He slammed the trunk. “You’re still coming to Texas forvacation?”
“Yep.” I opened my car door before turning to give him one more hug. “Duh. I’ll see you in two weeks, and I expect to be wined and dined in that big fancy city ofyours.”
“You got it. Loveyou.”
He shut my door, and I blew him a kiss through the closed window, then pulled out onto the bumpydriveway.
* * *
Hartsfield Airport was chaos.Apparently a rainy Monday morning two days after Christmas was a popular time to fly. I struggled through the parking garage with my bags after turning in the rental car. I regretted putting my makeup bag on top of my backpack and piling them both on top of my rolling suitcase. Just as my arms felt like they’d give out from the weight of my luggage, I heard a shrill tone from my purse. My boss wascalling.
I hurried out of the garage and sat on a bench near the doors to answer. “Hello, this isLinda.”
“Linda, darling, it’s Tanya. Have you checked in your bags yet?” Tanya was out ofbreath.
“No, I just got to the airport. I’m actually stilloutside.”
“Fabulous. Change of plans. Can you take a job inAlaska?”
I almost dropped my phone in shock. “Alaska? In the middle ofwinter?”
Tanya sighed. “I know. I’m sorry. I got a call from one of my girls up there, and her mom has taken ill. She needs to leave as soon as I can get someone to cover for her, and you’re the only one who could go thisweek.”
I considered what I had in my bags. I’d learned early on to research the climate of my destination carefully. North Dakota was a frigid place, so I was already packed appropriately. “Well, actually, I guess I could. I’m packed for coldanyway.”
“Oh, you’re a lifesaver.” Her notoriously long nails clattered on her computer keyboard. “I’m changing your reservation now. Check your email when we hang up, you’ll find your new flight itinerary.” She paused, and more clicky-clacky typing sounds filled thesilence.
“Okay, the flight is in an hour, and it’s across the airport from your Dakota flight, so you better hurry. Thank you, and you can expect a little bonus in your next check for being soflexible.”
The phone clicked in my ear, signaling she was finished with the conversation. She was a competent boss, but she had no time tochat.
I laughed and pulled up the new itinerary. She wasn’t kidding about crossing the airport. I loaded myself back up and ran inside. Thankfully baggage check was close and had a short line. Once I was down to my purse and backpack, with thirty minutes until takeoff, I ran across the enormous airport. I’d never have made it if not for the shuttle from one terminal toanother.
As I walked through the tunnel from the gate to the plane, I tried to put my tickets back into my purse, shuffling my phone, wallet, and the cup of coffee I’d chanced the time to buy. I turned the corner to meet a smiling stewardess, the pilot standing behind her. Since the flight was so last-minute, all they had left were first-classtickets.
She reached out a hand. “May I take your backpack for you,ma’am?”
My left eyebrow rose of its own volition. I’d never had anyone offer to take my bag for me and put it in the overhead before. Must’ve been the first-class tickets. I could totally get used to that kind of treatment. Unfortunately, handing over the backpack was easier said than done as I still hadn’t put all of my small handheld items away in mypurse.
I gripped my phone in my right hand and motioned for the attendant to take my backpack off that arm. Even though my grasp on my phone felt secure, it apparently wasnot, and it slipped from my hand. The flight attendant reached for it as I did, and somehow I managed to smack it into a faster downwardspiral.
Bad phone luck to beat all bad phone luck, I was in the one spot in the whole gate that would ensure total annihilation of a phone—the gap between the gangway and the plane. I watched in horror as my phone sailed, turned to the perfect angle, and slid through the gap to the concrete—a good ten feetbelow.
Nothing for it. It shattered into several pieces. My heart sank. I’d liked that phone. I’d have to wait until I got to Alaska and go buy another one. Luckily I frequently backed up my contacts and data to thecloud.
I’d planned on checking all my flight information on the first leg of the trip from Atlanta to Dallas. I liked to have all gate info memorized so I wouldn’t have to pull my tickets out over and over. I’d also planned on that time to inform my family and friends of my destination change. It would have to wait. I hoped they wouldn’tworry.
My layover in Dallas was even shorter, so I had no time to try to borrow a phone to call my family. How they expected passengers to get from one flight to another in thirty minutes, I had no idea. I made it, starving andexhausted.
From Dallas I went to Seattle and had enough time to grab a sandwich and a bunch of snacks to stuff in my backpack. The flights had offered meager options for food. I was so hungry by then I didn’t even think about callinghome.
From Seattle to Anchorage, and from Anchorage I flew to a tiny airport in Northern Alaska. None of the flights left me enough time to stop in a cell phone store in the airports. I was beyond exhausted at that point but I wanted to get my journey finished so I could sleep before the other nurse left. By then, all thoughts of replacing my phone were gone, not that there was likely to be a cell store in the tiny town, anyway. I was sure my patient would have a phone or internet. How else would he have called for help with his brokenlegs?
I rented an SUV at the miniscule airport, consulted a map, and went on my way. The roads were packed with snow, and the vehicle was properly outfitted for driving in it. The problem? I grew up in Atlanta. We rarely saw any real winter weather in the South, so I was inexperienced in driving on snowy roads, especially at night. I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turnedwhite.
An hour and a half into my journey, my eyelids started to droop. I was in the middle of wild Alaska in the dark but only had about thirty minutes left to drive, according to the map. I blinked hard as I went around a sharp curve and then stood up on my brakes. A moose in the middle of the road shook his head at me. Realizing I wasn’t going to be able to stop in time, I jerked the wheel to avoid the giganticanimal.
Time passed in super slow-motion. Pain slashed my throat from my raw scream as the SUV bounced over a snow embankment. My body froze in fear while the vehicle did whatever it wanted to, despite both feet on the brakes. The seat belt burned my neck, momentum trying to jerk me upward. I stopped screaming with a grunt when the truck slammed into a thicktree.
