happen along the way. I just wasn’t ready, even though they both thought I was.

“Evie, did you go through the list again, make sure you have everything?” Daddy reached inside my backpack, as if he needed to search it. I really hated that, like I would really sneak something illegal onto the plane.

“Yes, Daddy, I checked twice, and there’s nothing else in my bag. Just my phone, journal, books and snacks, I promise.” 

“OK, just trying to make sure you have what you need.”

“I do, but if I need something, I doubt Mom will mind.” His fingers gripped the wheel, and he squinted as he fixed his eyes on the road. I saw his sunglasses on the table beside the door, and I should have grabbed them. It’s always the things we see, but dismiss, that we wish later we hadn’t ignored.

“Well, yeah, but I’ll have to—”

“You’ll have to do what, Daddy?”

He shook his head. “Nothing, Evie.” I always know when he wants to say something about Mom. She did it too, and I didn’t like it either way. At least they weren’t fighting and keeping me up late at night.  

Traffic inched along, and we were still about 10 minutes from the airport. Daddy tapped the steering wheel after he glanced at the clock for at least the fifth time since we left home.

The growls grew louder. “I’m so hungry.”

Daddy shrugged. “I told you to have more than just yogurt and berries, but you know you.”

“I know.”

I dug around inside my bag, and found what he’d done—slipped a wad of $20 bills in the front pocket.

“We do have time, Evie, if you want to stop for something else to eat.”

“You know she hates it when I eat that stuff.”

Daddy cocked his head. “Are you gonna tell her you ate fries?”

“She always knows, somehow.” I lifted my head and gazed out the window. “It’s OK, we need to get there. I’ll be fine.”

Daddy eyed the clock again. “I knew we should have left earlier.” 

“Why are we rushing, anyway? I really can do this on my own, I know the route.”

He nodded. “I know you can do this, but there’s paperwork I have to do before you can board, Evie.”

Fifteen minutes later, we parked the car, gathered my bags, and power walked to the terminal. Daddy slung my backpack onto his shoulder and tucked the manila folder under his arm.

“I can carry my own bag.”

    “I know you can, let’s just get there.”

            It was early, but the lines were already stretched well past the check-in area. Daddy led us to our desk, and the signage for parents who were dropping off their unaccompanied minors was smaller, where one agent waited. Luckily, the process took less time than I thought, and I was headed to the security station before too long.

Daddy tucked the folder under his arm again. “So this is it, huh?” He looked down at our clasped hands, and I knew he was hiding his face from me.

“It’s only six weeks, and then school will start. You’ll be ready for me to leave again.”

Daddy looked up and smiled, ignoring the tear tracks on his cheek. “No, I won’t.” 

He pulled me into his arms, and I couldn’t breathe for how tightly he held me. The last time I felt like this was two years ago when they told me what they planned to do. I thought he’d never let me go, and Mom rubbed my arms. I willed myself not to cry that morning when she left and saved my tears for those nights I couldn’t sleep, even on the new pillow Daddy bought when I told him about my headaches. Some pains can’t ever be soothed. 

“Daddy, I’ve got to go. I’ll turn my phone on as soon as we’re on the ground at DFW.”

He kissed my forehead. “And don’t just text, call me, no matter how late it is when y’all get home, promise?”

I nodded and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. Daddy reached into his pocket and pressed a tissue into my palm before he walked away. That’s the thing I never understood about him. I knew that he cared, but I heard my father say “I love you”, twice. And that day she left was the last time. Some of my classmates have told me their dads say tell them all the time, even some of the guys I know whose parents are no longer together. Just another thing I should let go…

A few minutes later, I placed my shoes on the conveyor, and soon, i’m through security and ready to board. A dark-haired tall attendant approached when I had settled in the lounge. 

“Evangeline Harrison?” Her voice reminded me of honey slipping over ice cubes, smoother and warmer than my mother’s voice, especially when she’s angry or stressed.

“Yes, ma’am, I’m Evangeline Harrison. You can call me Evie.” I stood, and my novel slid to the carpet. 

Her hands were soft yet ice cold, but her smile put me at ease. “I’m Jennifer Terry, I’ll be on your flight this afternoon. How are you?”

I reached down for my book, but Jennifer was faster. 

“Thank you, ma’am, I’m OK, a little hungry, but otherwise, ready, I guess.”

“That’s good to hear. Well, do you need anything other than some lunch?”

I shook my head, “I took some anti-nausea meds earlier, and I’ve packed some sticks of gum for my ears, in case I need it.”

Jennifer smiled again. “You are ready, and it’s not your first time flying, am I correct?”

“Yes, ma’am, just my first time flying as an unaccompanied minor.”

“You’re 13?”

I chuckled. “No ma’am, I’ll turn 12 in November.”

Jennifer nodded. “You seem mature for your age.” 

“So I’ve been told.” I glanced over at the regular waiting area, which had now become nearly full.

“Well, we’ll board in less than 20 minutes, and I’ll be busy, but I’d feel better if you stay put ‘til then, OK? There will be another of you, at least that’s what I was told. They’re cutting it close.” Jennifer checked her watch again.

“I’ll be fine here either way.”

She patted my shoulder and hurried back to the desk.

I cradled my book again in my lap. I was in the middle of a crazy scene when a tiny shadow loomed over me.

“Can I sit by you?” The voice was whisper soft, and I lifted my gaze to rest upon a girl with a pink backpack almost as big as she, in a ruffled pink blouse and jeans. She couldn’t have been older than eight.

I closed my book. “You sure can. I think we’ll board soon.”

The little girl teetered on the edge of the chair and held the armrest in a stranglehold.

“Have you ever flown before?” I lowered my voice and spoke slowly. 

She shook her head. “No. I’m kinda scared.”

I shifted to the edge of my seat. “My name is Evie, and I’m going to see my mom, in Texas. So, maybe we can sit together. I can ask Ms. Jennifer to try and seat us together, if she can.”

She managed a slow smile. “It’s OK. My mom said I have to be brave.” 

“I’ll bet you are. May I ask your name?”

She extended her hand, her nails polished in a color to match her bag. “I”m Samantha, and I’m going to Texas to see my daddy. He lives in Dallas.”

I chuckled. “It’s nice to meet you, Samantha. I’m going to a place nearby. My mom lives in Fort Worth, where she teaches.”

“What grade does she teach?”

“Well, she works at a university, so her students aren’t in a grade.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll be in 7th grade this year. What grade are you?”

Samantha gave me a long look. “I’ll be in second grade. I’m not really excited.”

“Why not?”

She cast her eyes down. “Everyone calls me a baby, because I’m so small. And I can’t read so good.”

My throat went dry, and I didn’t want to say anything to make her feel worse. “Just give yourself time, Samantha, you’ll grow and get better in everything. Sometimes people say things to make themselves feel important.”

“That sounds like something my mom said once.” Samantha’s eyes swept over me.

“Well, she’s probably pretty great.”

“She’s the best! Do you miss your mommy?”

My eyes began to sting, and I nodded. ”So much, yeah.”

Samantha stretched her arm and covered my hand with her warm palm. “You’ll see her soon, Evie. Don’t cry.”

For the second time in an hour, a warm embrace left me breathless and hopeful. It was the first time I realized that what I needed most couldn’t fit in a backpack or anything else I could carry, and I was grateful I didn’t miss its arrival.