The Plane - Charlie
Ding.
The seatbelt light turns back on and my nerves and excitement are traveling to my foot. My incessant tapping, I’m sure, is driving the older gentleman next to me insane.
“Nervous for something?” he asks, chuckling.
I look over to him and bite my lip. “Sorry.”
The old man looks like a skinny Santa, with a shorter beard. He smiles at me and says, “It’s fine, sweetheart. Now tell this old man: what’s the matter?”
Santa is trying to comfort me, so I let out a stifled snort. “What isn’t the matter?” I say as I use my fingers to comb my hair.
He looks at me expectantly with his bright green eyes, so I purge everything I got like I’m a little girl reading my wish list to him while sitting on his lap, “I got fired from my job for defending myself against harassment. The same guy who harassed me robbed my apartment then set it on fire. My cats died in the fire, and I lost just about everything I own.” I look out the window of the plane then at him again and say, “Crazy right?”
He shakes his head almost angrily. “I’m very sorry for everything.”
I shrug.
“It is what it is. I decided to spend the rest of the year in Leavenworth,” I say with a smile.
He lets out a little grunt and says, “So why Leavenworth? That’s a long way from home.”
“Well random old man.” He chuckles, and I continue, “This is my favorite time of year. Chicago just didn’t feel like a happy place anymore with everything going on. So I did what anyone else trying to escape does.”
I pause for dramatics and he stares at me with what feels like real anticipation.
“Internet search the name of your crush in hopes you find a nice place to stay and feel close to the crush who doesn’t know you exist,” I ramble out and then quickly cover my face with embarrassment.
He starts laughing, “I like you, sweetheart.”
“Thanks. I’m Charlie by the way,” I say.
“Claus,” he smiles.
I grin holding my laughter. “Nice to meet you Claus. What brings you to Seattle?”
“I live in Leavenworth,”—he chuckles—“with my wife.”
My mouth parts in clear shock. What are the odds skinny Santa and I are headed to the same place? “Oh, that’s lovely. Are you from here?”
He smiles and says, “I am. My wife and I lived in Chicago for over 40 years and retired here a few years ago.”
As the plane lands the captain says, “Welcome to SeaTac, and Happy Holidays.”
“Well Charlie, how are you getting to Leavenworth?” he asks.
I smile and say, “I have a car waiting for me, or I should.”
“Well, Leavenworth is a small town, so I’m sure I’ll see you again,” he says. He smiles wide at me and I blush.
The seatbelt sign goes off. He gets up first and pulls down both of our bags.
“Thank you,” I say as I stand up and take my bag from him. “I’m staying at the Neumann Haus. Have you heard of them?”
He gives a loud joyful yet amused laugh and begins to walk out of the plane.
I follow along and question, “What?”
“Come on, I’ll walk you to the car port. Mine’s there too,” he says with a big smile.
We walk together and I am staring in awe at the beauty of Seattle. I’ve always wanted to visit but never got the chance.
“What do you do for a living?” he asks while we walk together.
“I’m an attorney, or I was an attorney,” I say. Hearing it aloud makes me feel like I’ve lost something I can’t get back.
“You’re still an attorney,” he says with a chuckle.
“Yeah, one without a job.” I sigh.
Before he can answer, a man comes up to him and says, “Mr.—”
Claus puts his hand up to interrupt the man and the sweet nice old Santa man who has transformed into a direct, serious Santa, says, “Joseph, please take my bags.”
“Of course sir,” Joseph replies and follows along.
Claus’ phone rings and he answers, “Gattin. I was just about to call you. Hold on a moment, love.” He smiles at me and says, “Well, Charlie, it’s been a pleasure and I will see you soon.” He waves before getting into the waiting door.
“Bye Claus.” I reply, but he’s gone so instead I wave. I look around for my driver holding my name card. I find another old man, this one holding a ‘Miranda C’ sign. “I’m Charlie Miranda,” I say.
“Hello ma’am, let me take your bag,” he says, taking it from my hand.
“Thank you,” I reply, getting into the waiting town car.
Once we are both in the vehicle, he looks through the rearview and says, “We should be there in about three hours, ma’am.”
“Perfect,” I say before looking at my phone.
Me: I made it.
Dev: Good. When will you be back?
Me: The weekend after new years.
Dev: We’ll miss you.
Me: Right. You will be having a great time without me. I don’t exist, remember.
Dev: But you can exist if you really wanted to. You know what you would need to do.
Me: I’m good.
Dev: I know, enjoy sissy.
Me: Thanks.
After my back and forth with my brother, I look at different job openings for corporate lawyers.
Eventually, I look out the window and enjoy the view. As the city of Seattle is left on the horizon, the snowy mountains rise in front of us.
It’s amazingly beautiful. The anger and sadness I’ve been feeling slowly sway away, and I can’t stop staring.
After what feels like a few hours of watching the mountains in a trance, the driver says, “We’re here ma’am.”
I look up at the huge cabin in awe, especially with the surrounding snowy white pristine pine trees framing it. When the driver opens the door, the smell is exactly how I would expect it to be: Christmas, it smells like straight Christmas.
As he pulls my bag out of the trunk, I stare at the mountains.
God it’s beautiful. So beautiful. My chest pangs in pain and my eyes blur while I stare at the white pillowy snow.
Snow here is perfect. Not covered and smeared with layers of whatever foul chemicals and oil city traffic leaves behind.
A small tear begins to run down my cheek and a familiar voice calls out, “Charlie.”
I turn around and gasp.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I turn and clear my tears. “I’m fine, what are you doing here?” I say turning back towards him.
He extends his hand and says, “Fate.” His smile is wide and triumphant, as he reveals, “Welcome to Neumann Haus. I’m Claus, Claus Neumann.”
I laugh, while I extend my hand to his, and shake it. Who would have thought. Maybe, just maybe this means something.
Maybe it’s coincidence or maybe it’s fate.
It’s magical.
