Tales from the Garden of Eden (COMPLETED)

Chapter 6

Humming awoke me, it seems to ebb and flow, but never disappearing fully. It is mildly annoying, I think, as I struggle to open my eyes. Is this what waking up from a drug-induced sleep? It is horrible, like I woke from a coma or something.

     Jack is still asleep next to me, snoring softly with his head resting on his hand. I smile softly, his sleeping pills must've been stronger than mine.

     I hear Sydney and Jonathan talking softly in front of me about someone I don't know, probably from their school. I debate whether it would be weird to start a conversation amidst the rows, and after coming to the conclusion that it would, I find where my ear buds had fallen out and plug them in. Before turning on a show, I look on the screen to see how long until we arrive. The numbers tick down, from 23 minutes to 22 minutes while I look. I decide to just start playing music, because I want to preserve phone battery. I turn on one of the radio stations that they play on the plane, and listen to the top alternative songs of the week.

     I know I should probably be bursting out of my seat with excitement, but I'm more ready to get out of the plane than anything. Although I've only been awake for about an hour all together, I'm starting to develop cabin fever. So I start to daydream about sightseeing. I debate over buying gifts for my friends and family, but then again, I don't want to have to carry around extra weight.

     That tends to bother me, because I know I'm not the biggest or strongest person, and carrying a pack filled with camping supplies and extra clothing will surely be tough. I think about Jack, a towering six foot three and what looks to be about 200 pounds. Carrying an extra thirty pounds on his back will be like nothing, but for someone who weighs just a little more than half of his, with a height of 5'3, I feel like I'd topple over. I begin to think, and I try and remember if anyone was shorter than me. I come to the conclusion that no, I am the shortest person here. I don't know how I feel about that, I've always liked feeling small and almost cute in size. But here, it gives me a distinct advantage. Although, I think, I am here with one of the tallest, so maybe he could help me out a little.

     When we have ten minutes left into the flight, and we start to descend, I reach over to shake my comrade awake. It is clear he doesn't want to be woken, as he shrugs off my hand and turns his head the other way. Just to be cruel, I open up the window to let the blinding, two o'clock sunlight-already so low in the sky because of the Alaskan winter-in. It didn't help either that the sun is reflecting off of the snow-capped mountain which surround the Ted Stevens Anchorage International Airport. I hear a groan from Jack, who makes a bigger deal of this than it is. He's theatrical to his bones, and this act of curling into a ball talking about how the sun is painful just proves it.

     He lies in his little ball until I finally have had enough fun at his expense and shut the plastic shade, making a loud noise to let him know it was really closed. Nonetheless, it takes him a few seconds to emerge from under his arms, peeking up at me. "Was that really necessary?"

     I smile. "Of course it was; you were out." I guess that wasn't true, he could have woken up gradually, but that's no fun.

     He grunts, then looks at me, eyes still lidded from sleep. "How much longer?"

     "Just under ten minutes," without looking at him, I can see his hands tighten on the armrest, the only palpable sign that he was in duress.

     I almost want to reach out and put a comforting hand on his arm-actually, I really, really want to-but decide against it, that would be weird on my part. So I stay in the confines of the two seat rests, mentally pitying him. I had never thought that he would have this problem, but I guess everyone has their secrets.