As he approached the airport, Samuel wondered how easy it would be for him to just board a flight to Hawaii now and go join his sister. A part of him longed to do it, to give up everything that he had worked for on Wall Street and try to find his free spirit. It was a pleasant pipe dream, but it was nothing more than that. Especially not now. The sky was barren above him, no white lines left from flight paths, everything now grounded until further notice.
The atmosphere very quickly changed as he walked into the airport. There was a buzz in the air from conversation, while several men and women in uniform walked around trying to maintain the peace. In other areas, people shouted and argued, the sound of a man demanding to board a flight and be taken back home echoing through the large lobby. He spoke with an English accent, clearly a vacationer from across the pond who had now found himself stranded in a foreign country.
Samuel shook his head. Air travel was not something that would be happening for some time. Plane fuel was an increasingly expensive commodity these days. With all the campaigns and protests that went on globally about the damage that flying was doing to the climate, the prices went up and up each year. The cost of just a standard seat on a plane was already triple what it had been five years ago, inflation hitting the travel industry hard.
That was just one of the many things that was going to change, and fast. Samuel thought of all the food that was imported into the country by air travel. With those planes now grounded, food resources would become increasingly scarce and limited. What food did the United States even produce themselves anymore? Samuel grimaced at the thought of weeks spent eating only tomato and pumpkin. At least cattle farms were plentiful around the States, but then resources would be required to maintain them as well. It almost hurt Samuel’s head to consider everything what would be affected, more and more factors adding up every time he thought about it.
“Excuse me, sir?” A woman in a steward’s uniform carrying a clipboard appeared in front of Samuel. “Could you tell me which flight you were waiting for please?”
“Sorry?” Samuel questioned, hearing what the woman had said but not expecting that sort of orderly question or quite sure how to respond.
“What flight were you hoping to board, sir?” The woman asked again, “I need to take down details of all grounded passengers.”
“Oh, I wasn’t due to be on any flight,” Samuel finally answered. “Sorry.”
“Had you just landed then?” The steward continued to question him. “Can I take your name?”
“No, I’m sorry,” Samuel apologised again. “I haven’t been flying at all. I just arrived at the airport about ten minutes ago. I’ve come from the city.”
“You’ve just got here?”
“Yes,” Samuel nodded. The woman looked confused and he felt guilty for complicating matters. She was only trying to do her job and he was making her life harder for no real reason other than his curiosity.
“Do you have family here that have been grounded?”
“No,” Samuel was feeling increasingly embarrassed by the conversation, wishing he had never come to the airport. “I’m on my way to see my parents in Freeport. I was just passing through. I thought I might be able to hire a car or something from here. Do you know if anything like that is available?”
The woman furrowed her brow. “We’re organising a shuttle bus to take grounded passengers back into the city or to a place of safety. Beyond that I’m not sure.”
“A shuttle bus? Incredible. Thank you, and sorry I’ve wasted your time.”
“No problem.”
Glancing around the lobby with a bit more intent now, Samuel saw several groups of people being shepherded towards one of the exits. In some cases, people were pushing and shoving to reach the front of the group, clearly desperate to get back to their families and homes. Samuel started walking briskly in their direction, keen to reach his parents as quickly as possible.
“Excuse me?” He asked another woman in a stewarding outfit who was ushering people out of the building, doing her best to control the crowds that flocked toward her. “Can you tell me if there’s a shuttle going in the direction of Freeport?”
“Where?” The woman asked without giving Samuel her full attention. Her accent immediately gave away the fact that she wasn’t an American, but rather someone from Europe – perhaps France or Belgium.
“Freeport,” Samuel repeated. “It’s further east on Long Island?”
“There is one shuttle going away from the city,” the woman replied after a quick glance at her clipboard. “Over there.” She pointed in the direction of another group of people, once again jostling for a place at the front of the group escorted by women in similar uniforms.
“Thank you,” Samuel grinned, already darting off in the direction she had pointed. “Is this the shuttle over the island?” He asked as he reached the intended group, placing a hand on a steward’s shoulder in order to pull her attention away from the rowdy group.
“It is,” the woman replied. “Are you my last passenger?” She looked down at a printed list on a clipboard in her right hand. “Anthony Calvert-Lewin?”
Samuel paused for a moment, considering what the woman had just asked him. Looking at the bus just off to the right, he realized that it was already full of passengers, those remaining outside all trying to board but being held back by stewards and security workers alike. The truth quickly fell into place that there wasn’t enough room on all the buses for everyone in the airport. Everything was operating on limited resources and this wasn’t any exception.
Samuel had
