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2 - Crash (edited)

also edited :)

Credits to a_rainy_day for the cover on the side 

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2 - Crash

Luke Waters

  

 My flight to New Delhi was long.

 I spent most of it asleep, not really tired, but I think the relief sort of numbed me. With every passing minute I was taken farther and farther away from Springfield. Halfway through the flight I was in such a good mood that I struck up a rapport with a friendly stewardess who seemed to be in charge of our aisle, her silver, slightly smudged nametag read Lisa and she had short bobbed hair and a huge smile and teeth that had clearly been whitened because they were whiter than the whites of her eyes. She let me have an extra cup of coffee, and slipped me a packet of dairy creamer to eat because I have a weakness for those.

 When Lisa wasn’t around I tried to distract myself from the uncomfortable cramped economy class – my knees were touching the seat in front of me because of my height. I memorized the toll-free number on the back of the seat, and noted that the man sitting next to me seemed to be a vegan judging from the food he ate.

 I spent the rest of the time sleeping.

 Landing was announced around twelve noon India time. I knew my sleep schedule was already messed up and decided to deal with that later. I couldn’t look out of the window because I was in the aisle seat. The pilot told us that the outside temperature was forty degrees Celsius. I did the math and it came to over a hundred degrees.

 Holy shit.

 When I landed in the New Delhi airport, I had no clue what to expect. The building was all glass and steel, reflecting the harsh sunlight unkindly. My co-passengers were mostly Americans. There was one Indian family of four. The kids, two boys who looked like twins, were hooked onto their PSPs, plastic-framed glasses slipping down their identical noses. Their dad was immersed in a red book with ‘NEW DELHI’ written across it in bold yellow letters. Their mom was wearing a dress that touched her knees, her plump waist amply visible, her arms jiggling as she did something on her phone. I could smell her perfume from a few feet away.

 As I waited at the baggage claim, I hardly saw any more Indians, considering I was in the international arrival terminal. But my anticipation increased considerably when I pulled my black Samsonite off the belt. I knew what Sam looked like, so at least that wouldn’t be something to worry about.

 I took deep breaths and fiddled with the zipper of my jacket as I wheeled my suitcase towards the large glass doors of the terminal exit, wondering if I should take it off. I had dressed carefully, in a shirt and jeans and my trustworthy Chucks. I ended up not taking off the jacket.

 Checking my boarding pass, I saw that my flight had landed on time, so Sam, who was supposed to pick me up, couldn’t have been waiting too long. My phone, which I’d just switched on, buzzed with a text then. I knew that only Sam and Leo had my Indian number. And Leo was probably asleep then, so I knew it was Sam before I pulled it out of my pocket.

Hey, he’d sent, I’m not picking you up from the airport today…I’ll tell you why later. But my sister’s picking you up. She knows what you look like. She’ll find you. Just wait outside the terminal for her, and if she doesn’t show in a few minutes give me a call. – Sam

Ah, the seemingly annoying sister. She clearly was old enough to drive if she was picking me up alone, so I guessed she must’ve been mid-twenties.