Tales from Stool 17; Dark Days of Judgment: The Nigel Logan Stories (3)

by Kirk Jockell

  He often tries to secure an emergency exit row seat. Those are perfect. But more times than not, if he is successful at getting one, he becomes annoyed sitting there.

  The emergency exit row seat is reserved for those that can assist in the event of an emergency. Logan fits that description; many that sit there do not. The last time Logan secured an emergency exit row seat, he sat down next to a fat, pudgy teenager wearing headphones. Next to him was his sister; they looked too much alike not to be. Logan shook his head.

  As the rest of the passengers filed in, another large strapping fella inched by. He gave the seats next to Logan a look and grimaced. Nigel knew what was going through his mind. He looked at Logan and shook his head. Then Nigel said, “Don’t worry pal. In a squeeze, Twiddle Dee and Twiddle Dumb here have got your back.”

  He rolled his eyes and continued down the aisle.

  The bottom line is, if airlines were so damned concerned with safety, they would cherry-pick their emergency exit row detail. Those seats should not be for sale on the open market. Once passengers begin to arrive, the flight attendants could identify passengers they would best like to depend upon in an actual emergency. Once the detail is full, the newly available seats can go to those on standby. And there are always folks on standby.

  Nigel had been asleep for close to fifteen minutes. But it only seemed like seconds when he felt the gentle touch of fingers on his shoulder. His eyes focused and found the smiling face of Ms. Barbara. She said, “It’s time, Mr. Logan. We’re about to close the doors.”

  Nigel opened his eyes wide and took a deep breath to help himself wake up. He grabbed his bag and newspaper, stood, and said, “Thank you. And call me Nigel.”

  He ducked his head and stepped aboard the plane. He did his quick glance into the cockpit to look at the instruments. He saw the radar image; rain was coming, lots of it. He strolled into the cabin to find someone sitting in his aisle seat. It was a young man, and he and Logan exchanged glances. The young fella said, “Oh ... This must be your seat. I’m sorry. I was hoping...” The young man was embarrassed and continued. “It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry, let me move to the window.”

  The young guy reached across the aisle and kissed the pretty young lady on the other side and said, “Love you, baby.”

  Logan put his hand on the young guy’s shoulder and said, “Whoa ... y’all flying together?”

  The little gal nodded and said, “Yes. I’m his wife.”

  “Oh hell,” Logan said. “Keep the seat, buddy. I’ll take the window.”

  She grabbed Logan’s hand and said, “Thank you, so much. Flying makes me nervous.”

  Logan gave her a smile and a wink.

  Nigel settled into his big, comfortable seat. All the window shades were pulled down to help keep the cabin cool. A pretty flight attendant asked Nigel if he needed anything. Her nametag said Cindy. Still feeling the warm glow of the two Bloody Marys, he said, “Coffee would be good, extra cream. Thank you, Cindy.”

  Behind Logan and in the aisle seat sat a woman. She was dressed to the nines. Logan caught her wince and turn up her nose as he squeezed by to his window seat wearing a ball cap, a T-shirt from the raw bar, some khaki shorts, and his favorite worn out Sperry Top-Sider boat shoes. She, on the other hand, was dressed to impress. Her hair was done, and her make-up was as perfect as any war paint job Logan had ever seen. She wore a diamond ring on her finger that she liked to wiggle and flash around. She was on the phone. Everyone in the cabin heard one side of the conversation, but it was obvious that she was bitching about nothing important.

  Cindy brought Logan his coffee. As she leaned in to serve him, the princess covered her phone and demanded, “Where is my vodka tonic, dear? I ordered it like hours ago.” As she handed Logan his coffee, he caught her eye and said, “Isn’t she just a darling, Cindy? Perhaps she would be more comfortable in the cargo hold?”

  Cindy snickered as she backed away.

  Logan sipped his coffee. It was good, and he felt its immediate effect as it worked against his earlier cocktails. He sat back and closed his eyes in search of quiet. He didn’t find it. The drama queen was still on the phone. She was throwing her hair dresser under a bus. Nigel turned his head and watched her in hopes that making eye contact would send a silent message. He eavesdropped as he waited.

  “...Yes, girl. That’s what I told her. I said, ‘You cut it too short, dammit. What am I supposed to do with this?’ It looks just hideous, Carol. I’m so glad you’re not here to see it. I don’t know what to do. And the color is just awful. I told her, ‘I’m not paying a dime for this color job. It isn’t anything like I asked for.’ Carol, when I get back, you have to help me find a new girl. You just must.”

  It took her a bit, but she turned her head and caught a glimpse of Logan’s indifferent stare. When she stared back with scrunched eyebrows, Nigel said, “I see what you’re saying. I, personally, would not have left the house. You’re brave going out in public looking like that.”

  Nigel turned his head forward, smiled, and tried his best to ignore the rest of the phone conversation. It was tough, though, especially when he heard her say, “Carol. Did you hear what that man just said to me? O! M! G! I can’t believe it.” She continued to talk into the phone, but she was now speaking to Logan, “You sir are incredibly rude. I can’t believe you would say such a thing.”

  Logan continued to keep his eyes closed, but said, “Believe it, lady. And you’re catching me on a good day.”

  The lady went on talking about Logan, but only for a short while. Cindy came by and told her, “Ma’am, the captain has already announced that all phones and electronic devices must be turned off or placed in airplane mode. Please end the call now.”

  She ended the call and Logan said, “Thank you, Jesus.” He was relaxing, eyes shut, settling in and ready for some peace and quiet. But even after ending the call, she continued to talk. She didn’t seem to be traveling with anyone, so who was she talking to? Logan figured she was annoying the person next to her, but, when he opened his eyes and turned for a look, she was talking to herself as she riffled through her purse.

  Logan shook his head and mumbled, “Son of a bitch,” as he flipped up the window shade. It had started to rain. A huge, black rain cloud had settled above, blocking the sun. He watched as the ground crew worked to load the last of the luggage in the hold. As the luggage vehicle pulled away, he followed it with his eyes. Then he saw something that made him gasp and his body go rigid. He removed his cap.

  Across the tarmac and down on the flight line of the next terminal was a white-hat sailor. He stood at attention with a hand salute drawn tight as the downpour drenched his coat. A container was being unloaded, a fallen shipmate was coming home.

  Logan felt the lunge of his own plane as it began to back away from its gate. As his plane backed away, he could see the shipping container descend from the other aircraft. The container was special, with only one purpose. The U.S. flag was painted on the top and the emblems of each of the services were displayed on the side. He craned his head around so he could continue to see, and when the container was offloaded and placed on a cart, the white-hat sailor dropped his salute. Sailors don’t salute out of uniform, they don’t salute while indoors, and certainly not while uncovered, but Logan didn’t care. He didn’t have to play by those rules anymore. He rendered a salute to the fallen and held it until the container disappeared from sight.

  Logan fell back into his seat and remembered the newspaper article. He pulled it out of the seat pocket and turned to the page. He stared at the picture of Petty Officer Marks, Sissy as she was known by her loved ones. Logan looked out the window, and under his breath said, “Welcome home, Petty Officer Marks.”

  Logan sat back and returned to the article. He tried to re-read it but couldn’t. The princess drama queen was still in full complaint mode. He gave up and tried to block out what was being said behind him. This time she was talking to the person on the other side of the aisle.
She had moved on from her hairdresser; now she was dissing her sister in Newport News. There was obvious disapproval of the sister’s fiancé and how she was about to marry a bum.

  The plane was finishing its taxi out to the runway and started its final turn to begin its takeoff. Logan grabbed the newspaper again and looked at Petty Officer Marks’ face. Then he turned to look at Ms. Bitchy and said, “Hey, you! Lady.”

  She turned her attention toward Nigel, but said nothing.

  “Remember earlier when I said, ‘...you caught me on a good day?’ Well, it just got worse. Would you please do us all a favor and just shut the fuck up!”

  She replied in protest, but as the whine and roar of the engines rushed the plane to speed, her words were drowned out. As the plane started its climb, he heard nothing, but his mind was back on the tarmac. Fair Winds, Sissy.

  In Virginia

  Unlike huge airports like Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson, or Chicago’s O’Hare, the number of people waiting to greet the arrivals of friends, family, and business colleagues at Norfolk International was a small and cozy crowd. They were gathered in small packs here and there.

  You can identify the friends and families waiting for loved ones over those that are there strictly for business reasons. Families look anxious, happy, and excited all at the same time. Their heads are in constant movement as their eyes focus around and past the slow migration of emerging strangers in search of their loved ones.

  Friends, for the most part, would rather be somewhere else. That’s not meant to be mean. It’s just a fact. There is always something better to do than sit around an airport and pick someone up. And, if by chance a flight becomes delayed, it is only by some sense of duty or loyalty that they stick around and surrender more of their time.

  Those picking up business folks are easy enough to spot. They all seem to mill about together in the same general area and position themselves so they are front and center. They hold their little signs and facial expressions to portray a certain we’re more important than the rest of you look.

  As Nigel stepped out of the crowd, he scanned the wide-open space until he saw her. She was off by herself, leaning against the back wall. She had already spotted him, and when their eyes met, Nigel saw her look of worry and concern shift to a welcoming smile. She was gorgeous, but he knew she would be. He took a deep breath and walked over to her. When he got close enough, Sherry Stone took a couple steps forward, slipped her arms around his waist and embraced him in a hug.

  It felt awkward. He stood there as she held on tight. When it was obvious she wasn’t going to loosen her grip, he dropped his large canvas backpack to the floor and wrapped his arms around her. They held each other tight for several beats until she squeezed him hard one last time and loosened her grip. He did the same. Then she leaned in on her tippy-toes and gave him a soft, friendly kiss. He let her. Then he said, “Thanks for agreeing to pick me up.”

  They broke from tight quarters and Nigel picked up his gear.

  “Any checked luggage?” she asked.

  “Nope. This is it.”

  “Well, come on then,” she said. “Follow me.”

  They walked in silence to Sherry’s car, a new model Toyota FJ. She opened the back hatch and Nigel dropped his gear inside. They jumped in the vehicle. The interior still had that showroom aroma. She started the car and asked, “Where to?”

  He changed the subject.

  “There’s something that’s been nagging at me. Why did she call you? Why didn’t she call me first?”

  Stone shut down the vehicle and turned to look at Logan. She took a deep breath, let out a huff, and said, “Don’t take this the wrong way. It’s not a jab, but you haven’t exactly been around the past few years. You up and disappeared.”

  “Only because I thought it best to get out of the picture. I did it for their good, not mine. Do you think I wanted to leave? Up and leave everything behind?”

  “Well, from all appearances, it certainly didn’t take you long to adjust to a new life.”

  “Go straight to hell. You hear me?” Nigel turned his head to look out the passenger-side window. “You have no idea what you are talking about. Those people saved me from myself.”

  “Nigel,” Stone called. “Nigel. Look at me please.”

  He did and waited.

  “I’m sorry. Like I said, ‘Don’t take it the wrong way.’ I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just one of the two facts that answer to your question.”

  Still full of aggravation Logan said, “Yeah ... what’s the other?”

  Stone started the vehicle again. She threw the shifter into reverse, started to back out, but stood on the brakes jerking the vehicle to a stop. She looked forward, out the windshield and said, “When two women are raped by the same man, a special bond and trust is created. A bond you will never understand.” She turned her head to look at Logan and said, “She is scared. She needs you.”

  “Did she ask you to call me?”

  “She didn’t have to. She knew I would.”

  An uncomfortable silence filled the cab. Stone broke the ice-cold quiet by repeating herself. “Where to?”

  “First,” he said. “I need a newspaper. Then take me to the Matthews place. The address is...”

  Throwing a hand up, Stone interrupted, “I know where they live.”

  Not a word was spoken as they left the airport parking lot. They continued to ignore each other until Stone pulled into a convenience store and stopped in front of a couple of newspaper boxes. Nigel got out and Stone watched as Logan inserted the two quarters and opened the box. He shuffled through several pages and pulled out a single sheet from the classifieds. He folded the page, stuffed it in his pocket, and trashed the rest of the paper.

  When he got back to the passenger-side door, he grabbed the door handle and stopped to think. Stone watched him step away and walked around to the driver’s side window. Stone rolled down the window as he approached.

  “Listen,” he started, “if you just want to leave me here, I wouldn’t blame you. I shouldn’t have said what I said. You’re just trying to help. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Emotions are running a little high right now.”

  “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He took her hand through the window. “Truth is ... I will need your help, even if it’s just having your ear.”

  Stone smiled and asked, “Is this where we kiss and make up?”

  She closed her eyes and puckered up. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, at the edge of her lips. Her eyes opened with disappointment. When she looked at him, he lied, “Did I mention that Candice wanted me to say hello?”

  Stone shook her head and said, “Just get in the truck.”

  Stone parked the Toyota on the curb directly across the street from the Matthews place. Logan had to duck down and look at the place from across Stone’s lap. The house looked quiet.

  “Do you think he’s home?” she asked.

  “Yeah, he’s there. That’s his Lexus there backed in the drive. The one with the buggered up right front quarter panel.” Logan laughed to himself. Son of a bitch. The cheap bastard hadn’t fixed that yet.

  “What’s so funny?

  “Ah, nothing. Thanks for the ride. I’ll be in touch.”

  Logan reached for the door handle and Stone reached for his arm.

  “Where’re you planning to stay tonight?” she asked.

  “Don’t know yet. I’ll probably get a room. Charlie will insist I stay here, but I won’t. I don’t think it would be smart.”

  “I think you are right,” she added. “You can stay with me at my place.”

  “I appreciate it, but I don’t think that is a good idea either.”

  “I promise to behave. Promise.”

  “I don’t know...”

  “Well, at least let me know where you end up, so I’ll know how to get in touch with you.”

  Logan leaned over and kissed her again on the cheek and said, “Thank you. Tha
nk you for everything.”

  He pulled a Port St. Joe ballcap and a pair of sunglasses out of his backpack, put them on, and stepped out to the curb. Stone drove away, leaving him to look at the house. He looked both ways and crossed the street. He walked up the front steps and stood quiet at the front door. He tilted his head to bring his ear closer to the door. He could hear Charlie’s wife talking about something. He couldn’t make out what, but it didn’t matter. He was just happy to be this close to his old friends. When he couldn’t stand it anymore, he rang the doorbell.

  Nigel heard Charlie say, “Who is it?”

  Through the door, he heard footsteps approach the door along with an announcement. She said, “Keep your seat, dear. I got it.”

  Nigel watched the doorknob. He saw it turn and the door swung wide open. She had a huge smile on her face when she said, “Yes. May I help you?”

  With the hat pulled down tight, the sunglasses, and the longer hair, it took her a few beats to understand and recognize what she was seeing. Her lips began to tremble and her eyes started to fill with tears. She quickly brought her fingers up to cover her mouth when Nigel said, “Hello, Caroline. It’s been a long time.”

  She said under her breath, “Oh my God. I can’t believe it.” And she rushed to hug him. He dropped his bag and hugged her back. She kept saying, “Oh my God. Oh my God.”

  From somewhere in the house, Nigel heard footsteps and Charlie asking, “What is it, honey? What’s wrong?”

  Charlie entered the foyer to find his crying wife clutched to a man on their front porch. He asked again, “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

  She released Nigel and kissed him on the lips. Then she stepped away, turned toward her husband and said, “Absolutely nothing. Nothing is wrong.”

  At first Charlie stood looking at the stranger before him. He said nothing. Caroline ran to stand beside her husband. Then she hugged him and said, “He’s home.”