Long Way Home

1

"I can not wait to get home!" Harley says, her small body flopping onto the sofa in the hotel. Our bags are half packed, and the room is still to be cleaned and tidied.

"Tell me about it, this has probably been the worst trip out of all of them!" I sigh, running my hands through my hair in a stressed movement. "The clients so don't want to buy this shit so why do we keep trying to sell it?" My hand gestures to the boxes of health food, the product that our boss has recently invested in. It tastes vile, it looks like dirt and don't get me started on the smell. It may be good for your body, but its not good for your tastebuds.

"Why can't I just quit?" Harley sighs dramatically. She knows why - she's still paying back her student debts and we have rent to pay.

"You know why. Now quit complaining." Throwing another weary glance around the room, I let out a deep breath and grab a shirt from the floor. "Get up and pack."

It's a miracle that we fit everything into our suitcases. Admittedly it takes a bit of pushing and squeezing and squashing but eventually the zip closes and the seams risk bursting. Personally I think it's an accomplishment. The hotel room is now in an acceptable state, unlike before, so at least we won't get sued by the cleaners for being assholes. We even made the beds; the hotel better appreciate our good manners, even though we've sneaked the shampoo. For all they know, we used it all. In two days.

Harley tugs her bag down the corridor as I lock up, placing the room keys in the collection slot by the door. My cases weigh a ton but I make it to the elevator alive. The taxi is waiting and the receptionist bids us goodbye and hopes we have a good flight. And then we're leaving.

The sun is just beginning to dip below the horizon and the clouds are a hazy purple. The taxi weaves its way through the streets of the city, and as if it were a cradle being rocked by a mother, I'm drifting off like a baby. The yellow sun disappears and the lilac clouds ease into a smokey grey, and my eyelides can't hold out much longer. In the background the radio is playing the Rolling Stones, and Harley is snoring quietly. Sometimes I appreciate that I'm a long way from my Arizona home, because I really do love a sky filled with clouds.

The airport is cold and empty. No one wants late night Tuesday flights to Arizona in November, so our queue is fast and our terminal desolate. Theres just a group of guys sorting out their fair amount of luggage, about six businesspeople, a mother with a toddler and a sleeping husband I presume (she looks exhausted with the little boy sat in her lap yelling about dinosaurs) and three very smart looking women, all of whom are on the phone.

"Katy?" I stop my people watching to hand my passport to the man checking us in, and load my bags onto the conveyer. "Anything in the bags that we should know about?" he enquires.

"Just gross health food and clothes." I laugh. He smiles. "Nothing worse than unnecessary health food. I say stick to vegetables and you get the right vitamins. No one wants to eat dirt." Thank god someone agrees.

I move to the side as Harley checks in and collects her boarding pass, then we take our seats in the lounge area for a couple of hours. It's now almost midnight, and my short nap in the taxi is wearing off. My eyes feel gritty and my lids droop, my eyelashes obscuring my line of vision. I'm soon fast asleep again.