As Jim neared his destination, he looked out of the window of Flight 712 and recognized the landmarks of the Kansas City International Airport, and the black ribbon of the Missouri River winding through lights of the Kansas City Metropolitan area. He enjoyed flying as part of his job with the “Firm” and knew that he would miss it.
The flight had been almost normal, with the exception of the crying baby most of the way from Chicago. Someone had said that the altitude caused an earache in the little guy, and Jim wondered why a parent would inflict that kind of pain on their child as well as the other passengers in the plane. Oh well, just a few more minutes and this flight, like so many others, would be history.
He preferred getting a seat by the window so that he could avoid getting trampled as people rushed toward the exit doors once the seat belt signs were turned off. He was always amused watching passengers jump out of their seats, stand hunched over in front of their seats, until they could grab their carry-on bags from the overhead bins, and wait in line until it was their turn to exit down the aisle. He sat comfortably in his seat wondering about the sense of urgency of the departing passengers. Were they hurrying to an event or trying to escape from something? The crying baby had gone, so he wasn’t in any rush for the last leg of his journey home. This was the last flight of the evening, and the attendants, although tired, were graciously wishing everyone a pleasant evening.
Finally, he could depart, and he made his way down to the baggage claim area, hoping to miss the mob of desperate passengers grabbing their bags and running out of the door. There were a few bags left on the conveyors moving through the area, but his wasn’t one of them. He waited for a few minutes watching the luggage come and go on their journey and come again until he
decided that he should go down to the lost and found area to see if it had ended up there.
He rounded the corner just in time to see the attendant start to lock the door. He called out to wait and the man smiled at him and asked, “You missing something?” Jim hurried down the hall and was ushered into a small, windowless room with several pieces of luggage on the floor, but unfortunately none were his.
He filled out a claim form with a description of his piece and its contents then apologized to the attendant for making him wait. Bill, as the name badge read, said that it was not a problem. He said to check back in a day or so, because sometimes bags get on the wrong plane, but usually end up where they belong.
Jim thanked him again and went out to the long term parking lot, hoping to find his car. It was there right where he had left it. The wind had started to blow very strong from the north and Jim figured that it would provide a nice tailwind for the rest of the way home. He pulled into his driveway, opened the garage door and drove in, closing it behind him. He waited just a minute, bracing himself for the warm, loving greeting that would not be there.
Jim wasn’t worried about the lost luggage; everything inside could be replaced easily and the piece itself was pretty battered up from extensive use. Besides, he had only one more trip planned for the ‘Firm’before his ‘retirement’. Thinking about that soured his mood. He had given almost 40 years of loyal and successful service; he had received awards and solved cases that no one else could. And just because his birthday came around, he was deemed to be “used up” or something, and had to leave, with a gold watch and ‘there’s the door’.
He went inside and on the kitchen counter found a plate of homemade gingersnap cookies and a note that read, “Welcome home. You were missed, Charlie.” Smiling, he ate two cookies and turned off the light and headed up to bed, feeling his age.
