一月8-9日

週六, 兒子和我整理行李至深夜, 我們邊打理邊聊,手裡忙著裝裝疊疊,心裡更是理著交錯的情緒,亦子亦友的兒子,讓我逐漸看明白:亞利桑那雖是我心牽繫的家,但也是一個危機暗伏的地方,也許紮根在一片新的天地,我才能重新自由綻放。於是打定了心意,天一亮兒子飛紐約,我回北卡。我告訴自己,這次回去後,要真誠地將心給北卡。三年多了,我這流放吉普賽人的心態,需要停駔,書房角落裏的箱子,需要一一打開!!

我們兩人忙到大半夜,約2點半的時候,手機裡傳來,西北航空公司通知取消我往北卡的班機,電話上週旋了半天,改期最早的航班是禮拜三晚上出發,禮拜四清晨抵達的行程,我在禮拜二和禮拜四早上共有三節課,這絕對是不成的。我於是決定退款,重新訂位美國航空公司。新的行程禮拜一出發,由匹茲堡轉機北卡,夜裡到,可以趕上教隔日8點鐘開始的課。隔日早上,好朋友看醫生前把我送到機場,不捨的祝福和擁抱後,我的一顆心開始有了「回家」的期待。但是,這上揚的心情,在航班抵達匹茲堡機場跑道時,手機顯示「轉接北卡的班機取消」的簡訊,讓我的心馬上沉了下來!下了飛機急急找到櫃檯,一臉不耐的服務人員告訴我,我得在當地待上一晚,隔日清晨北飛紐約,然後再南下北卡,10點左右可抵達。我對這不可思議的狀況,臉上掛的極度挫折的表情,也招不到同情。毫無的選擇接受新的安排時,不爭氣的淚珠便珠子似的,開始在眼眶裡打轉。手裡攆著新的登機證,躲進了洗手間,只是靜靜淚下,擦乾了淚後,坐到登機門附近的坐椅,開始打電話訂旅館。幾通不順的斷線的電話後,我便像沒用的脆弱瓷娃娃,落地便徹徹底底的瓦解,人生第一回在公共場合,洩洪般的哭泣,過往的旅客行行走走,朝著我看。但是平日好強的我,一點也不在乎,我需要這一場沒有束縛的哭泣,在無人知我的土地,用盡我失望的權利。

稍晚之後,我終於坐了接駁車到訂好的旅館,這Hampton Inn沒有餐廳,我雖然除了早餐便沒吃過東西,但已經精疲力盡,又想著清晨3-4點間便得到機場,不想再外出覓食。Hampton Inn連鎖店,我待過幾次,記得多有新鮮烤的餅乾,所以當下便問櫃檯,我是否可有幾片餅乾充飢。我這一問,招來服務人員一臉迷糊的樣,告訴我,他們從來沒有提供過餅乾。像一個失控的孩子, 我馬上激動淚光閃閃質問著,「是Hampton Inn怎麼可以沒有餅乾, 每一個Hampton Inn都提供餅乾?!」,懊惱的我拖著行李便轉身往電梯走,我後來想那櫃檯的人員一定是一臉的無奈,看著我演著一齣無頭尾的鬧劇。

之後我打開房門,搜尋我的行李,驚喜的找到一個太陽餅和蘋果,這是我細心的朋友今早細心幫我打包的點心。我安靜的坐在桌前,慢慢的嚼,呼吸漸漸平息,開始通知學校、學生,改機票。泡了一個放鬆的澡後,我再無力多想,一頭埋入舒適的床,無眠的旅人竟然沉沉入睡。

那夜,我沒到家,我的歸程被按了一個暫停!

January 8-9: The Interrupted Return

Joey and I packed until passing Saturday mid-night. As my hands were busy sorting through our personal items, my mind was attempting to untangle matted emotion. Play by play, I began to see, while Arizona was a sweet home to me, it also stored bags of inescapable pains. So, perhaps, by putting down root somewhere new might actually set me free to a new becoming. It was settled then; I was determined: in the morning, Joey would fly to New York City for school and I would commit to North Carolina with a greater sincerity and by giving a bigger piece of my heart.

At approximately 2:30am, an alert of my flight cancellation came from Southwest Airline. I was not going to accept this pause for my return lightly and immediately worked on rescheduling my new outbound flight. After much frustrated negotiation, the best offer from the airline was for me to return three days later on a red-eye flight arriving on Thursday morning. “This wouldn’t do” I said as I have lectures scheduled at 8am on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. I proceeded to request a refund and rebooked with American Airline, which would take me back to NC on Monday through Pittsburg. The one-day delay was unsettling yet doable; I must leave before I change my mind.

On the 9^th, my dear friend TL dropped me off to the airport before her doctor’s appointment. My spirit was high with the longing to go home; I had made up my mind that, upon returning, I would unpack the boxes still sitting in the study after three years and begin painting the house with my personal colors. But, I was soon deflated as my flight landing in Pittsburgh, when an alert came through my phone once again with flight cancellation. The agent at the counter did not have much patient with me, who must have appeared devastated in disbelief.  Her explanation of my proposed new schedule, which entailed early next morning flights first north to New York and then back south to North Carolina, invited no response but only tears rolling in my eyes. I had to accept the new arrangement anyway since she said “There are only two seats left; if you want to take it, I need to book you right away.” So I grabbed the new boarding passes in my hand, went to the lady’s room, and began weeping subtly.  It was not until after the repeated failed attempts in connecting through a “distressed traveler hotel booking” service that I reached a complete breakdown. I began sobbing audibly in public first time in my life, sitting at a corner of the terminal with passersby looking at me with concern. I made no eye contacts and I did not care. I needed the release in its entirety, it was overdue, I had an excuse, and I was in a strange but safe place. The sobbing was cleansing!!

Later in the evening, I was picked up by a shuttle and arrived Hampton Inn, exhausted and starving. Since the hotel sat on an isolated compound with no attached restaurant, I inquired if I could just have a few of their freshly baked cookies, a staple of Hampton Inn. The lady at the check-in counter looked confused and explained to me the hotel never offered cookies. Right there and at the very moment, I began tearing up again “But, why? You must have cookies. Every Hampton Inn I had been offered cookies” I walked away with my rolling bag with profound defeat, and, thinking back, I am sure the lady at the counter must be utterly at loss. Fortunately, searching through my bag in the hotel room, I found a cookie and an apple that my sweet friend had so thoughtful packed for me that morning.  I sat in my room quietly, chewing the food and beginning to breath. After making all the necessary notifications with the school for my would-be missed lectures next morning and rescheduling my flights, I took a long bath, crawled into bed. 

That night, my journey back has been put on a pause, and I had no energy to argue. That night, I slept!!