The Dumnonian Hoard: Rosenberg Twins Adventure #1

Home > Other > The Dumnonian Hoard: Rosenberg Twins Adventure #1 > Page 10
The Dumnonian Hoard: Rosenberg Twins Adventure #1 Page 10

by Adrien Leduc


  * * *

  Much later, I’m awakened by a stunning sunrise. The whole inside of the plane is lit up by its bright rays and I’m practically blinded when I dare to take a peek out the window.

  The breakfast cart is coming around and our flight attendant is busy handing out cups of coffee.

  “Sleep well?” asks Uncle Marty upon seeing I’m awake.

  I nod, yawning and stretching my arms above me. My arms knock into Troy.

  “Oops...sorry.”

  I look at him and I can tell he’s still mad at me.

  I’m not sure why he’s mad at me. I didn’t really do anything except casually let our flight attendant know he’s got a girlfriend.

  His girlfriend would be thankful at least.

  I return my attention to Uncle Marty. “Yeah, I did actually. And I usually have trouble sleeping on planes. But I actually had a good sleep...did you sleep at all?”

  He yawns and covers his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yes...I got...a few...hours. Ahhhh!”

  I laugh. “That was the biggest yawn I’ve ever seen.” In the aisle across, I see Mika and Ludwig, fast asleep, matching blue eye masks strapped to their faces.

  Uncle Marty smiles and massages his brow, coaxing the sleep from his face. “Well, we’ve got quite the day ahead of us so I’m glad I was able to catch a few winks.”

  “How long until we get there?” asks Josh.

  “Vee are landing in forty five minutes,” comes a throaty purring voice from across the aisle.

  Mika’s got her mask off now and still looks as good as she did the night before.

  “Forty five minutes?” asks Uncle Marty, turning in his seat. “Is that all?”

  She glances at her watch, “ja...”, and then turns and shakes Ludwig so that he removes his mask. “Ludwig, ...”

  And the rest of what she says is in German.

  Ludwig nods and consults his watch as he answers in German.

  “Yes, about forty five minutes,” says Mika, returning her attention to us.

  I still can’t believe she looks as good as she does when she first wakes up. European women...you just can’t beat ‘em when it comes to looking good...

  I feel Troy move beside me and turn to see what he’s doing. He’s bent over his bag, rummaging for something, and after a second comes up with his laptop.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  He nods. “Yeah. You?”

  I smile. At least he’s talking to me again. “Yeah, I did.”

  I look at my brother. “Did you get any sleep or were you playing video games all night?”

  “I slept...a bit.”

  Judging by the grey bags under his eyes I’m quite certain that “a bit” means about fifteen minutes.

  “Well, just make sure you can keep up with us. Because - ”

  I stop short. There’s a man staring at me. He’s standing in the aisle, about ten rows ahead, and looking directly at me. Bald, with cold blue eyes and a scar that runs from his eye to his chin, his gaze sends a chill down my spine.

  “Ahhh.”

  “What’s the matter?” asks Uncle Marty.

  “That man - ” I point, but he’s turned away now and headed for the front of the plane, around the centre wall so that I can’t see him anymore.

  “What man?”

  “The...the...the bald man.” I can hardly speak I’m shaking so much. “That man up there. He had this ugly scar on his face...”

  “I’m sorry, Sarah...” Uncle Marty climbs halfway out of his seat so that he’s standing. “Which man? I see a lot of men.”

  “Gah! The man. He was just there!”

  “What happened? Is there a man bothering you?”

  It’s Mika talking now and, judging by her expression, she seems genuinely concerned.

  I shake my head. “No...he was just...looking at me.”

  Mika shakes her head and says what I think are not very nice words in German.

  “You tell zee flight attendant that another passenger is giving you trouble.”

  “No...it’s...it’s fine.”

  I don’t like that I seem to be creating a scene. And now Troy and Josh are looking at me too.

  “It’s alright - ”

  “Here, here she is,” says Mika, reaching her arm out and touching the flight attendant. “Excuse me.”

  The flight attendant, one hand on the coffee cart, turns to face us. “Yes?”

  Mika looks at me. “Tell her. Tell her about zee man.”

  The flight attendant looks at me and I stare back at her, feeling helpless and completely awkward. “I don’t know! There was this man...and he was staring at me...”

  I can tell by her expression, she thinks I’m crazy.

  “I’m not crazy.”

  “I’m sorry...but...I don’t quite understand. You say there was a man staring at you?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  She seems to be pondering something.

  “What did he look like?” asks Mika. “Tell her what he looks like and maybe she knows vair he is sitting.”

  I look at her. “He was bald.” I switch my gaze to Uncle Marty. “And he had these cold blue eyes.” I look at the flight attendant. “And he had a scar on his face. A really ugly scar.”

  The flight attendant purses her lips and I can tell I’m getting nowhere.

  “Whatever...”

  “I’m sorry,” she says finally, “I’d like to help...but I just...I’m not sure what I can do. Are you sure he was staring at you and not someone behind you maybe?”

  “He was staring at me,” I say thickly, feeling annoyed by the dozens of eyes on me.

  “It’s not a crime to stare at someone...” Uncle Marty muses aloud. “Rude, yes, but a crime, no. Was his stare...inappropriate in nature?”

  I shake my head. “No. It was just...it was creepy.”

  They’re all quiet now - even the rows of people behind us and in front of us (they probably all think I’m crazy...) - and I wish we could hurry up and land already.

  As though on command, there’s a DING and a voice sounds on over the intercom. “Good morning, folks. We’re about to begin our descent into Paris. If you could please stow your tray tables away and return your seats to an upright position. The seatbelt sign will be coming on shortly so do use the bathroom now if you need. A reminder that all carry on luggage is to be stowed properly under seats or in overhead compartments. (There’s a lot of scrambling now - the clicking of seat belts, conversations between parents over little Timmy or Suzie’s diaper bag, and the sounds of overhead compartments being open and closed.) We’ll be coming around to collect anymore garbage. Thank you for choosing Canada Air and we hope you enjoy your stay in Paris.”

  There’s another DING and then the intercom goes silent

  The flight attendant shrugs. “We have to prepare for landing now...can you make sure your tray tables are all stowed away and - ”

  “So, wait. You’re not going to do anything about this guy that was staring at Sarah?” asks Troy.

  I look at him, surprised he’d come to my defense. The flight attendant seems equally surprised.

  “Um...well...I really don’t know what we can do...” she smiles, a helpless, ‘I’m just a girl’ kind of smile.

  Troy shakes his head. “That’s disappointing.”

  Now, instead of look helpless, she looks annoyed.

  Uh oh.

  “You’re welcome to fill out a complaint form if you’d like. I’ll bring you one. I really don’t know why this is a problem.”

  “I think we’re alright,” says Uncle Marty gingerly, touching her arm. “Thanks.”

  Uncle Marty’s calm demeanor seems to remind the flight attendant who she is and where she is and she suddenly looks embarrassed.

  “Alright...”

  And with that she takes the cart and heads up the aisle, the trash bag, half filled with Styrofoam cups, knocking against the backs of seats as she goes.

  “Well, that v
as...” Mika shakes her head and mutters something in German.

  Uncle Marty makes a face. “Anyway, let’s not let that spoil the day.” He touches my shoulder. “You alright?”

  I nod, keenly aware of their eyes on my once more. “Yeah...I’m fine.”

  “Good. Good, good, good.” Uncle Marty says cheerily, stretching his arms above his head.

  The seat belt sign comes on (“DING”) and up ahead I see a flight attendant asking a passenger to take his seat.

  Uncle Marty returns his tray table to its upright position and slaps his knees. “Well...the journey begins.”

  I nod, craning my neck so I can see past Mika and Ludwig and out the window. We seem to be right smack dab in the middle of the clouds.

  “So? Vat are you guys going to do in Paris?” asks Mika from across the aisle as she fixes her make-up with the help of a small brush and a cosmetic mirror.

  Uncle Marty stretches once more, groaning and yawning before providing an answer. “We’ve actually got another plane to catch.”

  “Oh? You are not staying in Paris?”

  “Nope. We are continuing on.”

  “Vair are you going?”

  “We’re off to the northwest part of the country. Brittany province.”

  “And vat is zair? Do you have family zair?”

  Uncle Marty chuckles. “No...heavens no. I think I’ve had about all the family I can take for this trip.”

  Mika smiles as though she finds my uncle amusing. “Family can be difficult.”

  “Yes it can.”

  “Are you talking about me and Josh?” I ask, feeling slightly offended.

  “I sure am.”

  “Ah!” I slap my uncle’s arm.

  “You two need to learn to get along.”

  “So you keep saying...” I mutter.

  “One day you will appreciate your brother,” comes Mika’s throaty purr.

  “Ha! Maybe in a hundred years.”

  Mika looks doubtful. “Probably sooner.”

  “Uh, do you know my brother!? Do you know how annoying he is!?”

  “Hey!” cries Josh.

  I turn and look at my brother. “I’m just saying...sheesh.”

  “Well, you’re pretty annoying too.”

  “I’ll take the pretty. The annoying, that’s not even true.”

  My brother glares at me and returns to his video game as Uncle Marty groans loudly. “You see what I have to put up with, Mika?”

  Mika laughs. “I see exactly vat you have to put up with, Martin!”

 

‹ Prev