The Sound of Their Presence

Chapter Thirty: Ocean, Open Skies, and Foreign Language Mix-Ups

Cheyenne's POV

     I waken to Shane gently shaking my shoulders. We are in an airport parking lot, and Jillian is nowhere in sight. When I raise an eyebrow at Shane, he only pulls my hands into his and pulls me to my feet. He pulls me into his arms, so that his arm is around my shoulder. Does he think that he is sheilding me from the crisp snow falling quickly in this Iowa airport?

   "Where is your aunt?"

    "She has to take a flight a few hours behind us so that she will be sober." Shane says this coolly, straight faced, and emotionless. I find this painful to read on his normally warming features.

    "Sober? What happened?" Maybe I can move on from my anger with him. If he will forgive me, too . . .

    "She was drunk when she first picked you up the other night." I realize it must be six in the morning, as we gather our luggage and wheel it towards the looming, muddy snow shaded building. The building turns out ot not be made of concrete, as I guessed from the distance, but instead, grey and some beige bricks make up the outer walls.

    I let Shane take care of tickets, and walk around in a daze. Even at this hour, poeple of all sorts roam the large building. A little girl begging her mother for something. A young man wheeling around an elderly woman with an air tank. The red bandanna is removed from his neck and given to her to sneeze into. A teenage couple makes out in a set of chairs, until a member of airport security makes a hand motion and speaks quickly to them. It turns out to be an old friend of mine.

    "Miranda!" I shout, pulling out of my funk once I recognize her. We meet halfway for a hug. Shane is not impressed with my actions, and neither is Miranda's candy, but we don't care.

   "God, I haven't seen you in like three years!" Miranda cries out in my ear. I usually don't hug random people, or people in general at that. But Miranda used to be my best friend.

    "I know! I have missed you," I say back.

    "How much have you moved since Arizona?"

    "Only four times. I have been living in Michigan again, back to my hometown, cold and snow and all." We laugh for a moment, before she introduces me to her candy.

    "This is Vincent," she gestures wildly with her arm, and I notice his multitude of tattoos and peircings.

    "You should stay away from that," Vincent whispers in my ears, softly, but not softly enough, as he eyes up Shane. Before I can say anything or come up with a retort, Shane grabs my arm and yanks me hard.

     "I will miss the flight if we don't get through security right now," he smoothly fakes a smile at the other two. I don't know why Miranda is with someone like Vincent, who seems to be creepy in demeanor. I overlook people's appearances, even those like Vincent, whom where five pounds of mascara . . .

---------------------------------

    I some how live through being patted down by a large man and being scanned through the awful machines the airport calls security, and sit next to Shane on the plane, towards the back. I quickly lose patience with sitting in front of the bathroom and plug in the earbuds to my Ipod. I do not want to listen to the sounds coming from the bathroom. Especially when pairs go in.

    Caranking up Nirvana on my little silver cube, I look out at the glistening waters thousands of miles below. I had never been on an air plane before now, and I kind of enjoy the idea of being so high up in the air and travelling at high speeds. The idea of jumping alone gives me an adrenaline rush. I see several dark specks moving slowly across the open waves, sliding through the ocean. It takes me a moment to realize that the specks are ships, filled with people, like this plane. I eventually doze off, like Shane already has.

--------------------------------

    When Shane wakes up again, it seems that he must have carried me out into an airport. Shane already is standing near me, whispering in a frantic voice into his phone. I rise to my own feet, grabbing my luggage that he had already retrieved from the baggage claim.

    He see me glaring at them, and before I can approach, he rushes to my side and drags me out of the airport.

    "Where is Jilll?"

    "She couldn't leave without Tina," Shane remarks, as if it is no big deal. He lifts his index finger to my lip to silence me. We wait in a very long, awkward silence for a bus to pull up to the curb. I am first to board, and pull out several American dollars.

    "Trois billets satisfont ! À moins que vous ne permettiez pas des douches, puis il sera deux." I joke to the driver. The chubby man just stares at me, a dazed expression plastered to his face.

    "Wieviele?" I realize at his question that we are not in Paris.

    I rephrase my original statement, haveing been 'Two tickets, unless you don't allow dueches, one simply', "Drei Karten, bitte," which translated to 'Two tickets, please. Whatever Shane had done to ruin my fun this time! This is Germany, not Paris.