by Alan Cook
Chapter 20
"There aren't any houses down there. Nobody
lives here!"
Arrow looked out the window of the 777 and
marveled at the emptiness of northern Canada.
"Who said the earth was overpopulated?" I stood
up and leaned over Arrow to look at the barren
countryside below, softly lit by the setting sun
and punctuated with lots of small bodies of water,
but no people. I bemoaned the fact that she had
tricked me into giving her the business-class window
seat and vowed that I would get it on the return flight.
"If you think this is destitute, wait until we fly over
Greenland," I said with the superior knowledge of
someone who has done it before. Arrow had never
been to Europe.
"Explain to me again why the shortest route from Los
Angeles to London goes so far north," Arrow said,
looking at the route map in the airline magazine.
"If you form a plane--a geometric plane, not an
airplane--using three points: the center of the
earth, Los Angeles and London, the arc created
where the plane intersects the surface of the
earth is the shortest distance between LA and
London, and it goes through Greenland. It has
something to do with both cities being in the
northern hemisphere."
"It has something to do with bullshit. And what
time will it be when we arrive in London?"
"There's an eight-hour time difference so it will be
tomorrow morning about 10 a.m."
"So it's well after midnight there now."
"Right," I said, consulting my watch.
"In that case, maybe we should get some sleep."
It wasn't a bad idea. We had both done a lot of
running around since the lunch yesterday, making
reservations, packing and doing all the things one
has to do before one leaves town. Except that
one usually has more than 24 hours in which to
do them.
We turned out our reading lights and Arrow lifted
the armrest between us, saying, "I have trouble
sleeping on airplanes. May I use your shoulder for
a pillow?"
That sounded like a reasonable request so we
arranged a blanket to cover both of us. In order
to get comfortable and balanced I had to put my
arms around her. Her curls tickled my cheek. She
placed her hands on mine and arranged them against
her sweater.
My fingers enjoyed the smooth feel of the wool
until they came to a couple of hills that a quick
mental review of female anatomy told me were
her breasts. I verified that fact by locating a
nipple before I realized that this wasn't a good
idea. I quickly readjusted my hands to a position
lower down.
Arrow stirred and said, grumpily, "What's the
matter? You are certainly more squeamish than
Richard."
I jerked my hands away from her and sat up straight.
I stared at her. "Arrow, did you sleep with my
father?"
She kept her face averted so I couldn't see it and
muttered, "What if I did?"
I couldn't speak. I just stared at her. She finally
turned her head and looked at me. She said, "If
it will make you feel any better it happened
before he met Jacie. Even before I was his
assistant. I was new in the company but I went
on a business trip with him to handle some grunt
work he needed done."
She paused, but when I still didn't speak she
continued. "It was all very glamorous for me
then--and your father was a god. Karl, you may
not believe this but your father is a very sexy
man. We only used one hotel room that trip,
although of course we charged the company for
two."
I was still tongue-tied. Arrow said, belligerently,
"Don't get on your high horse with me. It's not
the first time a woman slept with her boss and
it won't be the last. All the laws in the world
won't stop that. And so what if he is your father?
He was a very lonely man until he met Jacie."
Arrow jerked my part of the blanket over to her
seat and slammed down the armrest. We didn't
touch each other for the rest of the flight.
# # # #
"Watch out!" Arrow screamed, and I slammed on
the brakes of our red Nissan Primera rental car
to avoid hitting the truck that was sweeping
through the roundabout from the right. That
was how I learned the rule of roundabouts:
traffic on the circle has the right-of-way.
The Airport Posthouse Hotel, where we were going
to spend our first night in the UK, was right across
the street from the Glasgow Airport, but in order
to drive there we had to follow the circular road
and negotiate three roundabouts.
"I think it's the next exit," Arrow said, intently
watching the signs.
Now that I was on the roundabout I needed
something more definite than "I think" but I
attempted to activate my turn signal. I turned
on the windshield wipers instead. There was a
learning curve here. I had never driven on the
left side of the road before nor shifted with my
left hand.
After more roundabouts and only a couple of
wrong turns we finally made it to the parking lot
of the hotel, which we could have walked to in
two minutes, and I thankfully pulled into the only
empty spot I saw.
"Tomorrow maybe you can get out of second gear,"
Arrow said, smugly, and I would have hit her if I
hadn't still had a hands-off policy.
"Tomorrow you can drive," I said.
We checked in and went to our adjoining rooms.
We took showers and changed clothes; Arrow
didn't call me to zip her up. A half-hour later we
met in the hotel lobby.
"We need to get our bodies on local time as soon
as possible," I said, "so we shouldn't eat dinner
until at least five."
"What time is it now?"
I glanced at my watch. "About 3:30."
"I'm all mixed up," Arrow said. "I'm tired but I
don't know if I can sleep. I'm hungry but I
don't know if I can eat. What time is it in my
head?"
"Don't try to figure it out. Let's take a walk."
We went outside and walked to the street. Arrow
started to cross while a car was coming and I
had to grab her arm.
"You have to look to the right here," I said as
she shook me off.
A cold wind penetrated our sweaters so we
re-entered the airport terminal building. We
strolled past some shops and up a flight of
stairs. On the second floor there were a bunch
of fast-food restaurants.
"We can eat breakfast here," I said. "These
places are a lot cheaper than breakfast at
the hotel." I had temporarily forgotten that
we were on an expense account.
"Everybody talks funny," Arrow said, listening
intently to scattered bits of conversation. "And
some of the words on the signs are different. I
haven't seen the word 'biscuit' used in years."
"I think that's their word for 'cookie.'"
"So the Cookie Monster from Sesame Street
would be the Biscuit Monster here."
"I guess so. And they say 'knickers' instead of
'panties.'"
Arrow gave me a sarcastic smile and said,
"Thanks. I'll remember that when I go shopping."
When we crossed the street to return to the hotel
she took my arm. Even if it was for safety
reasons I understood it as a peace offering
and decided to return to my usual congenial self.
We finished dinner by six. By that time Arrow was
completely beat and I wasn't far away. We retired
to our hotel rooms. I watched television for a while
and then tried to go to sleep. Thinking about Arrow
and my father together made sleep difficult. Was
that because I wanted her for myself?
Aces and Knaves copyright ©2002 Alan L. Cook
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