“Yes, mom I said I’m fine.” I moved the phone to my other ear, and tried speaking over the police car’s siren. “Gavin’s taking me to the airport, I’ll send you postcards so you know I’m safe.”
Gavin leaned towards me. “Hi aunty.”
“You listen to your cousin Gavin.”
“I will mom, he said not to tell anyone where we’re going but I have to go. I love you mom, give my love to dad and the others.”
“Okay, we love you sweetie bye.”
“Bye.” I hung up to enjoy the ride, but the siren stopped as we passed the airport’s welcome sign.
Gavin drummed the steering wheel. “I think that’s a personal best.”
I sighed.
He parked us in the loading and unloading zone. “Keep in touch with me, I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come back.”
A TSA officer hesitated to approach our police car.
Gavin waved at him. “Stick to English speaking countries. Tell them you’re a college student taking a semester off if they ask.”
The confused TSA officer waved back.
Gavin studied his smartphone. “A flight to Switzerland’s boarding.” He grabbed a notepad and pen. “That solves your lottery check problem.”
I waved at the TSA officer. “I don’t speak Swiss.”
“They speak English in Geneva.” Gavin made notes. “And Swiss isn’t a language. How much cash you got?”
“Payday’s next week, and I…”
Gavin took a wad of money from his shirt pocket, and tossed it to me. “That’s a couple thousand dollars, use it until you open a Swiss bank account. Sorry it’s hundreds and fifties.” He returned to his notes.
“Swiss bank account?”
He tore the page from his notebook, and handed it to me. “Here’s the addresses of Geneva’s top banks. Deposit your check with one of them. Call if you need anything, but never leave messages.”
I pocketed the note and money. “You’ve thought of everything haven’t you?”
He smiled. “You know I got a plan for everything. This is the one where I win the lottery. Remember I wouldn’t fuck up, so don’t let me down.”
Knocking against my window startled me. A uniformed officer’s ID read: FEDERAL MARSHAL.
The glass between us lowered.
“This is him.” Gavin said. “His flight to Geneva’s boarding, can you ensure he makes it? He also needs a ticket.”
The Marshal nodded, stepped away, and talked on his walkie.
Gavin smirked. “This isn’t my jurisdiction, so I called-in a favor. Funny thing is, that Marshal’s name, is Marshall.”
I smiled. “Guess I won’t make it to dinner on Sunday.”
Gavin nodded. “Darlene will understand.”
We shook hands, and hugged.
Marshall opened my door. “This way sir.”
I hesitated and faced Gavin.
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle the family, your friends, and Clyde.” Gavin wiped a tear. “Go on, the world is waiting for you.”
Federal Marshals led me into a hall bypassing airport security. A glass wall separated us from the stanchions herding travelers to the checkpoint.
A line was held by an emaciated sun damaged leathered skin brunette who struggled with her designer luggage, while clutching a child’s arm leaning away from her. The woman scrunched her mummy face, and bit her lip as her fingernails dug into the child’s limb. The child’s face contorted, became the same red as his sweater, and tears rolled from his cheeks as screamed. The travelers behind the pair rolled their eyes.
We exited the checkpoint, and a cart, sped us to a vacated gate. A flight attendant exited the boarding bridge as we stopped.
I approached the flight attendant while patting my pockets. “Um, I don’t have a ticket.”
The flight attendant forced a smile. “That’s taken care of sir, passport?”
My hands repeated the patting process.
Gavin packed it in my bag.
My hands dove into my black backpack, grabbed the textured cover, and presented it to the attendant.
The flight attendant scanned and returned it. “Welcome aboard sir, please hurry we’ve been waiting.”
The red trench coated woman left the bookstore. A group of guys made sexual remarks about her body. She ignored them and joined a young woman smoking a cigarette wearing designer sunglasses and a matching purse.
The fashionista tossed her cigarette. “Oy, sod off yah wankers.” She grinned as the guys walked away. “Huh, they liked you more than me.”
The trench coated woman fidgeted with her empty bag. “That wasn’t necessary.”
The fashionista adjusted her sunglasses. “They did sound fun, and were kind of hot.”
“I don’t know about starting a relationship with some bloke on the street.”
“It’d just be a shag.” The fashionista took her friend’s arm. “Dinner?”
