Fortunately our return flights were as smooth and uneventful as the flights down had been. Kyle, of course, absolutely loved the experience. When we got home, he was ready to plan at least seventeen new trips to take us all around the world—all by air.
“Babe! You’re gonna bankrupt me!” I complained good-naturedly.
“Consider it an advance on your days as the husband of a high-earning New York City doctor.”
“Yeah, but who’s gonna advance me the cash to cover all this?”
“Hmmmm,” he muttered. “Foiled by reality yet again.”
“Don’t worry, babe, we’re gonna get you on another airplane in just a few weeks when we go to Hawaii.”
“Love you, Jo-Jo.”
“You too.”
Chapter 20
THE first Saturday in December, we were out of bed early. Really early. Super early. We had packed our bags the night before to be ready to just get up, shower, and go in the morning. We needn’t have set an alarm, because Kyle was so excited that he was awake before the alarm even sounded.
Earlier, when I had been searching for flights, I had not been able to find a flight that went all the way from New York to Hawaii, but I had found the next best thing—a flight from Chicago that went nonstop to Honolulu—so I had booked us onto that flight. But to get to Chicago in time to catch our nonstop to Hawaii required an early departure, this time out of LaGuardia.
Since travel was all so new to Kyle, he was delighted to see yet another airport, even though I had been through there hundreds of times. I was quietly frustrated by the slowness of the entire process. Since 9/11 all airports had ramped up security. The sad thing was that I had little faith in those added efforts making any real difference.
When we finally had been scanned and X-rayed and frisked, we were able to proceed to the gate. The flight was an earlier one, and it was a Saturday, so neither of us felt able to predict if the flight would be crowded or not. It turned out to be rather full. I guess a lot more people wanted to travel first thing in the morning than seemed possible. I hoped they all weren’t headed to Hawaii.
Once again I had bought first-class seats, which on the first plane were fine. Once we were airborne, our flight attendants served a simple snack, which both of us ate with relish since there hadn’t been time to eat at home before leaving for the airport. While Kyle watched out the window as we flew over increasingly flat land, I read and dozed lightly.
Approach and landing in Chicago were very straightforward, and in no time our plane was parked at the gate. We grabbed our carry-on bags and went in search of our next gate. Our time in Chicago was brief. The gate turned out to be a substantial hike away from where we had landed. By the time we got to the gate for that flight, the gate attendants were starting to announce the boarding process.
Since we were again in first class, we were some of the first to go on board the plane. As we walked through the door of the plane, I loved the telling look on Kyle’s face when he noticed that this plane was bigger. Not only was this plane bigger, it was huge!
Turning to me, he whispered, “This is bigger than the last one.”
“Oh, yeah, it’s a big one. Boeing 777. Seats several hundred people and can fly long distances without stopping. Consider how far we’re going in this next leg—more than eight hours in the air. We’ve got to go all the way across the rest of the United States and then all the way over the Pacific to Hawaii, which is another five hours. Long ways, babe. Long ways.”
We got settled into our seats, which were up in the front on the left side of the plane. Our bags stowed, we sat and were immediately greeted by an ultraperky, obviously gay flight attendant who asked us what we would like to drink. It was too early for alcohol so we both opted for juice.
When the guy had stepped away to get our drinks, I leaned over and whispered to Kyle, “He likes you,” referring to the flight attendant.
“What’s not to like? I’m an awesome man.”
“That’s my guy!”
“No. Your awesome guy.”
Since the plane was larger and was full, it took longer to get everyone on board and get their stuff stowed away. But finally everyone and everything was settled and the main cabin door was closed. Kyle was so excited as the plane started to push back that he was practically bouncing up and down in his seat.
“Don’t hurt yourself there, big guy,” I jokingly cautioned with a huge dollop of delight in my voice.
“Hush. This is absolutely amazing. I don’t know how they’re ever gonna get something this huge off the ground and then keep it in the air for more than eight hours with all these people on board. I mean, have you seen the size of this thing?” he said, gesturing roughly at the cabin around us.
“Have no fear. Planes do this every day. Hundreds of times every hour.”
“They might do it, but I’ve never done it, so hush up and let me watch.”
Whether due to the early hour or the fact that it was a Saturday or some other reason entirely, the taxi to the runway was extremely efficient. In minutes the plane was sitting at the end of the runway in position, ready to roll. And roll it did. When the engines spooled up, we felt ourselves pushed back into our seats as the giant machine started racing down the runway. In well under
