Peculiar Preboarding

“Where are you headed to Miss?”

I hand the ticketing agent my confirmation information and driver’s license.

“Oregon.”

She looks up and smiles at me. Her eyes are kind and I smile back.

“And how many bags will you be checking Miss Canfield?”

I look down at the brown leather suitcase in front of me. It’s faded and worn around the edges, but still one of my favorite things that my father left me. It looks well traveled. It was. Dad was always going to seminars and conferences for his research. I missed him terribly.

As I stare at the case in front of me, I suddenly realize that this will be my life for the next few weeks at least. I hope I packed everything I needed.

“Just one, thank you.”

I lift it onto the scale. Just under fifty pounds. No extra charge.

She tags the bag and hoists it onto the belt so it can reach my destination in time. She smiles handing me a boarding pass and my tickets.

“You’ll be at gate B11. The security checkpoint is just to your right. Have a nice flight Miss Canfield.”

“Thank you.”

I gather up my carryon and head to the gate.

As I watch all the passengers going through the check point, I can’t help but assess their stress levels through body language. It has always been a compulsion of mine.

Getting through to the gate is relatively painless. I stop off at the deli and grab a sandwich and a drink. The flight will be long and the in-flight meals are always disgusting. I make my way to the magazine racks, grab a few and some snacks and head toward B11 to nestle in for the hour and 45 minute wait.

I am munching on my sandwich I notice a little old woman sitting across from me. I smile, knowing it’s the polite thing to do. She looks about 70 years of age, her shock white hair coifed into a perfect football helmet. She smiles softly. I can tell she wants to strike up a conversation but is nervous to do so. She drops her glasses and in an instant I am out of my chair and coming to her aid.

“Thank you dear.”

“Not a problem.”

I grab my things and sit down next to her. I love getting to know people and the elderly are so interesting.

“Traveling to visit loved ones deary?”

“No, I am going for a job.”

It is then I remember what I am actually doing. I become a little giddy inside. I get to work for THE Dr. Martin. He had called me personally to ask me to join the team. Apparently, one of their members, the one who took the job from me, couldn’t handle the stresses of the research involved. I am relieved to be so level headed. I hoped I was up for it.

Her facial expressions become reminiscent. I can tell she is going to regale me with a story of her past.

“My Henry used to travel a lot for his work too. That was until his accident.”

She is pained. I take her hand in mine to comfort her.

“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“You are sweet child, listening to an old lady’s stories.”

“Please go on.”

She pats my hand gently.

“He had been working in the old mill in Portland. He used to work long nights back then. We had three young ones then, and we needed the money. I usually called him in the evenings so that the children could say their goodnights and I could check on him. Well one night he was closing up alone and he swore he heard voices coming from inside the factory so he let me go. He thought it may be burglars, so being the true blue young man that he was, he went to investigate. He was just going to run them out, you know.”

Her eyes were serious as she remembered this vision.

“I hadn’t heard from him a few hours later, so I called up the foreman and asked him to go and check on Henry.”

Her skin was pale now and clammy. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes. I squeeze her hand gently.

“When they found him, his body had been tangled into one of the cutters. I remember his eyes being so large with surprise. And his hair…it was shock white.”

“I am so sorry.”

She straightened up, smoothing out the creases of her dress.

“It was a long time ago. I had to raise my children alone and I had to be strong for them.”

“You never remarried?”

“I couldn’t. Henry was the love of my life. I could never betray him like that.”

“Did they ever find out who killed him?”

“The verdict was vandals…but I feel it in my bones that it was something else.”

“What do you mean something else?”

She stared into my eyes, her voice becoming tinged with darkness.

“There are things out there young lady, that neither you nor I can explain.”

The intercom jolted me upright.

“Now boarding to Portland Oregon.”

Everyone bustled to the gate. I looked around for the old woman but she was nowhere to be found. I took my seat, shaken by the story I had just heard. I would definitely chronicle it in my journal. Maybe Dr. Martin would have some insight.

I buckled myself in, pulling one of the magazines out in preparation for the long flight ahead. I hoped to get along with my other teammates. It would be interesting to gain different perspectives on the scenarios we would encounter.

I hoped that this would be my big chance.