Indiana Jones and the Lost Painting

Chapter 3

Indy dropped Marion off at the airport early so that she had plenty of time to catch her flight and so that they skipped the morning rush hour. He carried her suitcase in to have it checked and then accompanied her to the boarding gate. There they had a lazy couple of hours before the flight, talking about everything but Helena.

He got up to walk around and stretch his legs when the sight of planes taxiing on the runway caught his eye. He took all of these modern conveniences for granted. When he was born, airplanes had yet to get off the ground. Orville and Wilbur had yet to take their invention from Ohio to Kitty Hawk until he was four years old. And now, his wife was going to spend just a small portion of her day going coast to coast to see family.

Marion could see he was pensive. "What's on your mind?"

"Did I ever tell you about the time I took a plane from Hong Kong to the middle of India while stowed with live poultry."

"A few times."

"That's because it's a good story."

"Are you standing here missing the days when you had to ride with the chickens?"

"It used to be that just going somewhere was an adventure. Everything's so much more convenient now, but it's also so tedious."

"At least I know that the pilots won't skydive out of the airplane mid-flight."

"You were listening."

"Always," she said and hit Indy on the shoulder for the mere suggestion. "It looks like my plane is boarding. Thanks for keeping me company."

"There's no one whose company I would rather keep." Indy thought for a moment. "When you see Helena tell her..." And then he lost the words. "Tell him that he has my number."

Marion scoffed, and then gave him one last kiss before disappearing down the jetway.

*          *          *

When he got home, Indy gathered his hammer and some nails from his toolbox. He picked up his extension ladder from off the garage wall and slung it onto his shoulder. The gutters in the back had gotten loose. A few feet of them hung precariously off the side of the house, and he planned on tacking it back up, even if Marion warned against it. Besides, the gutters were quickly filling up with October leaves. He could clean them up while on his ladder.

Marion may not approve of him cleaning out and fixing the gutter, but if she asks, he'll say that it was the neighbor kid. His name is Sammy, or something like that. He was always coming over and asking if they needed any help around the house in exchange for a twenty. If Marion answers the door, then he might spend the afternoon trimming the bushes and mowing the lawn, but Indy always sent him away empty handed. He had a sneaking suspicion that the kid doesn't ask the thirty-something couple across the street.

He steadied the ladder along the side of the house, testing it firmly before ascending. He made his way around the house in this manner, scooping up leaves from the gutter and dropping them to the ground where the wet clump landed with a satisfying plop.

Eventually, he made his way to where the gutters hung lazily off the side of the house. He righted them and proceeded to nail them into place, but to get the final two nails in, he had to arch to the side, away from the ladder. He got a bead on the nail with his still working left eye and swung.

His arm movement threw him off balance, sending him backwards. For a brief moment he felt disconnected from anything, about to fall two stories. But Indy right himself, grabbing onto the gutter and inadvertently pulling it from the side of the house. Several new nails popped out, but in the end it held, preventing Indy from falling.