Kitty, Jack, and Spider were watching the arrivals monitors.
"I told you the flight would be delayed." said Kitty.
Spider scurried about and finally said, "I am getting thirsty. We need coffee. That's right. Coffee will be just what we need now. You want cream and sugar, Kitty? Cream and sugar, right? That's what I thought. Good, Kitty. And Jack.... double espresso right? No? No. Ok... I'll surprise you. You'll love it."
And with that he was off. The obvious choice was to go to the Starbucks kiosk, but the line seemed to stream around the beige and green wonderland; all the way back to the Parking Garage entrance. Anyhow, Spider's choices were never the obvious ones.
"Oh serendipitous me!" He thought as he drifted south westerly towards to the "Dick Clark's American Band Stand Grill" Besides the ersatz Americana decor, they had a wicked selection of refreshments that were far more interesting.
"Table for one?" Asked the hostess.
"Well... Connie," replied Spider, reading her name tag. "I was hoping for some drinks to go. I'll have a double espresso add a shot of Kaluha, a 'Mrs. Clark's Old Fashion Root Beer Float' with a double shot of Kalua a fogato style, and an American Dream 'Apple Pie' ... substitute Kalua for the Bailey's"
The hostess looked up from her pad, "I'm sorry, sir. For starters, I'm somehow doubt that you are going to show me a real ID if I asked for one, but in any case I can't let you get alcoholic drinks to go."
"Sure you can," said Spider, unfazed. "But just for a minute let's say you couldn't; what would you say to a song?"
"What?"
"Forget about the drinks, I've always had great admiration for American Bandstand. Remember the theme song:
On the road for forty days,
Last night in little rock put me in a haze.
Sweet, sweet Connie -- doin her act..."
Last night in little rock put me in a haze.
Sweet, sweet Connie -- doin her act..."
"Um, Sir, that's not American Bandstand, that's Grand Funk Railroad, and if you are not going to order..."
"Wait, wait, wait... we got started off on the wrong foot. I can see that now, and I'm sorry. You know, its funny, these places. Just because I'm the customer and you're the hosting professional, I think its all about me me me. But obviously you are a woman of class and virtue. What am I doing? Just blathering on, that's what. I should listen. Do any of your customers ever offer you anything? Offer to listen? Really... listen? Tell me you dreams, Connie; your hopes; your aspirations. Did anyone ever tell you that you have beautiful eyes? It's true, you know."
"You can't be serious, kid."
"I'm as serious as heart attack, dollface."
Something about Spider's absurdly earnest tone gave the hostess pause. Two divorces and a stint as a "lobbyist's aide" had prepared Connie for many things in life, but a gangly teen, young enough to be her son, calling her "dollface" was new and amusing.
"Why don't you sit down and stay a while, kid." Said Connie, absent mindedly pouring herself a shot of Kaluha, "I can tell you about my dashed hopes and broken dreams, if you want. I can tell you things that will break your heart and make you cry..."
* * * * * * * * *
"Great. Just great!" Kitty growled. "You could have said something."
Jack's eyes were fixed on the monitor. His countenance frozen in a half-grimace, half squint. Jack's face was lit by the eerie glow of the HD screens, which in turn seemed a touch more sinister, even sepulchral, by reflecting Jack's visage. A diameter of about 2 yards formed around Jack as the other airport travelers (whether consciously or not) simply chose not to stand near him. There were other flights which were late, but one by one all the flight status lines on the monitor changed first to "On Time", followed by a curt "Arrived", and then cleared off; as if they too wanted to avoid Jack's scrutiny.
Kitty tried to burn a hole into the back of Jack's round orange head with her laser stare. She scratched an imaginary piece of lint off her black Adidas "Super Girl" track jacket, peevishly inspected her perfectly manicured nails, then she returned to the important task of burning a hole in the back of her funny round-headed brother. It was bad enough that she had to rely on big stupid Jack to drive her around, but why did he have to be such a freak? If only Flappy were here, then they could just go, and people wouldn't keep, doing... doing that thing they do when Jack was around.
Places she would rather be:
number 1: her bed
number 2: a dark ritual with a coven of witches
number 3:Bayonne, New Jersey
number 4: the stanky pits of hell. Oh wait, that's number 3. Okay, how about... anywhere.
Finally she could stand it no longer. "Well?" She exploded.
Jack turned around and melted her glower with his dark unearthly orbs. With a spindly finger, he pointed at the monitor. The excitedly blinking "DELAYED" changed to a sedate but more menacing "See airline representative for more information"
Spider returned carrying a bevy of drinks. He blurted out, "that's a whole lot of text for such a small space."
Kitty's worst fears suddenly gripped her. She forgot all about how mad she was at Jack for being such a weirdo. She forgot how annoying Spider was (for almost three whole seconds). She could only think about Flappy. She never should have let him go for the whole summer; or at all, for that matter. Kittty took the drink out of Spider's hand and chugged it. The coffee burned the roof of her mouth, but it didn't matter. The pain was bracing, but soon her mouth felt numb and wave of warmth rushed through her body. She was ready to be back in control of herself again; poised. Spider looked at her, clearly impressed.
"Ok," she said. "Let's go find that airline rep."
