It's been a while since I joined Carrie's blog hop but the photo prompt this week reminded me of many airport memories, both happy and sad. Without a doubt, I knew I had a story for this one.
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“Please fasten your seatbelts. We are experiencing some turbulence due to a storm. We apologize for the inconvenience.”
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The seatbelt light came on and Martha fumbled with hers while looking outside her window. A storm was looming far below. Isn’t that just great, Martha thought, a storm on her homecoming. Home, where was that? It had been five years since she left. She wondered if they’d be there or if they remembered her at all. What would she do if they did come? What would she do if they didn’t? Maybe it would have been better if she had stayed at The Place. She had friends there, people like her; people who knew and understood how she felt.
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“Please fasten your seatbelts. We are experiencing some turbulence due to a storm. We apologize for the inconvenience.”
The seatbelt light came on and Martha fumbled with hers while looking outside her window. A storm was looming far below. Isn’t that just great, Martha thought, a storm on her homecoming. Home, where was that? It had been five years since she left. She wondered if they’d be there or if they remembered her at all. What would she do if they did come? What would she do if they didn’t? Maybe it would have been better if she had stayed at The Place. She had friends there, people like her; people who knew and understood how she felt.
“Please pull your seat upright, ma’am. We’re landing soon,” the flight attendant’s voice brought her back from her musings.
It was the same terminal she had left five years ago. She was just a kid then and was distraught at the idea of leaving. Now, she was just as distraught for the same reasons. How funny, she sighed. The years away from home had not changed anything.
“It’s only for a few years Martha, until you get back on your feet. We’ll be here when you come back,” her mother had said.
But she didn’t believe her. She had heard her and that soldier boyfriend of hers, talking one night.
“You can’t take care of her, Beth. She’s sick and she needs medicine and doctors to make her well. We’re barely making it ourselves.”
“But she’s my child. I can’t just send her off to some stranger who know nothing about her,” her mother pleaded.
“Those strangers know about her illness. They can make her well. Don’t you want Martha to be well?”
And that sealed her future. She had been too sick for her own mother to care for and they had been too selfish to make her well themselves.
Martha followed the people as they made their way out of immigration. Waiting for her luggage, she remembered Dominic. He had been kind to her as everyone else at The Place. They understood her fears and helped her deal with it.
“Nobody will understand me like you do,” she had begged, “Please Dominic, let me stay. I can work here. The kids like me. I can help them... like you helped me.”
“They’re waiting for you, Martha. All these years, you kept your head under the sand like an ostrich. Why can’t you believe they just want you well?”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Finally, her bags came. She headed towards the exit and put on a brave face. She promised Dominic she’d make it on her own, whether they came for her or not. She was not about to let the tears break her resolve.
It was a warm day outside. A bird flew overhead, circled above her then soared up in the distance. Martha smiled. It was time to take her head out of the sand.
Linked up with Writer Wednesday Blog Hop and Tell Me a Story
Linked up with Writer Wednesday Blog Hop and Tell Me a Story
