Rich white bitch! He knew the type all right. She had the word �user� written all over her forehead. Chew them up and spit them out. That�s the motto. Suck their blood dry.
What did she think, anyway? That he was doing it from the goodness of his heart? That he thought it was fun? That he had nothing better to do at five in the morning?
He hated smiling at those people, who looked through him as if he wasn�t even there. Not only the whites. The rich black ones too. Sometimes he thought that he hated those even more. But liking or hating anybody was a luxury he could not afford. It was a way to make a living, and as long as people kept packing the stifling airport, day or night, he was going to be there, smiling until his lips fell off.
Still, once in a while came someone who managed to throw him off balance. Like that one. Look at her standing there, checking her ticket. Next to her were the suitcases he had helped her carry. Huge black ones. Heavy too. Probably going off to get married or something. Nobody carries that much with them on a trip. And he should know. Nineteen years. His back wasn�t what it used to be. But he could still do the work, and as long as he could, he was going to.
Happily ever after. Did he ever believe in it? Maybe, as a young boy, when his mother told him all those stories at bedtime. When he still believed he could be anything he wanted to be. They all lied. Encouraged him to dream. His parents, his grandma, his teachers. Especially Mrs. Robson. She always made him feel special. Like he was smart. She thought he would be a teacher, and for a while there he wanted to, uncool as it was. He could pinpoint the day it all went to hell. But his life wasn�t all that bad. And his work was okay. It was only people like her... Who did she think she was anyway? Checking her ticket again, like it could change from the last time she looked at it. He knew her type all right. An uptight little snob.
JFK airport. She still couldn�t believe it. Not that it was the first time she�d ever flown. She remembered Christmas when she was 12. It was the second out of three times she saw her grandparents. Her mother wasn�t too close to them. But just before that Christmas her mother had left her father, and she and her mom flew to Oregon.
Her mother was so nervous about meeting her parents again. She made her wear one of those dresses that her grandmother had sent, even though she usually wore overalls. And she combed her hair for so long that she was afraid she�d lose all her hair, even though she was old enough to know better.
Her grandfather had bought her a teddy bear. She could still remember his face. A seventy eight year old man, with bushy white eyebrows, a reddish face and very little hair. She liked him instantly, teddy and all. He meant well. She wished her mother could see it that way too. But no, she had to listen to her mother complain about how typical it was of him, and how he still thought she was a baby, despite the fact that she had married and born a child.
Now both of them were gone, and she missed them.
They came back after Christmas. Didn�t even wait for New Year�s. Guess her mother preferred to go back to the husband she had left than spend one more minute with her parents. And it�s not like she hated her father. She just didn�t think her mother could be happy with him, not even then. Not even when her best friend cried her eyes out about her parents� divorce. Even then she thought both her parents would be better off if they just split up. But they didn�t. Force of habit, maybe. Only now she understood how scary it could be, embarking on a new adventure, changing your life around.
Her dad did leave at some point. She couldn�t recall if it was just before or just after her mom got sick. Being an only child, she didn�t feel she had much of a choice. She couldn�t give up on college altogether, but her plans of trying to get accepted to a good, out of state college had to wait. And then it became clear that it could never happen. She didn�t say anything to anyone. There wasn�t anyone she could talk to about it, anyway. Most of her friends left town. Only two girls from her high school went on to the same college she did, but they were never her friends. At college she kept to herself. Living at home didn�t help much either. But she wasn�t bitter. There was no point. Some things are just out of anybody�s control.
She opened the side pocket of one of her suitcases. She could swear he was looking at her. Such a nice man. Her mother often warned her about people, especially in big cities. She herself once lived in a big city. That was where she had met her father. People were cold, she said. Looking after themselves, nobody else. But her mother was wrong. There she was, her stomach in knots, not being able to handle the suitcases (as strong as she was after having to carry her mother to the bathroom a few times a day), and out of the blue came her savior. With a smile, he took the suitcases off her hands and carried them right to where she needed them to be.
She smiled back at him. It�d been so long since she last smiled, but she felt like smiling now. His kindness made her heart soar. People in her town were nice, but it was different. It was the fact that he didn�t know her, that she didn�t expect it, which really moved her.
He was a strange man, that she had to admit. After he unloaded her suitcases he looked at her, right in the eye, and said, �Thank you.� She smiled, surprised. �No. Thank you,� she said and gave him her sweetest smile. He kept standing there, looking at her intensely. She waved at him and smiled again, and then hurried to get into line.
She couldn�t resist the temptation to look at her ticket again. JFK. A new life. Her mother was wrong. She did have what it took. She was going to be just fine.
June 18, 2002
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