Hugs, squeezes and long faces, my Guests left to go home to the cold frozen north.
We watch from behind the glass as they slowly make their way through security. A wave of the cane as they clear, the last Good-bye.
“Just wait until they start in the right direction.” I ask Car-man, he hugs me closer.
They shuffle forward to the bank of screens; upper row “Departures”, lower row “Arrivals”.
“They’re not looking up.”
“They’ll be fine.” Car-man assures me.
We wait anxiously as they sort through all the possibilities, a little pointing, a little shrugging and it’s enough for the Information Attendant to step forward; he’s wearing a cowboy hat.
Things happen quickly; shrugs, hand gestures, pointing, a head shake. The cowboy hatted man waves an electric assistance cart down, tucks FIL into it carefully, eMIL hops lightly in the back. They drive off in the right direction.
“Ahh, good.” Car-man sighs. “See, You worry too much.”
We get a call from them the next morning.
eMIL’s perky and happy, “We made it home OK.”
She’s sounding rather excited, so I ask, “Why wouldn’t you have?”
“We almost stayed another night at your place!” She’s teasing me into the story.
“Turns out, we were waiting at the Arrivals Gate!” The story spills fast. The gist is this; 15 minutes before the plane is scheduled for take-off they sort out that something is amiss, and ask the Gate Attendant that showed up for an arriving plane. The Gate Attendant scans their ticket and leaps into action, calls the departure gate and alerts that Attendant to the two missing passengers then flags down a passing electric assistance cart and instructs the Driver to get them to the departing gate ASAP. They are the last passengers on the plane.
“Quite the adventure.” I comment. OK Car-man, I may worry too much, but I worry about the RIGHT stuff…