M For Moscow

34 | i'm going to...

You know that part in the movie where the girl had a ground-breaking discovery and was now racing around some part of the world chasing it?

That was me at that very moment, in a coat in a low-budget airport that seemed to boycott air conditioners, wheeling my suitcase past trollies and the elderly, late by ten minutes past final call, as I chased down one thing and one thing only: Moscow.

I didn't realise it now but Moscow was my stepping stone. It was my life-changing experience, the reason I was who I was today, and the only reason a young girl recognised me and shouted at the other travellers to clear a path because Macy Rhodes was on a mission!

I thanked her with a kiss on the cheek and raced through the open roads, feeling a lot like I was in a movie. I didn't even pose when a grandpa whipped out his digital camera to take a fast-motion picture.

When I finally got to the gate, I slammed my passport onto the desk, bending over to catch my breath. The airport lady chopped it and led me through before closing the doors behind me. As happy as a clam, I walked down the aisle and into my seat in economy. It was only when I tucked my purse underneath and buckled my seatbelt did I notice all the passengers around me were glaring at me.

Was this a mistake?

The plane took off and I closed my eyes, not letting the stares get to me. I was on a mission and there was no way I was going to let a bunch of men with receding hairlines get to me.

But that didn't mean they wouldn't try.

"Hey, lady. Next time, get to the airport two hours early." The old man beside me said, tapping my shoulder until it bruised.

"Well, hey, this was a spontaneous thing. I literally just decided to fly..." I checked my watch, "...a half hour ago!"

The guy on the other side interrupted. "Then decide earlier!"

"Seriously? OK, you guys, but I'm on a mission. I'm going back to Moscow, I'm going to fight for my boyfriend, I'm going to send my rapist to jail, I'm going to continue modelling and, eventually, I'm going to make 3D imprints of me!" I informed them with full confidence and without realising that somewhere along the third "I'm going to" they had fallen asleep.

I grumbled, feeling personally attacked that they missed my chant, before nestling deep into my seat and repeating the first part over and over in my head.

I'm going back to Moscow...

***

But I did not.

"Hello, this is your captain speaking. Due to bad weather, we have just been informed by air traffic control that we cannot land in Sheremetyevo International Airport today. We'll be proceeding to Platov International Airport in Rostov-on-Don while we wait for further instructions. Our ground agents will be at ready looking for the best solution for each one of you. Thank you and sorry for the inconvenience."

"What?" I yelled at the speaker, out of anger. This meant I had to wait longer before I could see Luka and kiss the crap out of him.

The old man startled me when he decided to open his eyes and show me that he wasn't sleeping. "What a kind man but the weather is not his fault."

"Oh, so you side with him and not me?" I spat out in disbelief, getting droplets all over his circular glasses.

Across the aisle, the same guy decided to join in our conversation again. "He can't control the weather. You can control your time."