Flight 59 to JFK (Part I)

“My pretties!” Christopher shrieked when he saw his tomato plants hadn’t been watered properly in his absence. “Rood, how could you neglect them like that?”

“It rained the other day. I thought that would take care of them.”

Christopher rushed to his potting table and scooped a dose of Miracle Gro out of the box and into his watering can. He filled the can from a hose on the patio of his Brooklyn Garden and began sprinkling water on the thirsty vines.

“Well it didn’t. Look, they're as dry as an old lady’s insides.”

“How was your trip?” Rood asked as Christopher continued watering.

“You know. Horseshoes with the good ole boys. They always enjoy having the family’s token queer at the reunion.”

“What’s that about?”

“You should come next time. I think they accept the idea of my being gay, but if the reality of my big black stud were shoved in their shitkicker faces, that might be a different thing.”

“Thanks for the invite, but I think I’ll pass. I’ve provided enough shock value to rednecks over the years.”

Rood sat on one of the patio chairs.

“You would not believe what happened to me at the airport, though,” Christopher said.

“What?”

“I was waiting at the gate for the boarding call. A tall, strong man sat down next to me.”

“You were checking him out? You slut.”

“No I wasn’t checking him out. It’s just that he sat down next to me. I noticed him. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He might’ve fallen asleep.”

“You were checking him out.”

“I don’t think he was gay. I’m not sure he was straight, either though. Something about him was strange. He was pale. He looked, I don’t know, broken. He slept, or just had his eyes closed, for a while. The plane was delayed. We were both sitting there.”

Christopher set down the watering can and sat cross-legged on the ground near Rood’s feet.

“That’s when things got strange.”

“How?”

“A girl walked up. Well, a woman. Kinda pretty. Little bitty thang. Bangs. Nice legs.”

“What did she do?”

“She stood right in front of the guy. The guy had his eyes closed. I think she saw I was gonna nudge him. She motioned with her hand for me not to. She wanted him to open his eyes on his own, maybe sense her presence, and then see her. I thought maybe they’d gone to school together, or worked together, or maybe dated, or maybe they were related. I had no idea what was about to happen.”

“What happened?”

“Well, I think that he did sense her presence and he opened his eyes.”

“And?”

“Well it was the damnedest thing I ever saw. You’d think he thought he was still dreaming. He looked at her. He closed his eyes. He shook his head. He turned and looked at me. He turned back to look at her. His jaw dropped and he turned pale. He was realizing she was really there.”

“So, he was like, freaked out?”

“Oh, no. He didn’t know if it was real or not. He was not quite ready to be freaked out yet.”

“What was she doing?”

“Just standing there, watching him react.”

“Didn’t they say anything to each other?”

“Oh, yeah. But not at first. They looked at each other for the longest time. I thought for sure they were gonna call our flight and she was gonna walk away and I was never gonna know what it was all about. Then he said:

“ ‘I said I was sorry. I said I was sorry. I said I was sorry.’ Three times, like that. Like a magical chant to make her go away. Like Dorothy clicking her heels.”

“What did she do?”

“She just stood there. And then he started talking.”

“What did he say?”

“I’ll tell you. Let me get a beer, though. I’m getting’ as thirsty as my pretty tomatoes were.”

Christopher got up and went through the back door into the kitchen and came out with a Pilsner Urquell. He took a swig and continued.

“He said: ‘I thought I had the green light. I told you. I never would’ve done it. I thought I had the green light. I’ve paid. I said I was sorry. I paid and paid and paid. My brother’s dead. My mom had a stroke. I went to prison. You know that. I said I was sorry. I said I was sorry.’ Then he started crying. Sobbing. Hands over his face. My Lord, I said to myself.”

“And what about the lady?”

“She let him cry for a while. Then she talked.”

Charlie sipped his beer and stood up, imitating the woman’s cool demeanor.

“”She said: ‘I know. You said all that in court. I know. I know what happened. That’s not why I came over when I saw. I know your brother and mother were victims, too.’ ”

“Then he looked at her like he couldn’t believe she was saying it. His eyes got all wide. He didn’t say anything. Then she started talking again.” She said: ‘I know it’s your fault. But I was in it, too. I played a role, too. I was your victim. But I was involved, too. Maybe I shouldn’t have ever gotten in your truck with you. Maybe I shouldn’t have reported it. I ask myself that, too. I know your brother’s dead and your mom’s paralyzed. It’s a small town. Everybody knows what happened. I’ve felt guilty about it since that day. I told the truth about what happened. You know that. But I know what happened because I told the truth. That’s why I’m standing here. I need you to forgive me, too.’ ”

“Wow,” Rood said.

“Then she reached out her hand to him. He looked at it. He started crying again. He shook her hand. Tears were flowing down his face. He was blubbering. ‘I forgive you,’ he said. Then it was too much for him, I guess. He got up and ran away. I mean ran. Like a deer. He ran across the terminal and down a hallway. The lady walked away. But I saw her on the plane later. You know me. I’m the worst godawful gossip between here and Pensacola. I had to know what happened. So I walked down the aisle and asked her after the seatbelt sign came off.”

“What did you say?”

“I said: ‘Ma’am, I saw you and that gentleman out there and I am sorry but I am a godawful gossip and I just have to ask what that was all about.’ ”

“Did she tell you?”

“No, she just closed her eyes and shook her head and made a little ‘no’ sign with her hand. So I guess I’ll never know.”

“Musta been a traffic accident, right? He thought he had the green light. His brother died. She was probably in the car, huh?”

“Yeah, I thought of that, but …”

“But what? Come inside. I’ve missed you. Let me give you a massage to take away your travel stress.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice!” Christopher went inside and stripped and stretched himself out on their bed, stomach down. Rood straddled him and began working his hands over Christopher’s shoulders.

“Unless …” Rood said.

“Unless what?”

“Maybe the green light was for sex. Maybe he was saying he thought she was OK with having sex, and it turned out she wasn’t. And she reported him.”

Christopher stiffened.

“Yes, that must be it!” Then he relaxed again. “No, the brother. And the mom. That doesn’t really fit, does it?”

“Could.”

“Guess we’ll never know.”

Under Rood’s exquisite touch, Christopher soon forgot about what he’d seen at the airport while he was waiting for the flight back from Florida.