Leaving New York

Chapter 11

Henry and I packed our stuff the following morning. He was nervous as a cat. So was I, but I didn't show it.

"What if I miss my plane, Jack?"

I said, "I'm going to make sure you make it in Le Havre, buddy. When you get to Frankfurt, people can help you find your plane. You'll be in the States before you know it." I looked over at the half-filled duffle bag Carlos gave him. "Did you get everything, Henry?"

"Yes—I don't have anything, remember?"

"You got your clothes, toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, your medicine . . . let me check it all."

"I'm not a baby."

"I don't think you are—I just want my bud to be ready. Remember, take two Valium a day, one when you get up, another at three—got it? A guy from the company is bringing your emergency passport to the ship." There was a knock at the door.

"It's open."

Carlos said, "Hey, guys—packing up, I see. Henry, I have a money pouch for your cash and passport, which the currier just dropped off. Here are the 1700 Euros the passengers and crew collected for you.

He gulped, "Gosh."

Carlos knelt on the floor next to Henry, "Let's get everything in the pouch and hang it under your shirt. Never take it off and never tell anyone you have money on you, got that?"

"Yes, Carlos."

The guy adjusted the pouch for Henry like my dad used to adjust my ties when I was a kid—it made me feel loved. "There—just wear it under your outer shirt over your T-shirt. When we dock, customs will come aboard, check you out, then you and Jack disembark. Then you get a taxi together to the airport—the plane leaves at seven-fifteen, Budget Air, then you land in Frankfurt and catch Air France Flight 345 to Charlotte. Here's a copy of the itinerary. There's another in the pouch. Jack, you are going with Henry to the airport?"

"Yes, sir—we have been over and over it."

Carlos stood up, "If you run into trouble, just go to any airline counter and ask "Parlez vous Anglaise?". That's "Do you speak English?" and someone can help you. That's on your itinerary too. In Charlotte, your brother will be outside security to get you."

Henry looked overwhelmed. I said, "You can do it, buddy."

Carlos turned, "I got a lot to do before we land, so you guys take care." He hugged me and gave Henry an extra tight, long hug. "You be good, you hear?"

Henry got misty, "I will—thank you so much, Carlos."

We landed about two hours later, said goodbye to the crew, and headed to Le Havre Octeville Airport. In the cab, Henry held my hand. After a bumpy forty-five-minute ride, we pulled up to the tiny terminal. The security line was short, so I made him check his ticket, money, and passport again.

"You have done a lot, Jack."

"You're going to be fine." He bear-hugged me, crying.

I was about to come apart too, but I just pointed, "You're next through the scanner."

"Bye, Jack."

"You are a great, brave man—just keep it going."

"I love you."

"Same here."

The sky was a brilliant blue and cloudless. I sat on the observation deck, watching passengers climb the short staircase to the tiny plane. A giant red-headed man entered, then was gone. I went and sobbed in the airport bathroom.