The Boiling of the Bones

18. Departure

Sophia had to catch me before I left. No, that was crazy. But yes, she needed to be certain. She had to get to the airport. She made a snap decision and gave in to her impulsive urge. She raced out of the apartment, down the street to the Bleecker Street Subway Station.

She rode to midtown and transferred to the Blue Line E Train out to Jamaica Center, Queens. Then, she felt sick when she realized she'd gone one stop too far. Sophia quickly hopped onto the first train to backtrack to Sutphin Blvd., but in her state of panic, she accidentally caught the wrong train.

She instantly realized what she'd carelessly done and kicked herself. She had to go back to Jamaica Center and then to Sutphin where she caught the JFK Air train. Sophia nervously glanced at her watch. Nine forty-five. She had fifty minutes before my departure. She wasn't sure which terminal I was at, or which airline I was taking. She googled listings of all the JFK departure times. There was only one flight on Singapore Airlines departing at ten thirty-five for my destination. It was on time, leaving from Terminal four, Gate B31.

When the Air train pulled up to Terminal four, she hopped out and sprinted toward Gate B31, but when Sophia got to the TSA security checkpoint, she realized they wouldn't let her through unless she had an airline ticket. She frantically pulled out her phone to text me to come back from the gate to the terminal to see her. Her phone battery was dead. She desperately dug into her purse looking for the charger cord and then remembered she had left it on her bedside table a few days earlier.

She glanced around the terminal looking for a payphone. There were none to be found. Sophia ran over to a rental car kiosk and asked the girl at the counter if she could borrow a phone. The girl agreed to let her use the desk phone and pushed it across the counter. Sophia quickly punched in my phone number, and it felt like an eternity before the phone began to ring.

Come on, pick up the phone.

Three rings, then four, then it went to voicemail.

"Hi Oliver, it's Soph. There's something I desperately need to tell you. I called Janosh an hour ago and broke up with him. He was an amazing guy. But he wasn't you. I guess what I'm saying is I love you. I should have told you last night. I wanted to, but I was scared. I didn't know how to say it. Or how you'd take it. Anyway, I'm here at the airport. Call me if you get this message before your plane takes off. Otherwise, goodbye Oliver. I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for."

She dialed Rob.

"Hello?"

"Hey Rob, it's Soph. Listen, could you call Oliver real quick and have him call me?"

"Hey Soph. Oliver's already gone. I just dropped him off at the airport. His iPhone won't work overseas without a new SIM card, and he said many of the places where he's going don't have reception anyway. He gave it to me an hour ago to store with the rest of his stuff until he gets back."

Her heart sank upon the realization that I'd never get her message.

"Is there any other way to reach him?"

"No, I'm sorry. He's avoiding all social media. He made a conscious decision to deliberately free himself from distractions so he could find himself or whatever. He's supposed to call me to check in from time to time. I'm not sure when that will be. As soon as I hear from him, I could have him call you. It might not be for a few days or so. You know how Oliver is."

"Yeah, he likes his space. You know what? Never mind. It's not important. I was just going to ask if I could borrow a book he mentioned the other day, but I can just buy a copy for myself."