Departures and Arrivals

Content Warning: Death

By 12:01 am the lines were already backed up farther than infinity stretched.

I followed Sharlene to my booth with the little gate that would open to let them through. I didn’t know it would be like this. I had heard stories of the crowds, but there were so many waiting. I started to feel panic creeping in, but Sharlene turned around and looked at me and I choked it down. It was obvious by her whole demeanor that she didn’t take any crap. I figured if I showed any apprehension, she’d probably fire me on the spot. She had a large, intimidating frame and looked like she’d been working her position for a long time. She was obviously someone who worked hard and was rightfully a supervisor.

“Now,” she said as we hovered outside my booth, “it’s going to be a pretty nonstop ride for at least the next 20 hours. Every single one of them needs to have their itinerary reviewed. If you have questions, hit the red button.”

She pointed at a big red button in the booth. The only other control on the whole panel was a large lever which I presumed was used to open the gate.

“But understand,” and for this she got really close to my face, “DO NOT hit the red button frequently. I’ve got a lot of work to do myself between both Departures and Arrivals tonight and I don’t need to be running over here every five minutes to help you. If you’re unsure, make sound judgement calls. Refer to your training.”

Oh yes, the training. The very helpful training, which consisted of a 35-minute video going over the basics of how to review an itinerary. Of course, in the video there were only 3 people in line, not the stadium number of individuals presented before me.

It was a ridiculous night to have as my first night, the absolute busiest night of the year, but that was the whole reason I got hired in the first place. They needed the extra hands. I looked out across the sea of toll booths in the Departures terminal with me. My booth had a red light above it to show it wasn’t yet in commission. All the green lights glowed around me, and I saw how fast their attendants were processing the patrons. One after another, after another, so fast. I doubted I’d be able to keep up with that pace.

“Are we clear? Do you have any questions before I go?” Sharlene’s stare burrowed into me.

Without having a moment to answer, she reached into the booth and pulled that large lever and the gate opened.

“This is how you open the gate. Good luck,” she said with zero indication of hope or confidence. She closed the gate, flipped a switch from somewhere inside the booth I didn’t see, and my light turned green. She took off and the moment the crowds saw a new lane open they immediately flooded to fill it. There was a thick yellow line about 5 feet from my window the patrons were supposed to wait behind in “an orderly fashion” before I waved them over to my window one at a time. They pushed past one another eager to be the first in line. When I saw them coming towards me, I scurried quickly into my booth.

Inside the booth there was barely enough room for the chair they’d supplied me with. Think of the tollbooths on the New Jersey Turnpike and you’ll get the idea.

I swallowed hard and then leaned out the window and waved the first one over to me.

“Hello,” a perky, if not haughty voice said. She appeared rapid-fire in front of me with perfectly curled blonde hair, not a strand out of place, with a baby pink headband and lipstick, and what looked to be a high-end, 80’s style cocktail dress. With her white-gloved hands, she pushed her rolled up itinerary into my booth like she was handing me a newspaper.

“Good evening, er, good morning, I guess,” I said sheepishly, unrolling the document. My eyes glanced over the relevant details:

Date: October 31

In as much detail as possible, please describe the purpose of your visit: Visiting ex-husband

Proposed Time of Return: 11:59 pm

The first one and I already needed more information. 

“Ma’am, under purpose of your visit, you didn’t state why you were visiting your ex-husband,” I said kindly, showing her on the page with my finger the place where more information was needed.

When I looked down at her she was re-applying her lipstick with a compact she’d taken out of her purse. She looked up at me as though I were distracting her from finishing the Sistine Chapel, and then stated, snarkily:

“Well, isn’t it obvious? I have to show him what he’s been missing.”

She looked back at her mirror and popped her lips.

My job was mostly to assess any kind of threat we were sending through the gates. This woman didn’t seem like a threat. A bit rude, but not a threat. She’d obviously chosen her best form to travel to Earth. I’d heard people do that. When they go to Earth, they either choose the best-looking version of themselves or whatever version of themselves the person they’re visiting will recognize the most. I don’t know if her husband was going to be able to see her, but she sure was planning for it.

“I understand, ma’am,” I said plainly. I stamped her form and handed it back to her. “Please be sure to stick to your plans, have a great time, and be back before midnight.”

With that I pulled the lever and my first one was off for the night. After she passed through and disappeared, I closed the gate. “Be back before midnight” was how I was supposed to end every interaction before I opened the gate. The video was quite clear about that.

It was my understanding that the Departures terminal was normally relatively slow. Special permission was required to go to Earth, but Halloween was different. On Halloween, these gates were always swamped. It was the one night of the year anybody non-human or previously human (aka spirit) could travel to Earth if they had a completed itinerary and a reason that didn’t involve harming anybody.

I stuck out my arm and waved for the next patron. A small, balding man with thick glasses came up to the window.

“Good evening, Miss,” he said quite cheerily.

I smiled at him as I took his form. He had a nice demeanor about him which I appreciated after the pink lady. I looked at his itinerary:

Date: October 31

In as much detail as possible, please describe the purpose of your visit: Would like to visit my daughter in the form of a black cat to let her know I am okay.

Proposed Time of Return: 11:59 pm

Thankfully, the video had covered situations like these.

“Sir, I see you’re going to be traveling today in cat form. Do you have the authorized transfiguration permit?”

He touched his head in a gesture of absentmindedness.

“Oh, how silly of me! I am so sorry, young lady. I have that here. You know it’s my first time traveling as an animal. I should have been more prepared. I’m a bit nervous.”

He fumbled around in his pockets until he was able to produce the document.

“It’s not a problem at all,” I said as I took the form from him. Everything looked in order.

“This looks fine, sir. I’ll need you to transfigure now.”

“Right, right, of course.”

He stood back from the booth a little, closed his eyes and scrunched his face. His body began to twist and shrink down into the form of a small black cat that immediately started frantically licking itself.

“Very good, sir,” I called down to him. “You’ll feel a little out of sorts at first, but that will wear off soon. Please be sure to stick to your plans, have a great time, and be back before midnight.”

I opened the gate and the cat disappeared just as the woman before him had.

I’d learned that humans sometimes decide to travel back to Earth in the form of animals. It was magnificent to see a human transfigure. I’d heard about it before, but to witness it was something else entirely. It had been explained to me that the reason some spirits elect to go back as animals is because it’s a surefire way to make sure the person you’re visiting will see you. It is a tradeoff, though. Earth animals can’t talk so if you’re trying to get a message to the person you’re visiting, it could be tricky. And if you go back to Earth in regular spirit form there’s no guarantees whomever you’re visiting will even know that you’re there. Apparently, some humans are good at being able to see the dead in spirit form, but it’s my understanding that most are not.

The wee hours after midnight went on and then turned into proper Halloween day and the lines kept up. I saw a fair number of people with transfiguration requests— more cats, many types of birds, dogs, and a guinea pig, which was strange. I’d also had some other beings come through. One was a demon who apparently just wanted to “play some harmless pranks” on some tweens with a Ouija board. I didn’t buy that for a minute. DENIED. Normally, the sorts of folks who have intentions of doing darker things on Earth have other ways of slipping through the boarder, through a black market of sorts. He seemed like he was a little new to the whole scene.

As the day wore on, I was becoming more tired, but certainly more confident in my ability to assess a situation and make a judgement call. I hadn’t even had to press the red button yet. I thought how proud Sharlene might be of me, but then I thought she probably completely forgot about me in all the craziness.

Around noon time, I noticed an elderly woman waiting on the sidelines of the next booth. I kept thinking she was going to disappear and get into line, but she just stayed there smiling and looking out patiently beyond the gate. Was she just here to watch the departures? I couldn’t imagine anyone’s afterlife would be so boring that that’s how they’d want to spend their time. Then again, it was many, many individuals of all shapes and sizes going through the lines. It’s not the least interesting thing to see, I supposed. I also wondered for a time if she might try to make a run for it and skip the line. She didn’t look that way though. She just watched beyond the gate, waiting calmly. Maybe she was lost? I wanted to yell out to her, but she didn’t seem to be in any distress and I was way too busy, so I let it go and looked over at her from time to time as the hours passed.

I waved for my next patron. A man who looked like what I can only describe as an 1800’s American farmer approached my booth.

In a thick, Southern accent he said, “Hi there, ma’am.”

He handed me his form.

I looked at the words, but the handwriting was so bad I was having trouble figuring out the purpose of his visit, but before I could open my mouth, he opened his.

“Ma’am, I was hoping I’d be able to travel down tonight. See, my great-great-great grandson’s been learnin’ ‘bout me on one of those heritage websites on the internet…”

I stamped him through.

*

Eventually, around 8 pm, the lines started to thin down. Most of those who wanted to get to Earth tonight had already departed. I didn’t know how many might have already returned seeing as probably 95% of those who I’d let through the gate had written their Proposed Time of Return to be 11:59 pm. I couldn’t blame them. Given the opportunity to go walk around Earth again, visit loved ones, maybe visit places you used to go, I wouldn’t return a second before I had to either.

Around ten o’clock the lines died down to pretty much nothing except for the occasional late individual trying to get through in a rush. Some people, living or dead, just can’t be on time for anything, I guess.

It was around this time that I craned my head out my window and saw the elderly woman. She had found a bench far back and she was sitting— knitting, it looked like. I called out to her:

“Ma’am! Ma’am!”

It took her a moment, but she looked up at me.

“Do you want go through?” I pointed at the gate as I called out. “I have some extra forms in here if you don’t have one. It’s getting pretty late.”

She waved at me and called out in a kind voice:

“Oh no, dear. I’m fine. I’m just waiting for someone.”

Waiting for someone? She was in the wrong terminal.

“Ma’am, there isn’t going to be anyone coming through here. You’re in Departures. If you’re waiting for someone to come back, you need to go down to Arrivals.”

She was looking down at her knitting, her fingers moving patiently from stitch to stitch with that same sweet smile I’d seen her wearing earlier.

“Don’t worry, miss. I’m just fine. I’m exactly where I need to be.”

I wasn’t sure what to do after that, so I waited a moment to see if she was going to say anything else and then took a seat in my booth. It was the first time I’d sat down in a while and honestly, I wasn’t sure how to help that woman. If she wanted to sit in the Departures terminal there wasn’t any rule against that, and she didn’t seem to be interested in my assistance.

*

The clock ticked by and a few more stragglers came through. My shift was almost over, and I started to doze. My sleep broke for a second and I checked my watch. 11:26. I looked up through my window and it took me a second to process what I saw.

There was a little boy. There was a little boy standing outside my gate.

Startled, I quickly got up and out of my booth. He was young, maybe four or five years old, with black hair, tan skin and enormous brown eyes. He looked up at me with his little hands grasping the outside of the bronzed bars. I squatted down in front of him to meet him at eye level.

“Hi, there. How—” I struggled to find the right words. Had he jumped the gate when I fell asleep? If he had, why hadn’t he disappeared to Earth like the rest of them?

“How did you get out there? Where did you come from?” I finally managed to say, and I looked around the gate area.

The boy then looked passed me and locked his eyes on something.

“Nana!” He yelled excitedly in a voice that seemed bigger than the child himself.

I turned around to see the elderly woman with the smile hurrying over towards us.

“Jonathan, oh baby, I’m so happy I found you!” she said as she came up and hugged him through the bars.

This was an unprecedented situation. I hadn’t yet used the red button, but now was certainly the time.

*

When Sharlene started walking up to my booth, she looked rushed, and a little pissed off.

“Look, I was happy you hadn’t called me all day, but what could possibly be an issue now? It’s almost midnight! We’re way backed up over at Arrivals and I don’t have time to be dealing with any—”

Then, she saw the elderly woman and the little boy, and her face and whole demeanor changed. She instantly softened. She went up to them and said:

“Mrs. Beckard, this must be Jonathan. It’s so nice to finally meet you, young man.”

She bent down and stuck what she could fit of her hand through the bars and little Jonathan shook it.

We let him through the gate and Sharlene directed them towards Arrivals, specifically towards the New Arrivals part of the terminal.

The elderly woman bent down and gently took the hand of the now smiling little boy. As they started to walk away, I heard her say to him: 

“Baby, I had a feeling you might be coming tonight, and might get a little lost too! You know Nana always used to get those feelings. I’m sorry Grandpa couldn’t be here to greet you. He went to visit your mother tonight. Now, let’s go get you all settled…”

Sharlene hung back with me as their voices trailed off out of earshot.

“Good you called me down here. I would have hated to miss that. That woman is his grandmother if you hadn’t pieced that together. She’s been waiting here night after night for months. Anyway, glad they were able to find each other.”

I looked up at Sharlene. She was starting to tear up a bit. She cleared her throat and then briskly headed off towards Arrivals.

*

My shift ended and I found the switch that turned the green light above my booth to red. I looked out at the now vacant line. It had been a long day, maybe the longest day of my afterlife, and I was eager to go home. I felt exhausted, but despite it having been the busiest day of the year, I couldn’t help but feel that maybe I’d kind of enjoyed my first day working in Departures. Maybe I’d even tell Sharlene that on my next shift, or maybe not.