HalfWorlder #Wattys2017

Chapter 4-Area 53

The pilot announced our descent into Gardiner Public Airport, then began a steep drop onto the valley runway. I peeked out the window while the pilot put down the flaps. A swath of mountains rose high around us on all sides and an expanse of brown grass ran from the asphalt all the way to the foot of those mountains. It was like we were landing in a fish bowl made of peaks and scorched grass.

The little jet vibrated as the wheels rotated out of its belly and mom's hands flew out of her lap to clench her armrests. She never liked to fly and now I knew why. It took her crew 200 years just to get here, only to crash on arrival. The irony was great, considering they came here searching for another lost starship.

I took mom's hand and felt tension knot her muscles as we came down and sped along the airport's one runway, then relax as we slowed. My stomach twisted but for different reasons. My mind kept replaying the dream from last night. Out my window, the scene outside blurred as we roared to the end of the strip, never really stopping. Our pilot was in a hurry.

We slowed only long enough to make a wide U-turn and head back toward the motley group of buildings that sat off to the side of the runway. He nosed in to one of the few private hangers that sat amongst the airport's buildings. It was old and gray and made of molded metal. It had seen weather, but it was free of rust and had a fresh coat of paint.

Uncle Morty waited by the open door of his black Humvee, parked at the back. His arms were crossed over his chest and he tapped his foot like a drummer going hard on the pedal of a bass drum. He stood there straight and tall, yes, but I got the impression his body was coiled like a spring and near ready to snap. He waved impatiently at the plane, unaware of us waving at him from inside.

Mom wasted no time when the door opened. She grabbed her purse and left me to follow alone.

When I emerged, Morty called out to me. "Gil, my boy. You've grown up since last I saw you."

"You could say that," I answered.

Morty laughed and walked over to clap me hard on the back. He caught the eye of his steward as he did, who quickly sped up off loading our suitcases. Morty had that effect on people. The steward brought them to the back of the Hummer and slammed down the gate, downshifting his eyes.

"You're ready to go sir."

"Thank you, Tom. That will be all."

The steward bolted and Morty motioned for us to get in.

"Buckle up," he said from the front. "I'm going to make good time back to the ranch."

He gestured with his hands on how to connect the clasps of my harness-like seatbelt. I guessed Morty liked to off-road on his ranch, but who wouldn't if they owned nearly 2,000 acres of land along Yellowstone National Park?

I should have gotten the message then.

The engine revved and Morty bolted out of the garage, barely pausing to see if any other traffic was on the airport road. I tumbled across the seat and slammed my shoulder into the door. Mom didn't notice, but I caught Morty grinning at me in the rearview mirror. I went to work on the straps. The way he drove, I thought I might die otherwise.

The two fell into a hushed conversation, so I kept quiet. I wished I could catch a quick nap, but every time I closed my eyes lately, the nightmare-girl was there. My exhaustion wasn't enough for me to offer her another invitation back into my head by falling asleep. I was almost positive she'd be back, and I couldn't shake the feeling that settled into me after I woke this morning already. Her words held such weight, they practically pressed my mind into believing it was real. I hated dreams like that.