I noticed her
mother first. Stylish and attractive, she was better dressed than most of the
churning mob in the Phoenix airport terminal, waiting for their Memorial Day
weekend flights. She sat six seats away crammed in with other passengers
listening for their boarding calls. An unintelligible announcement barked over
the loudspeaker and she stood, leaned down to a woman in her early twenties,
who I figured was her daughter, and handed her a carry-on bag. The girl
accepted the bag without taking her eyes from the book she held. She continued
to read as the older woman made her way through the aromas of food concessions
to the restroom area.
In the seat next
to me, my wife tapped my arm and pointed to a message on her phone. Our son and
his family were meeting us at the Austin, Texas airport.
I glanced back
at the young woman who still intently read her book. What concentration she
had. Amidst all this terminal turmoil, she appeared focused on the pages before
her, repeatedly touching a finger to the lips, then with the same finger
turning a page.
When she paused
and lifted the book, I saw the cover. It looked very familiar. Looked very much
like the cover of my book. My debut novel. Had some other author used a similar
design? Then I realized
it was my book this stranger was
reading. I whispered to my wife to look and motioned with my head toward the
young woman.
“Don’t you
dare!” my wife said.
“What?”
“Ask if she
wants it signed.”
“Never occurred
to me.” I said unconvincingly.
The girl
returned to the book, that is my book. I tried to study her expression for some
indication of what she thought about the novel, but saw only focused attention.
She turned the pages at a steady rate so she was into the story—maybe. It
looked like she was about mid-way through the book and I tried to imagine what
scene she was in. Was it an action scene? Too early for the love scene.
The young woman
was a complete stranger. Never saw her in my life. How did she come by the
book? Where did she buy it? At a bookstore or over the Internet? Did a friend
recommend it?
The older woman
returned and spoke to the girl while looking at her watch. She pointed to the
book and asked something. I watched to see if I could pick up what the girl
said, but couldn’t detect anything positive or negative. She could have been
talking about the weather.
“Stop looking at
her.” My wife nudged me. “Get your things, our plane’s boarding.”
I put my laptop
back in the case, found my boarding pass, and then looked back in the direction
of the two women. They were gone.
And any chance
to know what the young woman thought of my book.
Just as well.
Arthur Kerns is a
retired FBI special agent and past president of the Arizona chapter of the
Association of Former Intelligence Officers (AFIO). His award-winning short
fiction has appeared in numerous anthologies. Diversion Books, Inc. published
in March 2013 his espionage thriller, The Riviera Contract and this
month the sequel, The African Contract.
You can visit him on
www.arthurkerns.com
7 comments :
Good story, Arthur!
Did this by any chance happen to you?
This story made me smile all over. Hope it happens to me someday.
two comments 1) I dream of this happening to me and 2) a team of wild horses couldn't have stopped me from talking to her. What restraint you have Art!
Love the post, Arthur!
Me too.
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