Cactus Wren

Chapter Twenty - Welcome to Denver

The plane taxis into the terminal dock and the flight attendant's voice calls from the speakers above.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please remain in your seats until the airplane comes to a full and complete stop and our captain has turned off the seat belt sign." The weather outside my window reflects my mood with dark gray clouds linger overhead and threaten a downpour.

"...The local time is 3:26 pm and it is 68 degrees. Welcome to the Mile High City." the flight attendant finishes their end of flight script.

I wait until the passengers around me gather their carry-on bags and depart the plane before standing. I only brought a small duffel bag of essentials with me. I figured I'd need a whole new wardrobe when I got here anyway, no need to pack a lot. Though, I may have dressed a little too 'desert' for this current weather. Just having left temperatures firmly in the triple digits, I was wearing roman sandals with my favorite worn jean cut-off shorts and a black camisole covered by a thin, over-sized, t-shirt with a faded picture of a steer skull that fell artfully off one shoulder no matter how many times I pulled it back up. The bruising along my cheek and temple was covered with make up and I worn my hair down in loose waves to help cover any obvious swelling. The cut on my lip was a little harder to cover, but luckily the swelling had gone down so I wasn't talking with a fat lip. I avoided eye contact with everyone to keep anyone's attention off my face.

I follow the crowds to the subway and wait for the next train to arrive to head back to the main terminal. When it arrives and the doors open I walk on and quickly take a seat out of the way of the other passengers before the doors close again and the train takes off. We arrive at terminal B and another group of passengers load onto the train including a young mother and her little girl, about 3 or 4 years old. When no seats are available, I stand to offer her mine and she gives me a grateful smile before sitting and pulling her squirmy daughter into her lap just as the train takes off again.

The little girl is too excited to stay in her mother's lap and keeps trying to pull out of her hold. The mother continues to adjust her grip, the frustration showing on her face.

"Rebecca, hold still." She scolds her daughter. I still at the mention of her name. The little girl whines and wriggles again, fighting against her mother's hold. I slowly squat down low in front of mother and daughter, careful to hold a nearby pole so I don't fall over with the motion of the fast moving train. I smile at the mom and then the little girl.

"Hi," I say gently, getting the little girl's attention. "You're name is Rebecca? That's my name too." She smiles wide and stops squirming, now focusing on me.

"Really?" She asks with amazement and I nod. I notice her long, curly, blonde hair is pulled into pig-tails and she keeps fidgeting with the skirt of her blue dress. I remember seeing Maddie in a similar dress when she went to play at the park a few months back. Seeing this little girl here with the same outfit, complete with blonde hair, makes my heart ache. I swallow back the lump in my throat.

"I like your dress. Blue is one of my favorite colors." I tell her.

"Purple is my favorite color." She tells me. "And yellow, I like pink sometimes too." I smile at her indecisiveness.

"Is this your first time on a train?" I ask her and she nods.

"I want to see out the window." She tells me, pointing to the side of the train. The walls of the train tunnel are decorated with different objects that keep whizzing past the windows, grabbing her attention.

"I understand. It does look interesting," I agree with her, "But you should stay right where you are, with your mom. I think you'll get a better view from up on her lap." I tell her and point back to the window behind her head. "There's a window right there you can look through. Can you see?" She looks back and her smile grows.