Chicago O’Hare International Airport welcomed all who sought refuge from the freezing, snow-carrying winds with open arms, promising shelter and warmth. There were quick-service food stops with hot meals, and seats available for those who were quick enough to snag them, as well as outlets for the very lucky few. But the five terminals of the international airport were now relegated to just those amenities, and failed to fulfill their purpose of getting cold and tired travelers across the country or into any others. It was, in a sense, the largest transient shelter in the northeast of the United States. And even though no flights were coming and going in the foreseeable future, the TSA line extended almost all the way to the drop-off gate.
The crowds moved like a current in the ocean, pulling Drake and Lulu with them, whether the two wanted to flow with them or not, until they were sucked into the security line when it was decided by the current that it was their turn.
“We should’a skipped breakfast,” Drake groaned. “How long do you think this is gonna take to get through?”
“Hopefully long enough,” Lulu said. “Can you keep my spot in line?”
Drake looked down at her with worry. If she stepped out of line now, there was no way in hell they’d be reunited. “Can it wait till we get through?”
“Drake, I don’t have a ticket.” She was practically shouting at the top of her lungs to be heard over the raucous crowd.
He leaned in close to her, so much so that their faces almost touched. Each other’s heartbeats could practically be heard.
“What are you talking about? I thought you got that worked out.”
The line pushed them further along. More people joined at the end. The ever-growing millipede snaking through the lanes now extended through the automatic doors and out onto the sidewalk.
“I wasn’t able to, yet. I know this sounds dumb, but I don’t actually have a phone plan. I just live off of free wifi.”
“What are you doing standing around? It’s an airport; they’ve got some.”
“Think I haven’t tried that? I can’t get connected.”
The overworked TSA agents pulled them another foot closer to the checkpoint. Off to the side, pre-check travelers rushed through their special.
“Why didn’t you go to the counter yet?” he asked with growing frustration. Drake just knew that she’d get up to the counter after waiting another hour in another line.
Her response came in the form of raising her hand, which had been held tightly by Drake since they got to the airport.
Drake griped and moaned, coming up with some excuse about making sure she didn’t get distracted, overwhelmed, or lost during her second attempt at air travel.
“I’ll be fine,” she chided, freeing her hand from his. “Look, just give me your number, and I’ll text you when I get through. I take it you got a flight already.”
“I booked it when we were headed to the diner.”
“Cool. Send me the details. I’ll try to match it. What’s your number?”
Drake took her phone and made a new contact under “Drake Phillips” and sent himself a text that didn’t go through.
“Okay, Drake Phillips. Changing that to something more fun, later. Send me those details. Maybe I can squeeze onto the flight before you leave.” Lulu began pushing through the line to the chagrin and heckling of others who already felt the people around them were getting too close.
Drake shouted as high as he had to so he could reach her over the groans of an increasingly volatile crowd. “What if you don’t get a flight? Where are you headed in New York?”
Lulu tried to stop and hear what it was he asked, but was already caught in her own new current, aided by other travelers shuffling her out of the line, and Drake’s voice was completely drowned out.
The line for baggage check and flight information was significantly shorter than the TSA line. Lulu thanked the online booking sites for that small grace. She was able to speak to an airline representative just as Drake passed through the metal detectors. And in a welcome change of pace from the angry mob trying to get to their flights, the representative at least tried to maintain a positive attitude about the storm-addled holiday rush.
“How can SkyRide help you today, ma’am?” the rep asked.
Lulu rose on her tiptoes to try to match the rep’s height, but fell short a few inches. She felt silly, like a kid traveling without her parents and having to ask a grown-up for help. “I was hoping you could help me find a flight to New York. Today.” She glanced down at her phone. There was still no internet connection, and still no text from Drake.
The representative held a wavering smile. “Right,” she eked out, the only drop in her otherwise complete professionalism. “Um, I don’t know if I can promise you anything-”
“Please,” Lulu insisted. “I was on one of the flights that came in last night, rerouted from Miami.” She explained the full situation, even when the rep had more than necessary details. She got every detail of the story from the double-booked seat, to the turbulence, to convincing Drake to get a hotel for the night, to the ride to the hotel with the driver’s annoying podcast, and even name-dropped the diner they ate at two hours earlier. Lulu left out one or two details about the actual stay in the hotel. And all of it came down to, there was never any available internet, and in the few short hours there were, there just wasn’t a chance to get a new flight that departed at a reasonable time.
The representative couldn’t even fake a smile anymore. “I’m really sorry, but all flights to New York today are totally booked. This storm pushed everyone back. The earliest available flight is Friday afternoon.”
“Friday? I can’t do Friday! I need to be in New York!”
“I’d really like to help you, but you should have rescheduled your flight as soon as you landed. Even Friday’s flights are filling up fast.” Without waiting for Lulu’s permission, the woman began the process to snag her a seat.
“Are there any other flights going into the area?” Lulu asked. “What about New Jersey?”
The airline worker made a drawn-out tsssk between her teeth, and hesitantly told Lulu, “Newark is currently closed. And JFK and LaGuardia are at risk, too, if the storm doesn’t let up. Would you like me to book the Friday flight for you?”
Lulu, bouncing anxiously on her toes, looked over at the TSA line again. It still extended all the way to the road, but Drake was no longer anywhere to be seen.
When she didn’t receive an answer, and saw the desperate look on Lulu’s face, the airline worker sighed and made a new offer. “Okay, sweetie. Here’s what I can do.”
Lulu’s head shot back around, and her eyes gleamed wide. Was this woman going to boot someone off of the next flight out?
The worker went on, “We have a full fleet of rentals available. If you need to get to New York by Thursday, that may be the best way. Your flight insurance won’t cover it, and you’ll still be at the mercy of the storm, but at least you won’t have to fight anyone to get a good car.”
Pure, ecstatic joy overtook Lulu. She felt like she could have reached over the counter to hug the woman. “Oh my God, thank you!” she shouted.
The worker leaned over the counter to point Lulu in the right direction. She would have to make the arduous trek through irritated crowds, but with everyone trying to fly out, and almost no flights flying in, there was no one to hold her up in line when she found where she was supposed to be.
On the other side of the TSA checkpoint, Drake stared up at the flight information board to find where he was supposed to go, if he would even be going anywhere. The storm was picking up again outside, and the overflow of red and orange letters under both ‘Arrivals’ and ‘Departures’ kept his expectations low. So many of the flights didn’t even have gates attached to them. But within the sea of red, less than a dozen flights popped up green. One of them was the 9:43 for JFK at gate 13C.
Drake checked his phone for the millionth time. Plenty of messages from his brother checking in on him, but not a single one from Lulu.
Whatever, he told himself. She’s an adult. She’ll figure it out.
Drake extended the handle on his rolling bag and stepped off to find his gate. As each person came up behind him to pass, he looked over his shoulder to see if it was a five-foot-nothing girl with a bad haircut and his sweater. He walked next to the autowalk instead of on it just to waste time in case she came running through.
As he came up to an intersection in the terminal, he saw another information board. Somehow, even more red and yellow was able to fit on the board. The 9:43 to JFK was thankfully one of the four flights still in the green. As long as it stayed that way for the next fifteen minutes until boarding, he could relax.
He pressed on, walking only as fast as he had there to make it for the Group A boarding call. But still nothing of the girl. Either she never connected, or the more realistic option, her ditzy brain just forgotten. She’d meet him on the flight – maybe a few rows back from him, but there nevertheless – and ask, “Wait, did you not get my message?” knowing full well she never sent one. He just wanted her to make it to that important job interview, or whatever it was. That was all.
And, hey, if she somehow didn’t get on this flight, she’d be on the next. And at that point, if the cycle of delays and rideshares kicked off again, she’d be someone else’s problem. At least he had her number.
She never paid him back for the drinks on last night’s plane like she said she would. He’d remind her when he landed in New York. Hopefully she’ll be able to text back by then.
Drake found himself at a bar across from his gate. He was the only one drinking a coffee, while everyone else at the counter was either starting their preparations for a long day of waiting, or had the evidence of a long morning and a growing tab under their sulking chins. The only person who was enjoying the depression was the bartender.
“Sure you don’t want something stronger than coffee? Gonna be a long one,” the young bartender offered. The day may have been building up to be his best day in tips ever.
Drake looked from his gate to the incoming traffic down the terminal hall. But he didn’t look back at the bartender. “Coffee’s fine,” he said gruffly.
Even on his worst day, Drake wouldn’t be caught dead having a beer before noon.
“You know you’re sitting at a bar, yeah? Besides, it’s the holidays. Treat yourself. You’re not going anywhere, are ya?”
“I said I’m fine,” Drake said again, this time half-turning around.
The bartender moved on to the next patron, saying with a laugh, “Alright, we’ll still be here when you get delayed.”
Drake ignored him. He’d paid his karmic dues enough with this trip already. He was getting on that plane and getting to New York.
The gate intercom buzzed with the attendant readying to make an announcement. Just as they began to speak, Drake’s phone vibrated with an incoming call. He answered it before he checked to see who it was.
“Hey! You make it through?”
It wasn’t Lulu who answered. “What? Dude, it’s Mark. What’s the deal? You get a flight?”
Drake cursed under his breath. “Yeah, I’m boarding right now.” He took one last sip of his coffee and jogged over to his gate.
“Awesome. Mom’s been on my ass all morning. You really need to call her back, dude.”
“Oh yeah, I’m sure. I’m sure she’s gonna be real upset if I don’t make it.”
“She will. You are getting on the plane, right?”
“Yes!” Drake shouted into the phone, squeezing through people to get to his spot in the Group A boarding line. “Look,” he said, changing the phone call to a video call. He pointed the camera at the Gate 13C tunnel. “I’m here. In line. Gonna be one of the first on the plane. Happy?”
He changed the call back to voice-only and brought it to his ear in time to hear his brother say flatly, “I’ll let mom know. When do you land? I’ll pick you up.”
“I can get a cab,” Drake insisted.
“Drake…”
“I’ll be fine,” he insisted, again. Just because he was being guilted into coming home didn’t mean he had to maximize his time around people who were going to constantly berate him for his life choices. “Look, the line’s moving. I’ll text you when I land.”
He ended the call before his brother could argue. And now that was out of the way; the obligatory ‘fly safe’ call with a family member, and he didn’t have to carry the stress of not updating Mark every step of the way.
Two people boarded the plane before Drake, and took their sweet time walking through the tunnel. He took another look back over his shoulder as the attendant scanned the ticket saved to his phone. Still no sign.
He walked through the tunnel and checked his phone. Still no text.
Drake took his seat. 12G, a window seat. No one coming on the plane after him claimed that he was in the wrong seat or that they were double-booked.
Good sign, he told himself, happy that things were running smoothly for once.
He looked out the window and saw the snow coming down on the tarmac. It was arguably the clearest it had been all morning, but no promise that it would be a smooth takeoff. Turbulence would likely be a bitch all the way to New York.
The seats filled in all around him. Drake watched every face that passed through the door. A few short blondes in sweaters walked on. None of them looked like Lulu.
He took a breath, eager for takeoff so that he could order another coffee from the beverage cart.
The middle seat of his row remained empty as the plane filled. Just to save himself from an argument in case she did come on, he moved over to the empty seat.
Just in case.
The line shortened out. Everyone was fixing their bags in the overhead storage and finding their seats. For thirty seconds – not that he was counting – no one passed through the door until one of the stewardesses closed it.
The monitors on the seatbacks turned on, displaying route maps. Everything looked fine. The weather app on the monitor showed that it was still snowing pretty hard on the East Coast, but apparently their pilot and the tower felt confident in their abilities to land.
Absolutely nothing was stopping Drake from getting home on that flight.
* * *
Lulu sat under the rental parking gate, with her frozen legs up in Drake’s sweater. The snow was picking up again, and tore at her exposed cheek like sandpaper. Her toes had gone numb at least ten minutes ago, but it felt like it had been an hour.
A green sedan moved toward her through the blur of the snow. As the gate rose to let the car pass, so did Lulu, exposing her bare legs once again to the biting cold.
She threw her arms out to wave down the driver and stepped in their way so that they would stop, then rushed over to their door and knocked.
The window rolled down to reveal a man and a woman, and in the back seat, a car seat with a bundled-up baby. The woman in the passenger seat nudged the man and told him to roll up the window and “Just go.”
Trying not to sound like a crazy, human popsicle, Lulu asked them, “Hey! Where ya headed?”
“I’m sorry, we don’t have any money,” the woman in the passenger seat said. The man added, “We’re in a rush.”
“That’s fine!” Lulu rushed to say. “I’m not asking for money. You don’t think you could give me a ride, do you?”
The baby in the backseat began to cry, and the woman reached over the man for the window controls. “No. No, thank you. We can’t help.” Then, to the man, “Seriously, David, just go. I’m fucking freezing.”
The man in the front seat dropped his foot on the gas pedal and sped forward toward the open gate. Lulu barely managed to jump out of the way in time to avoid her foot being run over, and shouted after them a simple, “Please!” that was drowned out by the blowing wind.
The car turned out of the parking lot, and like the dozen before it, was lost in the falling snow.
Lulu dropped back onto the curb of the gate booth and shielded her legs once more with Drake’s sweater. She rocked back and forth, and rubbed her chest under the sweater for warmth.
I should call Marsha. No! She’d kill me if she found out about this. But how would she get home if she were stuck?
Lulu couldn’t picture Marsha in a situation like the one she was in. But there were other girls she knew who could apply their wits better than herself. For instance, there was Faye, a girl she used to hang out with when she first moved in with Marsha. Faye was so much more open to keeping open direct message conversations with her “Fanz”, even going on “dates” with them sometimes. It was only ever a quick, public link-up that always amounted to a brief photo shoot for social media as a way to market her page and “love for her Fanz”, but it worked. Lulu could do that, too.
She could make a post on her page to see who was in the area and go on one of Faye’s “dates” in exchange for a ride. Once she had the thought, she beat herself up for not thinking of it sooner. The full scope of “by any means possible” apparently hadn’t totally sunk in yet.
Lulu opened the app. Each tap and swipe on the screen took multiple attempts. The screen could barely recognize her finger’s touch with such a low body temperature. Or maybe it was that she wasn’t even making contact with the screen. It was so cold, she couldn’t feel anything on the tips of her fingers and almost dropped the phone in her frustration. And then she realized how futile it was when the “no connection” banner popped up at the top of the screen.
Tears welled up in frozen ducts. She raised the useless device and pulled back her arm. When it released, the phone didn’t fly across frosted pavement. It stopped short after flying through the opening window of an approaching car, and slamming into the window on the passenger side, barely missing the driver.
“What the hell was that for?” the driver asked.
Lulu looked up.
“Drake? I thought you had a flight?”
Drake put the car in park and stepped out of the car. “What are you doing out here? Forget it. Get in the car. Come on.”
Lulu lunged forward to escape the cold. She jumped through the driver's side, climbing over the center console to ball up on the passenger seat.
A little stunned, Drake hesitated to get back in the car. He was pushed along by Lulu shouting, “Close the door!”
He got back in and turned the heat up.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked again.
“What are you doing?” she asked in response. “Thought you had a flight.”
“Thought you were getting a flight. I was hope-” He cut himself off and started again. “I was wondering if we were gonna be on the same flight again.”
Drake couldn’t tell if she was shaking her head or if she was shivering. She held her nearly-bloodless, curled-frozen hands in front of the heater. There were no signs of frostbite yet. She’d take whatever miracles she could get.
“Didn’t work,” she said, speaking fast. “Tried a rental.”
Drake waited for her to continue, then egged, “And?”
She brought her hands to her mouth and breathed on them, then rubbed them, then put them back in front of the heater. She said, “And apparently you need a driver’s license.”
“You don’t have a driver’s license?”
This time, it was a clear headshake. “Never needed one.”
“Holy shit, Lulu,” he laughed. “You’re seriously a lost cause, aren’t you?”
Lulu shrugged, finally starting to feel a little warmer. “Worked out, didn’t it? I still got a ride.”
“Yeah, okay. Well, luck runs out eventually.” Drake shifted the gear to Drive and pulled forward toward the gate.
“Seems like it won’t if we stick together,” she said, nudging his arm. “But what about you? I thought you had a flight.”
Drake looked over at her with a sly grin. “You’re gonna love this. While you seem to keep lucking out, my flight got canned after boarding.”
“No!” she exclaimed with sympathy, sitting up on her knees in the passenger seat.
“Yep. All flights cancelled. Not gonna see a single one going out until tomorrow.”
Silence hung between them for a moment. His grin didn’t match the tragedy of his words, and it made her luck seem all the more unlikely. It was the passing of a plane overhead, crossing in front of the windshield, that validated her theory.
They both looked up and watched the plane pass.
“All flights cancelled, huh?” she asked.
Drake pressed down on the gas. “You wanna get to New York or what?”