The Luftzeug
“Love is a fire that burns unseen.” - Luís Vaz de Camões, Rimas
When Hailey approached Tage on graduation day to offer her congratulations, he looked straight through her as if he couldn’t even see her. Then Mina appeared and like a kid in kindergarten, she poked her tongue out at Hailey as Tage wrapped his arm around her.
Tage wasn’t the only man snubbing Hailey. She hadn’t seen or heard from Fin in over two months, and her dream man, well, he was giving new meaning to the phrase “keeping a low profile.” Hailey was starting to think he was just a figment of her imagination after all.
And then there was Tomas. When her bathroom mirror disappeared, her phantom hair-dresser had disappeared with it.
Thankfully, Uncle Pix clapped her on the shoulder, startling her out of her trance before disbelief turned to self-pity.
“Congratulations, dear.” Pix lifted her off the ground in a great hug.
“Thank you,” she said with a bittersweet smile, imagining Holly standing next to him as he put her back down.
She didn’t feel much like celebrating—or existing—without her. Hailey needed a change of scenery.
August first couldn’t come soon enough.
Hailey laid out all the things she wanted to take to Alaska and set her little purse next to it, scratching her head.
What she really needed was a stuff-shrinker, she thought as she surveyed her pile. There was no way she’d fit all this into one small, seven-pound bag.
Shaking her head, she picked out the absolute necessities.
When it was all said and done, she barely got her micro-duffel closed over: one hand towel, a bar of soap, a bottle of shampoo, a comb, a toothbrush, one pair of jeans, three t-shirts, one sweatshirt, socks, undies, and her laptop.
That’s one strong zipper, she thought, deciding she’d just have to buy everything else she needed once she got to Alaska.
She grabbed the only picture she had of her and Holly dancing together from her bedroom mirror, tucked it in her back pocket, and left.
Twenty-five minutes in to their thirty-minute drive to the airport, Hailey slapped her forehead.
“I forgot my wallet.” She turned to Pix, eyes wide.
“I’ll mail it,” Pix said, but Hailey shook her head.
“I need to pay my initiation fees or else they won’t give me a boarding pass. I don’t even know how much it is.” She turned to her uncle. “How much do you think it is?”
“How am I meant to know these things?”
Pix pulled up to the curb, got out, and fished his “wallet” from his back pocket. He shoved it into Hailey’s hand. “There,” he said. “I’ll fetch your bags.”
“I can’t take all your money, Uncle Pix.” It was a wad of cash wrapped around a credit card and held together by a gumband.
“You will. Now, where’s yer bags?”
Hailey nodded to the small duffel on the ground next to her.
“That’s it? How in the name of God…” He shook his head and pointed to his wallet in Hailey’s hand. “Use it,” he said, “and remember, your Uncle Dale is there. He’s right there at the university, out digging in the mountain, but you call him should yeh need him, yeah?”
Hailey nodded and he hugged her like he was never going to see her again. “Remember your rhythms, Hailey,” he said.
“Uncle Pix, are you alright?”
“Right as rain, dear,” he said with a hoarse voice. “I’m so proud of you. Now I’ll see you again in a few months.” He gave Hailey her “luggage.”
“Love you Uncle Pix,” she said. “And make sure you eat!”
