man destroys god || i. malcolm

1

The double doors nearly grabbed Aria's ankle as they shut abruptly. Her fourth job in three months, gone. Apparently, office jobs weren't for her. Nor was food, retail, or custodial service. She seriously couldn't keep a job if her life depended on it. Her only steady income was nannying these two rich kids whose parents were having a messy divorce.

She loved the kids she nannied and she needed the money desperately. Alright, she wasn't really a nanny, she was technically a babysitter. But nanny sounded much better on a resumé and didn't make her sound like she was 13 years old.

As a starving freelance photographer with a tiny apartment and an English master's degree, she wasn't exactly living the high life. When Mrs. Murphy offered her an extra one thousand dollars to watch the kids for a weekend in Costa Rica with all expenses covered, she agreed.

The only reason Aria agreed to go was for the money. She hated the heat, she hated theme parks, and she hated traveling.

She knew it wasn't enough money for more than two months' rent, but pretty much anything helped. So there she was, packing a backpack for a weekend at a theme park.

Her friends were more excited about the trip than she was. Testing out a theme park before opening was definitely cool, but Aria had never loved theme parks growing up. It was always too chaotic for her. But the kids were really excited and wanted to see their grandfather.

It just reminded her of how low on the totem pole she was. She was following some kids to their grandfather's theme park. Whose grandfather owns a theme park? No one Aria had ever met, that's for sure.

She was struggling to pack her backpack. Okay, cross-body bag. Okay, oversized fanny pack.

Again, all expenses covered, so she didn't have to worry about paying for a checked bag. But she hated airports, and wanted to spend as little time there as possible. And that meant no checked bags. Every time she'd traveled by air (twice, once to New York with her eighth grade class and once to Montana for Christmas with an ex-boyfriend's family) she'd stuffed a carry-on bag and dealt with it.

How much do you need to pack for a weekend at  a theme park in Costa Rica? Two outfits, a hat maybe? Her toothbrush, deodorant, and hairbrush. Some CLIF bars and a water bottle, and she cut it there. And her camera, of course.

Anything else she would need she could probably get at the airport or would already be there. Probably.

That night, Aria set out her outfit for the travel day (her favorite part of going anywhere) and got in bed for what would be her last sleep until Monday. Which obviously she didn't know at the time.

In the early morning, Aria hopped into her car, tossing her bag into the passenger seat.

She drove to the Murphy's house and knocked on the front door. She was met with Tim and Lex already dressed and holding their suitcases. Tim was talking at the speed of light, and Aria only caught a few words. Lots of 'dinosaur' and 'Dr. Grant.' The kid was always talking about dinosaurs, so she engaged in the conversation, clueless of why he was talking about it.

Both kids grabbed onto Aria's hands immediately, hardly wanting to let go when they got to the car. Tim still hadn't stopped rambling. As soon as they stepped out of the car at the airport the kids grabbed her hands again.

Aria hated airports. She hated airplanes. And navigating the massive airport while also trying to keep track of such young kids would be absolute hell. They made it in and to the gate with their backpack carry-ons, though Tim had packed a little too much and his bag didn't fit the weight requirements. Aria let out a long sigh and checked the bag. The extra money would be charged to Mrs. Murphy, but Aria still felt skeptical over the whole thing.