Ppgz & Rrbz A wolves story

Chapter 40: What Wolves Think

Deth Jackson Jr checked his watch. He tapped his foot against the shiny, bare floor of the airport. He glared impatiently at the clock on the wall. "He should be here by now," DJ complained.

"Patience, Deth," his uncle Slicer said from nearby, his tone low and quiet.

DJ grunted and flopped down into the seat beside his uncle. "I don't have time for this. I'm being interviewed in a few hours. I don't want to be late when it's my house I'm being interviewed at!"

"Patience," Slicer murmured again, and then he said nothing.

DJ swallowed a groan and leaned his head back, staring up at the high ceiling. He tried to ignore the ticking of the clock on the wall near him. There were people all around him, staring at phones and laptops and reading and sleeping as they sat or walked around Townsville's airport. DJ himself was waiting for someone important.

He was waiting for his father.

It was already Friday, and school was over. DJ had been allowed to skip the last class in order to come to get his father (Slicer called the office and told them his nephew was sick). The young boy considered going to look if the plane had come in yet, but he knew it'd be useless. After all, he would've heard the rumbling of plane engines.

Eight more minutes passed and DJ perked up, glancing out the window. A plane was landing outside! And it was the one from Italy to Townsville, USA. Relieved, he jumped up and grabbed his burly uncle's arm, yanking. "Come on!"

His uncle said nothing and let himself be pulled along. They clustered around the pathway that had been set up for the plane's passengers, which was blocked off. People waiting outside the path watched for someone they knew, and a few held up signs. DJ waited impatiently, his heartbeat ticking like the clock on the wall. He had to wait awhile, but soon a long line of people pooled out into the open from a door.

Standing on his tiptoes, Deth tried to search the sea of faces for his father's calm and serene yet stern expression, sharp suit and tie, and long black hair. It didn't take long. His father's fancy black suit made him stick out like a sore thumb. "DAD!" he yelled, his voice almost drowned out by the crowd.

His father noticed though, waving. DJ didn't wave back. He was still feeling impatient. Deth Jackson Sr dragged a wheeled suitcase along until he reached the exit of the pathway. DJ ran to meet his father. "Dad, you're finally here! You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago!" his son exclaimed breathlessly.

"Sorry, il figlio. The plane was delayed a little." His father smiled charmingly, and a few women glanced his way.

Slicer joined him, nodding at the small wheeled suitcase. "You got any other luggage?" he asked his brother gruffly.

Deth Jackson Sr nodded. "Two more suitcases. A black one and a brown one. They weren't carry-ons though." He and Slicer shared a knowing look.

"We have to be quick," DJ said, already heading for baggage claim.

"Alright, il figlio. We'll hurry," his father agreed, walking after his son. "How has school been?"

"Fine," grunted DJ.

"And your classes?"

"Fine," he sighed back.

"And the war?"

This time Deth paused. But then he recovered and quickened his pace. "Fine."

"I heard that a couple of people were killed recently," his father commented.

"Well they're certainly not alive anymore," DJ shot back, checking his expensive silver watch again. He scowled. They were wasting time.

The trio made it to baggage claim in record time thanks to Deth Jr, and they waited while the suitcases rolled out on a circular conveyor belt. When Deth Sr pointed out his two suitcases, Slicer grabbed both of them and carried them off. They didn't need a cart with Slicer around.