Only Eleven Minutes Away

 Only Eleven Minutes Away

The twelve hour flight from Dublin to Seattle was, as expected, long, crowded and uncomfortable but there were no dramas.  The bizarre fact of travelling so many thousands of feet up in the air while eating or watching a film or, stranger still, watching the progress of the plane you are sitting in crossing the world on a small map in front of you always gave her goosebumps so she tried not to think about it.  Instead, Angie looked forward to landing in an hour's time and stretching her stiff body before the journey to the hotel, the Marina Inn, Des Moines, which was a short drive from Seatac and where she’d stayed before and, while it was nothing grand, was perfectly placed for bath, bed and sleep.

A subdued air hung over the baggage claim hall as pale, weary passengers, stiff from their flight, stood around a still empty carousel.  As the conveyor belt  came to life, so did their faces, as if woken from a long sleep.  Slowly, slowly the cases appeared, dropping onto the belt with a thud.  Smiling, relieved men and women picked up their luggage while others anxiously waited. Angie clutched her phone.  She was being lent a car by friends who were due to collect her, drive her to the Marina and leave her there with the car.

Outside, the barrage of noise and light was shocking.  Passengers newly released from terminals and planes crowded the side-walk with their luggage, shouting and waving, eager to find a familiar face in the lanes of cars crawling by as a lone traffic cop blew his whistle and shouted in an attempt to keep the traffic flowing.  Bright headlights swept across the peoples’ faces and planes roared as they left and landed.  Into this chaos Angie stumbled.  Her phone squeaked.

“Hi Angie, welcome!  Did you get your luggage yet?”

“Elena, hello, good to hear you.  Yes, I’m outside Gate 6, International Arrivals.”

“We’re gonna be a little late, some kind of sporting event, so traffic’s pretty bad.”

Angie groaned silently.

“Okay Elena, I’ll just wait here till you arrive.”

Although relieved not to have to trek over to the car rental facility, drive in the dark, on the wrong side of the road, alone, she was never comfortable relying on the generosity of friends.  Too often it came at a price.

By the time Elena arrived, closely followed by her husband Elmer, the traffic had eased.  Elena grabbed Angie and piled her into the front seat while Elmer took charge of the luggage and insisted he lead the way.

“Never been to this place before but Google maps tells me it’s only eleven minutes away so see you there,” and off he drove.

“So, how are you?  You look fantastic!” Elena asked.  “How was the flight, on time I guess?”

Angie relaxed into the comfy seat and answered Elena’s string of questions as best she could.

“Oh my God, you must be starving,” she suddenly exclaimed.  “There's potato chips, bananas, cookies, energy bars, some bread and hummus I think, but I didn’t get anything with meat - I remembered!” she laughed.

“Thanks Elena, but not at the moment.”

“But you must be starving after such a long journey.  How long is it, ten hours?  Anyway, the bag’s on the back seat, help yourself.  Oh, and I got you some of that chocolate you like.”

“Elena, I have been sitting on an aeroplane for twelve hours, I really don’t want anything to eat.”  She glanced at her friend.  “But thank you.”

Angie was surprised by the lack of street lights and traffic having assumed that the eleven minute drive would take them along freeways and highways, not these quiet, dark, slightly threatening suburban streets.  The shock of driving on the right made her jump each time a car approached and she had to cover her eyes when going the wrong way around a roundabout.  She saw no signs for Des Moines or anywhere else.  As her eyes began to shut, in her exhausted state she began to imagine kidnappings, FBI plots, shoot-outs with gangsters.  A sudden pressure on the brakes woke her fast enough.

“What the hell?” cried Elena.  “Elmer, where are you going?”

She flashed Elmer to stop and, pulling up alongside, wound down the window.

“Where are we Elmer?” she asked sarcastically.

“Sorry, honey, I’m not sure.  Google audio doesn’t seem to be working and I think I may have taken a wrong turn.  Have I got us lost?”

Angie groaned again, this time loudly.  Elena gave her a look.

“Well, it would appear so, honey.  Okay, I’m leading now.  Angie, you had some food yet?”

From his new position behind his wife’s car, Elmer gradually became aware of a large black vehicle driving very close behind him.  From his wing mirror he could make out a menacing SUV with blacked-out windows.  He drove cautiously, allowing Elena’s car to get some distance ahead.  There was little traffic and the few street lights seemed less bright in the glare of the SUV’s powerful headlights reflected in the mirrors and windows.  Elmer was concerned, uncomfortable, as he drove slower, anticipating trouble as the lead car got further and further away. 

Suddenly the headlights were no longer behind him but in front, glaring directly through the windscreen.  Before he could reach for the lock, his door swung open and he was grabbed from his seat by a pair of strong arms and flung, face down, across the hood.  The strong arms kept him there as two others, less strong, more delicate, searched his pockets and, finding nothing, began searching the car.  

Elmer wanted to yell, shout at his assailants that he had nothing, no money, no drugs, no booze, only the bag of snacks Elena had packed, as she did every time he drove anywhere.  But not a word was spoken by any of the three, until a grunt came from the thin arms.  They had found the snacks and were examining the contents - energy bars, bananas, cookies, potato chips, peanuts - and let out a deep, growling laugh.  The bag was re-packed and thrown to strong arms who, still holding Elmer to the hood, let go of him to catch the bag.  They ran to their SUV and with screeching tyres reversed and roared away, their laughter echoing in Elmer’s ears.  

When he was sure they weren't coming back, he straightened himself up and looked around.  What the hell was all that about?  Had he just been mugged for his wife’s driving snacks?  Or had his wife’s driving snacks just saved him from a mugging?  Carefully, he got back into the car and slowly drove forward, wondering where Elena and Angie had gotten to.  To his great relief, the next junction brought him to Des Moines main street and there, opposite, was the Marina Inn and Elena’s car.

He drew up alongside his wife and Angie.

“Where the hell have you been?” cried Elena.

“Don’t ask,” replied Elmer.  “You wouldn't believe it,” he added under his breath.

A great deal of fuss was made taking Angie's luggage from the trunk and thrusting even more food into her hands.

“You must eat,” was all Elena said.

When keys were handed over and goodbyes were being said, Angie raised a smile as she asked, 

“How long did that actually take, Elmer?  Felt longer than eleven minutes?”

“Yeah, sorry Angie, more like forty five, fifty?  But hey, who’s counting? We got you here, didn’t we? And you’re on vacation, right?”

Angie negotiated check-in and carted her luggage, and food, to a room, wondering if the last hour had actually happened.  A bright message on the TV screen read:

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“Welcome to Des Moines.  Enjoy your stay”.

Angie promptly lay down and fell asleep.

Elmer allowed his wife to drive them home.  When asked, he thanked Elena for the tasty driving snacks.