Boneca [Doll]

Chapter 5: Panic

In the midst of this bustling human zoo, Luuk couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that some strangers might approach him babbling in a foreign language, snatch him, and poof! Suddenly, he's starring in "Taken: Airport Edition" and his life's hit its closing credits.

He quickly brushed aside this James Bond-worthy scenario and focused on Jona, who was locked in a heated discussion via phone near the security gate. But hold up, an inner Sherlock deduced a potentially criminal motive when Jona's grin was aimed at him: "Wait a sec, is this guy a creep? Why's he still lurking?"

Suppressing his "kidnap paranoia," Luuk questioned, "Why are you still here?"

"Just hanging around, just in case. The delegates have jetted ahead," Jona explained, his gaze fixated on Luuk's hand. "You ditched your shirt."

"Oh, that?" Witnessing Jona's narrowing eyes, Luuk continued, "I've got enough clothing to start my own fashion empire."

Jona seemed ready to launch into a soliloquy but thought better of it.

"So, what's the plan? Off to conquer some unknown land too?" Luuk queried as he hopped in the languid queue after Jona. "I thought you were sending off your boyfriend."

"I'm actually Aarón's RA," Jona elaborated, his hands and eyes playing hide and seek within his leather sling bag. With each passing word, his pace slowed down. "Been his assistant for rural settlement research for like, a solid year."

Luuk eyed his leg. Back when the church incident happened, Luuk had noticed his limp vanished into thin air. He looked like a normal, healed human being, not like he'd just waltzed out of a zombie flick. "You do realize this research is set in the Amazon, right?"

Jona's eyebrows played a game of chicken with each other, hands still spelunking in his bag. "Uh... Yes. I know that?"

"And, just so we're clear, the Amazon isn't Muir Woods."

Jona seemed on the brink of delivering a "You're kidding, right?" look but decided to go for the path of polite. "I signed up with full sobriety levels, so yes, I'm fully woke on that. Why the inquisition?"

Luuk, determined to keep the college buddy vibe alive, shot back, "Just making casual conversation. No inquisition scheduled for today."

As they sauntered into the airside arena, Luuk displayed his ID to security and waited for the sensei.

He's young. They heal quick, right? Maybe he's in tip-top shape for trekking the jungle, Luuk pondered.

Jona's pace was more reminiscent of a tortoise's crawl as he continued to spelunk through his bag (even though Luuk had been convinced he was on a quest for his ID earlier – obviously not, since he'd already showed it over to the security guard).

In the nick of time, Luuk's reflexes prevented a Jona-induced catastrophe as he nearly bulldozed a middle-aged Italian woman sitting on the floor beside GATE 8's glass wall, backpack by her side.

Jona bowed at her, followed by a "Je m'excuse" for good measure. The woman sprang back to life, waving her chunky hand in a greeting.

"For the love of linguistics! She's Italian! Keep your eyes ahead when walking," Luuk mumbled under his breath.

"Weren't my apologies in Italian?" Jona gave a fleeting glance over his shoulder while conjuring up yet another small bow. "Oops, my mistake. That was French." Back to digging through his bag, he remained blissfully unaware of his recent encounter with the woman's toes.

The airside scene resembled a ghost town. Luuk cast a glance at his watch. Six minutes past six; time was playing hooky for this departure. "Come on, sensei, shift into turbo. The gate shuts in less than ten minutes." He cast his gaze ahead, only to slam on the brakes. One more step and he'd be planting a surprise kiss on Jona's head. "What the..."