This story was written by Hadena James and is part of the Dysfunctional Chronicles.
Long airplane rides are good places to make deals with God, the Devil, and the Universe. The person behind you is being a jerk and kicking your seat, the kid in the aisle seat on your row won’t shut up about the newest video game, your husband fell asleep before the plane left the tarmac and has snored for the last ten hours, nine of which you have desperately needed to pee. It’s just not worth it to have a window seat sometimes because no matter who or what you try to strike a deal with, the Universe is going to make sure it does not go as planned. The only good thing was there weren’t any layovers once we left JFK. Of course, if there had been, I would not have been stuck in this seat for going on ten hours. It was an Aeroflot flight, which only offered economy seating, not my favorite way to fly to Russia, but one does what one can on short notice. Being a dual citizen meant I didn’t have to wait for VISAs and things. The only good thing about having a Russian mother that had once been a spy really.
However, why in the world they let me come back to the motherland was beyond me. I wouldn’t have let me have dual citizenship, but then again, Zeke was a dual citizen, I often wondered if that meant I was a double dual citizen or if he was a double dual citizen. I wasn’t sure how it worked, I just knew that Harry Burns with Homeland had cleared us to fly, immediately, so Zeke didn’t have a travel VISA either, which meant he had to be a citizen of Russia too. I hadn’t thought too hard about it until the flight. My goal was to never put this much thought into it again. It had made my brain hurt a little bit, like trying to figure out what the universe was expanding into.
The seat belt sign came on as a woman in Russian announced we’d be landing in Moscow shortly. She repeated it in English because no matter what kind of screwed up language English was, Russian was much harder to learn. The location of inflection in a word could change something from a sentence to a question… This is why I was better at reading Russian than hearing it or speaking it. Of course, my father had spoken some sort of Celtic Irish language along with English and I hadn’t learned it either. Needless to say, my trips to Ireland were on permanent hold since none of my relatives were willing to speak to me.
I did not wait for deboarding instructions. Zeke could grab our bags, I needed off the plane and into the terminal to find a bathroom. Of course, I’d get checked by Customs first, but maybe if they saw my desperation, they’d be fast.
No such luck. Zeke caught up with me at Customs, still waiting on one person in front of me. She must have been as old as the pyramids and she spoke not Russian and not English, that was all I could tell. There was a man speaking to her in the same language. Neither looked happy and I was just hoping they got her out of the way before there was a puddle under me. That would be bad for diplomatic relations.
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This book is a work of fiction. Any names, places, characters, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination and are purely fictitious. Any resemblances to any persons, living or dead, are completely coincidental.
Copyright © Hadena James 2016
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