Orlando Blooming

I. Orlando Blooming

The first thing that Kevin Price did as soon as his plane's wheels scraped the pavement of the SLC International Airport runway was book himself another flight. He had been through hell-- quite literally-- the past three years and he wasn't about to live through the angst of seeing his family with all of the stress he had on his shoulders, weighing him down as though they weighed a hundred pounds and he weighed ten. He needed a break-- a real break, to a relaxing place that wasn't chock full of safari ants or sweaty Mormon missionaries. A break to a place where he could feel like he was complete and whole. A break to a place that was somewhere incredible. A break to place no other than Orlando, Florida.

It wasn't like this was completely random; he'd been planning to return to his favourite place on earth since he even got shipped off to Uganda to begin with. In fact, he'd been planning to go back there since he was nine years old. Back when he was still entirely devoted to his faith as a Latter-Day Saint, he told himself that Heavenly Father put the fuzzy, exciting feeling he got whenever his thought about the place in his stomach because that was where his was meant to be-- that was where God wanted him to spend the rest of his life. "There's more to the world than Provo, Utah, and Brigham Young University," he had told his parents when he'd turned nineteen, "and when I get my mission in Orlando, I'll prove that to you!" Of course, he never did get his mission in Orlando, and instead had to settle for hot, mosquito-infested Kitguli, Uganda. But that didn't change the fact that he needed to go there. He was only twenty-one-- he had all the time in the world.

So he used his Visa card and bought himself a plane ticket as soon as he hopped off the plane, his head throbbing dully at the change in atmosphere. It hadn't been chilly and humid in Uganda (or on the plane), and the lack of half-naked Ugandans was a little unusual.

He felt a small twinge in his stomach that came with a bit of sadness; he'd certainly grown close to the other Elders, and being without them for once was a little sad (except for the "prophet" Arnold Cunningham, who was from Utah, too, and would be practically following Kevin around until his next plane ride (he had also somehow managed to convince Mafala to let Nabalungi come to America with him)). He was certainly going to miss Elder Poptarts and his silly addiction to the frosted pastries, and Elder Church's slightly silly addiction to his very close friendship to said Elder. He was going to miss Elder Neeley's ideas and Elder Davis' caution. He was going to miss Elder Schrader's careful contemplation of everything. He was going to miss Elder Zelder constantly trying to outwit everyone.

Most of all, though, he was going to miss Elder McKinley.

The former District Leader, who should have left three months before Kevin and Arnold had, chose to stay in Uganda to see them off ("The mess you two could make without me being there! Of course I have to stay. Someone's got to clean up after Elder Cunningham!"). Unexpectedly, though, the night before Kevin and Arnold departed, he left without saying goodbye. He was always so kind and helpful-- every single one of the group regarded him as the sweetest, most respectable district leader they'd ever known. Sure, he struggled with himself and battled hell dreams every night and sometimes Kevin would catch him awake past hours, with dark circles around swollen, wet eyes-- but he was strong. He was always there when someone needed him, almost always putting everyone else first and himself last. He had the brightest smile and the bluest eyes that shone when he was happy-- even if it was just for a second-- and sometimes he bit his lip and raked his hand through his soft-looking red hair when he was really nervous (not that Kevin paid attention). Sometimes he'd gaze off into the distance, and Kevin would wonder what he was thinking (he would often look at the other missionary so hard that he could count the freckles on his pale cheeks). Sometimes the bright pink or red sequins would be too distracting, and his glorious singing and and dancing would cease, and he'd just stop everything and busy himself with something less theatrical. Sometimes Kevin could hear him crying, when everyone else was asleep, and he'd feel desperate to help him in some way. And sometimes, Kevin wanted to reach out and touch him-- give him a sign of comfort to let him know he wasn't alone. But he never got to touch nor say goodbye to the complicated Connor McKinley, and if he was honest, it hurt him a little. He would have liked to be closer to him. He needed more than just Arnold in his inner circle.

Kevin bought his ticket and sat himself down with his suitcase, the chill of air conditioning a pleasant hug for him. He enjoyed his solitude for half a second before Arnold Cunningham and a very tranced-looking Nabalungi Hatimbi sat down beside him. Oh, boy.

"Hey, buddy!" Arnold exclaimed cheerfully.

Kevin gave a small half-smile. "Arnold, we're not mission companions anymore. You don't have to follow me everywhere."

"I know that," Arnold said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm not following you! If anything, it's you following me!"

Kevin's train of thought slowed for a second. He turned to fully face his bespectacled friend and raised an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

"We are going to Orlando, too," Nabulungi pitched in, her smile wide, brown, almond-shaped eyes shining with excitement. "Elder Thomas and Elder Church told us to meet them there. They told Arnold that he should take me to a place called Diss-knee."

Arnold beamed at Nabulungi before giving a small giggle. "We figured that we shouldn't try and invite you because you'd probably already be going. And we were right!"

The train came to a complete halt. Kevin felt a little glad that he wouldn't be alone, but also a little upset that they would keep him out of the loop. What if he hadn't decided to go to Orlando? Would they have invited him?

He was stirred out of ponderance as a voice came over the intercom, "Flight 426 to Orlando will be departing momentarily. I repeat, Flight 426 to Orlando will be departing momentarily."

With a sigh and an acceptance of the fact that he was not going to be completely alone, he stood up and headed for security. In just a few hours, he'd be in the city of his dreams.