On A Flight To…
By: Robert Bush
Tags: Short Story, Satire, Romance, Travel, Humor

On A Flight To…

Part 2

Photo by Gerold Hinzen on Unsplash

And then…

I stood and thought about it for a while; I was in a situation no sensible person should really find themselves in, but whoever said you had to be sensible?

It actually amused me; I liked the uncertainty of it. I know to some people this will sound bonkers, but when you’re in unique, awkward situations it heightens feelings, experiences seem extra nuanced, and you’re really living.

And there is always a way out, there has to be.

After a while standing in this unfriendly car park a thought emerged; I knew someone in England who knew someone who had gone to Florida to live with his American girlfriend and to try and set up a business. I had never met this guy and I had no idea which part of Florida he was living in but I remembered his name.

I found a phone box and dialled directory enquiries and apparently there was someone with that name living in the Palm Beach area.

I had no money and I asked to be put through to the number and to ask them to accept reverse charges. I was really risking it here, but so what; I didn’t have any other choice.

She asked what name to give and I gave her my name but told her that wouldn’t be enough as the guy had probably never heard of me, but to say that I was from England and we had a mutual friend.

To my surprise, he answered and took the call. I explained about our mutual friend and that I was in a bit of a jam at the airport.

‘Hold on’ he said, ‘wait there, I’ll be with you in 20 minutes.’

I walked into the airport and found the office of the car rental company and strolled up nonchalantly and dumped the keys on the counter and turned and walked away.

A girl called after me, and I answered that the car was in the car park and just kept walking. I honestly expected to feel a hand on my shoulder as I walked out of the airport but there was nothing, and I was free.

Michael picked me and I was surprised to find his American girlfriend in the car too, plus a load of suitcases.

He explained — they had an apartment in Palm Beach but they had agreed to house-sit for someone’s massive house on a sports estate in Boca Raton, and they were on their way there now. Apparently there was a mass of space, loads of bedrooms, and I was welcome to join them.

Result, once again.

Apparently they were just walking out of the door of their apartment when I rang and so if I’d been a minute later I would have missed them and this story would have taken an entirely different turn at this point.

We drove through a new estate with a golf course and tennis courts all surrounded by these huge houses, all with pools, and we found the house and it was magnificent.

I sat on the bed in my room and smiled to myself. How things can change.

And then began a great week of fun. I really wasn’t into drugs, I’d sampled dope a couple of times while I was at college but I was never that interested, but the stuff they had was different, it just made you laugh.

It was all tiny bits of twig and leaf and they kept it in a circular film canister in the fridge and every day in the early evening they would fish it out and then would follow an hour or so of manic laughter, it was just great.

They were a fairly new couple and although they made me completely welcome, I went out a fair bit to give them some space and I discovered the Wildflower which was brilliant, plus a few other places.

Everyone thought I was Australian at first, but when they discovered I was English it was like some sort of weird social passport had been granted to me, and before I was really aware of what was going on I had made friends, there were people I knew, people spoke to me like we’d known each other for years, and there were girls too. Nope, I’m saying nothing more about that, don’t ask.

Michael had lent me some money to keep me going and I had phoned a friend of mine in England and he sent me some money to a bank in Boca Raton and after a week it arrived.

I spent a day in Fort Lauderdale and discovered something I didn’t know existed — there were agencies where you go to get a car that you would drive to some place, and you get paid to do it.

That night I took Michael and Mary Lou out for a top dinner to thank them for being so kind to me and the following day I found myself driving out of Fort Lauderdale in some guy’s car en route to San Francisco.

It took about a day to get out of Florida and then I turned left on route 10 and through Tallahassee and Mobile and finally reached New Orleans and there I walked into a bar on Bourbon Street and fell hopelessly in love.

Her name was Sally Townes and she was playing in the bar and if you put her name into Spotify and select Walk Away With The Blues you’ll see.

She was playing the piano and singing and you know how sometimes music creates a connection that’s impossible to put into words, you just feel it, and I came in the door and she looked up and I listened to her sing and looked into her eyes and that was it.

As I think about it now it still brings huge emotion to me, it was one those moments in life that never leaves you and I’m still partly in that moment even all these years later.

We spoke during the interval and after her set she invited me to join her and a bunch of others who had heard of a new band playing somewhere in New Orleans and they were going to see them. And after that we went to see another band, and then another.

Everyone in New Orleans knew Sally and we were welcomed into every place we went and finally a wonderful, magical night ended as I fell onto the bed in my hotel room at around nine the following morning.

And then I was arrested in Texas…