Jim Thompson, "Fireworks: The Lost Writings"
(This is part 6 of an 18-part story, which begins here. Part 5 is here. And here is where you find part 10. Part 15? Right here. And the end of this entirely too long story is located here. After that, you�re on your own.)
(12:45 a.m. � Oakland Airport � 18th hour.)
�Whoo! Hawaii!�
�Sorry?�
�Aren�t you excited?�
I look at the newcomer, a lady in her mid-to-late 30s with her eight year-old son in tow. Finally, I answer her. �I�m not sure I have the capacity to be excited anymore. I�ve been here since 6:45 in the morning.�
�OH MY GOD! Why would you do that?�
�Ticket problems,� I said simply.
The hippie girl raised her head up, apparently having woken up due to the newcomer�s exuberance. She glared at the interloper.
�You on standby?� the hippie girl asked gruffly.
�Is there anyway else to fly?�
The hippie, apparently satisfied that the newcomer posed no threat, put her head back to her makeshift pillow and went to sleep. The newcomer and her son, despite having so much energy less than two minutes before did the same, falling asleep almost immediately. I considered trying to nap myself, but figured it would be more trouble than it was worth. After all, I�ve had less than three hours of sleep for the last 38 hours, and if I fell asleep now, I may not get up again. Meanwhile, I�m sure the people behind me would have no problems jumping over my carcass to get in front when the line did open.
And there was indeed a line behind me now. Shortly after the woman and her son fell asleep, another couple sat down behind her. Soon after, a group of six kids got in line. Then a family of five. It didn�t take long before the line stretched around the corner, and there was no way of telling who was on standby and who actually had tickets.
Now back to reading a standard book, I was worried that it would simply knock me out, but I seemed to have passed the exhaustion threshold � I don�t even feel that tired, though I can tell I�m only firing on a few cylinders. With this book being a collection of short stories, it was easier to concentrate � all I needed were short bursts of energy to finish each story, and then spend a short time resting, gearing up to tackle the next one.
I find myself looking at the clock a lot during this time, but every time I do so, I have to count � on my fingers no less, as my brain can�t handle the simple math � how much longer I can expect to be sitting in this spot. Meanwhile, as with any short story collection, some stories were great, others smelled like ass, or perhaps like the hippies in front of me. A few stories made me cackle out loud, making me dangerously close to sounding maniacal.
3:15 in the morning, and I see some familiar faces � the same people who wouldn�t let me on my plane in the first place. They spot me as well, as I�m the only person out of the first 10 people in line that isn�t passed out on the floor. They look very annoyed that we�re there. In fact, it wouldn�t surprise me if security had called and made then open the counter early in order to clear the pathway.
The manager starts to shout, addressing everybody in the line, saying that he will take the first ten names for standby tickets. �But,� he warns rather coldly, �both flights are sold out, so nobody should expect much. Those that are behind the first ten people may as well go home and come back the next day at 4:30 a.m.
Nobody moves.
There are only two flights leaving today, one at 7:20 a.m. to the Big Island, the other leaving at 9:00 a.m., stopping in Kaua�i and then going on to Oahu. That�s actually bad for me, because that means the flight I want is the one that will have the most people on it, since Oahu is the most populated island. The hippies put their name on the waiting list and then it�s my turn.
Again, I try to be friendly, but it gets me nowhere.
�Where you trying to go?� he barks at me as soon as I say hello.
�Kaua�i,� I say.
�Okay, the only flight that goes to Kaua�i is at 9 a.m.� He takes my name down. �That means I don�t want to see you in this lobby until 7:30. Come back after that.�
�Okay, but I�m not a standby passenger, I have a date change.�
�Write that down on the list,� he says, almost as an afterthought.
It only now occurs to me that if I hadn�t brought this fact up, it would be even harder for me to get a ticket due to the hippie family. Yes, Sunny Excursions, where the customer is number one!
I step out of the line, nearly running to the bathroom to expel all those drinks I had earlier.
