Elle Jones

Chapter 22: Some Helpful Advice

I stifled a moan as Erykah and I briskly walked along the concrete floor, avoiding cars who had enjoyed making my journey a living nightmare. From red convertibles to silver gray vehicles, I had Erykah avoided them back away from the middle of their parking space.

As we safely stormed across the chaotic parking lot, Erykah and I entered J.F.K International airport through a two-sided glass door.

"Holy shit, " she murmured.

We are standing in the midst of an unusual planet: the color of white make up the walls, floors, ceilings, and practically the lights. On either side of the airport, are restaurants, gift shops, and other small establishments.

Hell, it was like wandering through a mall on Saturdays.

But as Erykah and I continued further, a fresh cold wind rushed over us as several people tread their feet along the icy white floor. While some dragged on their suitcases, others were carrying luggage inside duffel bags. In the meantime, announcements buzzed the arrival and departure of the airplanes as bright lights and signs hung from the white ceilings like chandeliers.

Grabbing ahold of my hand, Erykah scurried past tired men, women, and children until I tell her to slow down.

"Why?" she asks, frowning.

I give her a warning glare. "Because you are going to trip and fall flat on your face."

Erykah blushed then slowed down.

"Sorry," she says in a quiet voice.

"It's fine," I replied, "just don't create attention like that."

We continued heading straight when Erykah asked: "Am I really going to Saint Adam's?"

I nod silently.

"Why can't I come with you guys?" Erykah whined.

Avoiding the subject, I searched around for the bathroom when I noticed one in a restaurant.

It was a Panda Express restaurant where a line of hungry customers stood in front of a glass case, shielding the steamy food from any unwanted hands.

Behind the case, were four chefs communicating with one another in Chinese. In the meantime, the light brown tiles make up the floor as small green chairs and tables are pushed away to make room.

Exotic menus hung above bobbing heads, filled with a selection of steamy fried rice, vegetables, and spicy meats.

While everyone was distracted, I pulled Erykah close then scurried into the women's washroom.

Dreary gray walls, dark brown stalls, white tiled floors, and matching white sinks make up the bathroom as Erykah and I ushered inside.

Up against the wall is a large, thick piece of glass which sticks above the row of unused sinks. Next to the mirror is a white dispenser, which spits out brown paper towels.

Underneath it is massive trash can completely full of wet, crumpled paper towels. Although the smell was faint, I can easily detect a hint of lavender, damp toilet paper, and nail polish.

In fact, traces of glittery red slime splashed against the gray sink countertop-appearing as if someone ate a bad lobster.

Ducking my head, I released Erykah's hand and pushed my hand against the brown stalls to find no one sitting on the toilet seat.

"Thank God, " I sighed in relief. "No one is here."

After locking the women's washroom door, I set my backpack down on the tiled ground.