Goodbye, my love // a.i.

Chapter 3

As we go through the airport doors, my eyes go wide at the sight of the huge place. Pulling my suitcase behind me, I walk with my mother towards the end of the long line directed by black belts leading to the security and bag checks. We inch closer to the front of the line, and when we get there, I pick up my suitcase and take off my backpack, lay them both on the conveyor belt and watch them disappear behind the plastic flaps.

"Be sure to check yourself for metal items before going through security," says the intercom repeatedly.

I take off my earrings and the necklace that my mother gave me when I was eight and put them on the table where I can get them after going through the metal detectors.

When I walk into the see-through metal detector, I stand facing the rest of the security room and the door closes, encasing me in the tube. I then begin to panic and struggle for breath, remembering that I am very claustrophobic. Putting my hands over my head, I close my eyes and focus on my breathing. I hear the metal bars spinning around me and hope it's almost over.

Finally, I hear the large door open and let out a sigh of relief, rushing out of the metal detecting tube.

"Are you alright?" my mother asks me, while I'm slinging my backpack over my back and picking up my suitcase.

"Yeah, just claustrophobic," I say, giving her a small smile.

My mom grabs her bags and we step onto the escalator that will take us to the conveyor belt that puts our baggage on the plane.

"Our plane is with Delta Airlines, which is at Area A, so find the Area A, flight 478 baggage line," my mom tells me.

Then I see "Area A Flight 478" in bright flashing letters on a screen above me.

"There it is," I say and we walk over to get in line to put our bags onto the conveyor belts.

As we wait in line, I watch the people in front of us walk to a booth and put their names on some sort of tag that they attach to their suitcases. When we are in the front of the line, the lady in charge of the tags calls for the next people and my mother and I walk forward.

"Just write your first and last name and your flight number on the tag and clip it onto your bags. Then, you can go put your bags onto the conveyor belt. Be sure to keep the bag that you want to take onto the plane with you," the lady says all of this like it's a speech, and I guess it must be.

I grab a pen off of the counter and write "Ashli Williams, flight 478" on the tag, then clip it onto the handle of my suitcase. I wait for my mom to do the same and we walk together to the conveyor belt and lay our suitcases on it, watching it drag them into some unknown compartment.

***

After about two hours of waiting in the airport lounge, I hear, "Everyone attending Flight 478 with Delta Airlines, your plane is now boarding."

I stand up at the same time as my mother and we both sigh, eager to leave.

"That's us, sweetie," she says and gives me a light shoulder hug as we walk to the long line of people getting their plane tickets and passports checked. As we inch closer to the front of the line, my mom hands me my passport and plane ticket to be scanned. I hold onto both of them as if my life depends upon them, which it sort of does.

We are now at the front of the line and the lady asks me to show her my passport and my plane ticket. She scans my ticket and says, "Have a good flight," without looking up.

My mom and I walk out of the airport through the sliding doors and gaze at the huge planes runways. Our plane is parked straight ahead in front of us, marked as "Delta Airlines" in huge, bright-colored letters, and in smaller, black letters it says, "Flight 478".

"Wow," is all I can manage to say, and my mother just nods with an expression almost as dazed as my own.