Wednesday, November 3, 2010

PROMPT: stranded in 1,000 words

I have been sitting here at the airport in Dubai for more than six hours and there is still no announcement as to when my Cathay Pacific flight to Hong Kong will leave. I, along with the several hundred passengers, were told that they are trying to fix the plane’s engine just to make sure there will be no problems when we fly. Great!

I go around the Duty Free Shops and buy an expensive Seiko watch, one with a thin rectangular face in gold casing and leather band. The face is black and blank apart from the gold hands and a small dot of gold for “12” and the Seiko logo on it. Three hundred American dollars, it cost me. I am looking at a Gucci wallet when I hear the announcement about my flight. I promptly give the wallet back to the Filipina saleslady and hurry to the Cathay Pacific counter to listen to the replay of the announcement. The end of the announcement says we will board in two hours.

I go to the washroom and freshen up, my toes barking from being squished inside my high heeled shoes since early this morning. When I go out the bathroom, I decide to take my shoes off and walk and wait around barefoot. I try to ignore the stares from the men by reading the newspapers and magazines I have gathered from my flight from Muscat to Dubai. A man comes up to me and asks if I am waiting for the same flight he is. He shows me his ticket and I tell him we are indeed on the same flight. He thanks me and I go back to the New Yorker magazine I am reading. He sits beside me, and I smell a wisp of aftershave, not at all offensive. When I close the magazine and about to shove it inside my carry-on, he speaks.

“Excuse me, I didn’t mean to be rude, but my name is Zachary Blakes.” He extends his hand at me and I shake his hand. He speaks good English but I note the slight accent that I could not yet figure out.

“Cynthia,” I say purposely not offering my last name.

"Are you going to Hong Kong, too, Cynthia?"

"Yes, but only to change plane. I am going to Manila."

"Ah, Manila!" he says with a big smile and nods his head. "I have Filipinos in my team. In fact they're over there, they're on the same flight. Nice men."

So since we are conversing, I ask: "What do you do around here?"

He's a mechanical engineer at Dubai's National Refinery. He is going to Hong Kong to do some shopping.

"But can I invite you to have some coffee with me while we talk?"

We go to one of the coffee shops, minding the announcements being broadcast. We talk for a good three hours, and by the time we finally hear the call for us to board our plane, one would think that Zach and I have known each other for a long time. He now hauls my carry-on luggage and I carry his jacket for him. We check our seats and find out he sits two rows in front of me and that the person sitting beside me is one of his "people" at the Refinery who is just glad to exchange seats with him so that we could sit together during the flight.


The flight is full and we are told we will be stopping in Bombay, as during the flight, one of the plane’s two engines goes dead. Zach and I are holding hands, his arms around me, and he whispers that should anything go wrong with the plane, we shall be together and that he will protect me whatever happens. Like if the plane just crashes anywhere in the mountains or in the Indian Ocean or wherever it is we are right now.

The plane makes it to Bombay safely and we are hauled to hotel shuttle buses for our overnight accommodation. The airline staff requests that while we can opt for a single room, can we please if at all possible find someone to partner with? A Filipina approaches me at the bus and tells me she does not know anybody in the flight and is afraid to stay alone in a hotel room, would I be so kind as to let her stay with me? I look at Zach, I see him about to shake his head to signal me to say no to the Filipina, but just as I am about to say no, a flight attendant approaches him, verified that he is indeed Zachary Blakes and tells him that the Refinery has made a special accommodation for him and he needs to check in at a special desk once we reach the hotel. I tell the Filipina she can stay with me.

The drive to the hotel is tedious. Our bus is not air conditioned and the heat, even though it is already after sunset, made us all feel clammy and sticky. Children on the side of the road run after buses asking the passengers for money. There is a certain smell of filth in the air from animal excrements all over the road. Reaching the hotel where there is a slight feel of air conditioning became quite a relief.

I lose Zach once we reach the hotel. Registration for the rooms became chaotic when more buses full of passengers from another flight arrive. Leonora, the Filipina, follows me around and insists on talking to me in the dialect even though I continue to speak in English.

In the room, there is only one bed and a pull out sofa. I ask Leonora where she wants to sleep. She says it is up to me. I let her have the bed. The phone rings and I answer it. It is Zach. He would like us to go down and have our dinner. I tell him I will wash up first. I tell Leonora I will be having dinner downstairs and she should go, too. She wants to come with me. I give her the other key to the room. I tell her I have to dine with a friend.
Zach knocks just as I am about to leave. He is holding a bottle of Port, wanting us to have an aperitif. I told him port is an after-dinner drink. Instead, he grabs and kisses me, his hand all over my back and buttocks. Leonora stands by the window watching us. I break away from Zach and it is then he notices Leonora, apologizes and looks at me inquiringly.

“Let’s go have dinner, then we discuss the port afterwards.” I grab his arm and we get out of the hotel room.

Do I believe in fate? Do I believe in karma? Zachary Blakes is not my type of man, he does not possess the sophistication that have been the characteristics of the men I have so far dated. He comes across as someone from the other side of the tracks but came into big money so he was able to switch sides. My mother once told me that class is not dependent on money or status in society. Zach has that non-elegance about him. But no matter he is good looking and I tell myself that if I will have a one-night stand with him, which at this time I am about ready to do, and I get pregnant, I probably would not regret it.

"My suite is large," he says over dinner. He looks at Leonora opposite us on the table. "Leonora can stay in your room and should be able to rest without interruption. So why don't you stay with me in my suite."

I am about to say "Yes," when Leonora interjects. "But I am afraid to stay alone in the room. I would like to stay with Ma'am Cynthia."

There goes my one-night stand.

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