Midnight Flight

The story began with a midnight flight to New York. Landing early in the morning, tired, sweated, and nervous, we came out of the plane and began walking in a long corridor with a crowd of people. A big black attendant: Go here, go there. Arriving at a huge hall: passport control, a long line of checkpoints and a long line of people in front of them. We chose a shorter line.

In such cases, the lines at the right and left advance faster. Not this time. The right line moved faster, but that on the left did not advance. Why? A family from Georgia arrived at the check stand. Parents, five children and two grandmothers. There is strong debate between them and the examiner. They do not understand English, and he does not understand them.

A young woman standing at the head of the line began to show signs of uneasiness. At some moment, she could not hold it and asked the man at the head of our line to let her go before him; there is no time left for her, and she might miss her continuation flight. She spoke English, but from her first word, it was clear that she was an Israeli. My flight partner, who is naturally hot tempered, and in addition to that, both of us are tired and nervous from the flight, began to get off on her:

“What do you think for yourself? We also hurry, we also have a continuation flight, we also might miss it.”

She heard it like this, became dumb, and no longer moved.

Still behind the line we advanced slowly, but finally came to the line head. I turned my head, caught the look of the young woman, and marked with my hand, come, come here. She looked at me with disgust: What do you want from me? I marked again, come on, come on. I saw her hesitating, probably she calculated and decided what could happen? and moved near to me. When she was nearby, I changed my hand movement and marked her: Go, go, in the direction of the check stand. Now, she has understood and gone there.

When all of it happened, I suddenly heard from around, he is talking to you, he is talking to you. Who is talking to me? The policeman in the stand. I turned my head to him and saw that he was really talking to me with movements, in the international language. What are you doing a mess here? You will not enter this state. I tried to reply in the same language, what happened? what have I did? However, after a moment, it turned out that all he wanted to know was if we were together. Yes, we are together, and we joined her at the stand. The policeman took our passports, flipped through the pages, and stamped them with stamps. After half a minute, he returned them, and we entered inside.

The young woman said that she was in the states for the first time. Where to take the luggage? We are people of the world; knowing to take luggage. Well, come with us. Going to the conveyer, we waited and talked a little until luggage came. Now we have to move terminal to the continuation flight. Which terminal do you need? We too. Coming out of the building to a loop road, we got on a bus that ran between the terminals and took us the continuation flight terminal. The place was nearly empty, and we immediately gave our luggage. We were on the same flight.

Suddenly, there was a lot of time until the flight; we were not late and did not miss anything. There was a small coffee shop on the side, and we entered and ordered coffee. I have decided to improve the situation. How to improve? To shave. I always carry with me shaving tools, and I went to the bathroom.

Until I came back the friend already knew all about her. She started to work in a new place, the local branch of a big international company, and the company sent her to a short training in its center in Silicon Valley. We are going to a conference in San Francisco. Today is Friday and nothing will happen until Monday morning. She told us that she had received a rented car for the entire period, and the friend said:

“Great, come to us and we will travel together in San Francisco”

Time for boarding. The plane was nearly empty, and each of us had a place near a window. Usually, two minutes after take-off, the plane passes above the clouds and there is nothing to see anymore. However, this time it was a beautiful day all over the United States, and the look from the window helped pass the hours. After landing at the airport, about half the way between the town and Silicon Valley, we exchanged telephone numbers and separated from her. Before getting on the bus, from a distance, we saw that someone came to collect her. On the way, I told the friend that surely, we would not see her anymore. Since we were a little bit short of money, we shared a single room in the hotel. A rented car was out of question. After receiving the room, we organized our clothes and washed ourselves slightly. The friend, whose finger is light on the dial, called our new friend.

Yes, she received a nice room and all is well.

“Would you like to travel around with us tomorrow?” Of course, she would.

“Good, come tomorrow eight in the morning at the hotel entrance.”

Tomorrow, at eight sharp, she was at the hotel entrance with a rented car. Joining her, we began the way. In favor of the friend, he is familiar with the city and knows where to travel.

First we drove to Lombard-street, which is twisting forward and backward downhill. Sometimes it is observed in movies. Arriving at the top of the hill we drove the twists down. Like little children who go up and down in moving stairs, we made a long round loop to the hill top and repeatedly drove down. Then, we continued to the lighthouse overlooking the bay and arrived at the Golden Gate Bridge. After stopping and walking in a park near the bridge entrance, we stepped on it, crossed it, and drove to a small tourist town on the other side. Then after walking slightly between shops we continued to the redwood park. This park is a forest reserve of tall trees with thick trunks colored brown red. The air is full of a fresh smell of soil and humidity, and our friend identifies some ferns that also grow on our land.

The time has passed and now is noon. Crossing the bridge back into the town we drove to the Japanese museum. There is a pool of water in the garden and a young woman who dived to its bottom, collected some pearls and gave us.

Beginning to think where our friend would sleep at night, she had an uncle in town and she would sleep there. She gave us the address, and we, well-known navigators, drove straight, right and left, and right again and arrived.

A small wood surrounded by a fence had a gate in the middle. Pushing of the bell showed no response. We pushed the lock, and it was open. After crossing the wood, a house appeared. Again, a bell at the door but no response. Walking around the house, all the shutters were closed and not a living soul around. What to do?

“Well, come with us to the hotel and we will find something.”

Up in our room in the hotel, we sat to have a little rest. During the day, I became a little familiar with our friend, and I thought that if we offered her to stay with us, she would not refuse. Clearly, there will not be any orgy, but she seems to have such a nature that wherever she is put, she will sleep there. I tried to think about what to say, but before I could utter a word, the friend said:

“Go down to the lobby and ask if there is still a vacant room.”

She went down and returned after two minutes, rented a room.

After about one hour we met and went for dinner.

In the evening, we walked downtown around many Chinese restaurants, eventually choosing a restaurant that looked authentic. There are no seats and people sit on mats on the floor, but for more convenience, there are holes for the legs. After enjoying the meal, and walking around slightly more we returned to the hotel.

Tomorrow morning, Sunday, deciding that we saw the town enough, and today we will drive farther away. Starting toward the south, the road goes between sandstone hills and bays along the beach. Single people are seen here and there. The landscape has changed to a farming area, cultivated fields, and mountains at a distance. Reminds the Carmel beach in our country. Near the beach again, we arrived at a large reserve of water birds. Driving between shallow lagoons our friend identified some of the birds.

Arriving in the ocean, there was a line of rocks across the beach, and many suntanning water dogs, lying on the rocks, looked on us curiously. The road then led to a small tourist town and its name, how not surprising, Carmel. Walking here and there, now is noon already, the time to return. We meant to drive by another way, to cross the mountain chain towards Silicon Valley, and then back north.

The road led through a forest, and the forest is like in America: Tall trees, thick brown trunk and shiny leaves. The air is fresh and wet. Stopping at a restaurant in a wood clearing, we came in, and a waitress led us to a table. There is a dance floor in front of the tables, and many couples dance American folk dances to the tunes of an orchestra. The men are all in flannel shirts, jeans trousers, and cowboys’ boots. The women were in flowery dresses. The food is Mexican. We could have stayed there for a long time, pleasure to the eyes and palate, but were obliged to continue. The road led us to the small town of our friend, and we stopped at her hotel for a short rest.

When sitting in her room, I scratched my head and said,

“Look, go down to the lobby and ask, maybe there is a bus or a train that go to San-Francisco, then you will not have to take us back to our hotel.”

She went down, came back after a minute, and I saw on her face that a stone had dropped off her heart. Not a stone, large rock. A train will go out within an hour. It is not in her head to drive hundred miles one way, and then all the way back, only for getting two oldish men to their hotel.

In the lobby, there are two tables and a few chairs, and it is possible to order coffee. Chatting a little, our friend asked if she owed us money for travel expenses. I tried to say something like forget it, but wasn’t quick enough. The friend took out a chart of a cash register where he wrote all the small expanses on the back, summed them up quickly, divided by three, and said: twelve dollars and thirty cents. I wanted to bury myself.

The time has come, and she drove us to the train station in five minutes. Although knowing each other for only two days, we became slightly excited. Saying goodbye, and separating from her, we went on to the train. I have no longer seen her since then.

After about a month and a half in my country, I met a friend who worked at the same company. I asked if she knew our friend. Yes, Shure; they are good friends, and our friend gets married in two weeks.

“Well, give her my regards.”

Lombard Street in San-Francisco:
http://vignette3.wikia.nocookie.net/travel/images/3/3e/Lombard_Street-_San_Francisco%2C_CA.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20120514014459&path-prefix=en