1

The time was just after two o’clock, the eleventh of November. The bird was running late due to the heavy storm clouds hovering just outside of La Guardia, threatening snow and the dreaded ice. It never came, though the wind rattled the bird on its mooring, shaking about the passengers inside.

Lawrence Cale made an attempt to mop up the water in his lap after a particularly strong gust, but was having little luck in finding something both dry and disposable. He finally stole two napkins from the passing service cart and cleaned the mess up. His mini trash was already full from his previous thee drinks, so he left the soggy napkins on the tray in front of him.

“Attention passengers: the tower has cleared us for take off. We will be moving to a free pad and leaving for D.C. Dulles airport within five minutes. Please fasten your seatbelts and dispose of all food and drink. Thank you for flying Eastern and enjoy your flight.”

Lawrence rammed the napkins into his neighbors half full trash and folded his tray upright, impatient to be moving. The birds never made much turbulence lifting off, though apparently no one had yet figured out how to move them across the ground without enough jolts to rip the hair from ones scull and send it airborne before the rest of the person.

The sky was still buried behind banks of gray as the bird took to the air, having had no wait time at the pad. The trip to Dulles theoretically should have taken no more than forty minutes, but another weather front caused a easterly diversion adding another half hour to the travel time. Upon arrival they were further delayed by improper customs on the bird ahead of them in the dock. By the time they disembarked two additional hours had been accrued on an otherwise simple flight.

“Please fly with Eastern again,” the voice said as Cale left boarding hall. He threw his remaining drink cup at the speaker and grabbed his bags off the belt. The too chipper voice was always there and always happy, no matter who you flew with.

“Bloody airlines, think they can mess with your schedule all they want.” He stepped outside and hailed a taxi, hoping one of them may actually be able to get him to his destination quicky. The first man who stopped did not speak English and was too slow on the up think. The second was stolen by a mother and a couple of kids, but the third fit his needs. The twelve minute drive to his hotel only took ten and Cale felt that something may actually turn out decent. The feeling lasted as long as the trip from the cab to the reception desk.

“Dr. Cale, there was a call for you that arrived about ten minutes ago. They left a message on your room phone and also asked if we would inform you that your cell is not on.”

“Thank you,” he said, trying not to sound too gruff. It never did any good to get your wait staff upset at you. He rode the elevator to the fifth floor, then took the stairs up two more flights to his room and checked the readout. The door security was fully intact. He keyed the pad, entered the room, cleared the messages, and went to bed.