He had lived on his own, sequestered in his cluttered little apartment, by his own choice, for years. There had been a few details to work out about the arrangements in the beginning, but it had worked to his satisfaction up until now. Suddenly he was in a situation that no one believed him about; he could not get one solitary person on the outside to treat this seriously. It may very well be up to him, but wasn’t sure what he could do, even if he left his apartment.
He went back through her E-mails. She mentioned that she lived within walking distance of work, and that often saved her gas money, when the weather was nice. She had also mentioned a park near her work. She had said that it was very pretty, lots of trees and grass, and a few benches. It was a good place to take a brown-bag lunch and sit in the sun, let the wind blow her hair. It almost made him wish that he had a spot like that. If someone had kidnapped her in the park, people leaving work would think she just took off at lunch because her car wasn’t in the parking lot. They might have no idea that she was even missing.
He checked his PayPal tip jar. There was more money than he had expected. He had money in the bank, too. Was he really considering doing something? In some ways, the idea frightened him; he hadn’t seen the sun in years, but staying in the apartment suddenly seemed unbearable. What if the police were right? What if it were just a fluke that she hadn’t E-mailed him? If he flew out to Portland, and nothing had happened to her, she would think he was a stalker. That would definitely cost him a friend. But he couldn’t just sit at home and do nothing.
He logged onto a travel agent website and booked a one-way flight to Portland, noting that he was in a wheelchair and had special needs. He checked the balance on the checkcard that he used to pay Peapod; it looked like it would be enough to pay for his needs in Portland for a few days and still buy a return flight ticket. Of course, that would mean finding the physical card; he only used it on-line up until now, and hadn’t needed the card since he entered the information into the computer. He loaded up his printer with the best quality paper he had, and printed out several copies of the picture he had of Lena. The enormity of what he was doing astounded him, yet he felt he had no choice.
He needed to get packed, and to gather up what little cash he had, and get to the airport. It would really be a waste if he had made all these preparations and then missed the flight.
Somewhere in the midst of all the preparations, he came up with the joke he needed for The Gag Reflex: Dr. Bob: I crossed a lightning bug with a cockroach. Reporter: What did you get? Dr. Bob: I don’t know, but every time it lights up, it runs and hides under the refrigerator. He had no idea why that popped into his head, but there it was, and he able to finish that blog.
Soon the limousine service was at the door, and he gathered up his things, and took a long look at the small, dark apartment that he had not left in almost ten years. Suddenly it seemed outright claustrophobic. He opened the door, and the limo driver, after recoiling slightly, picked up his bags and they left.
It was a long, quiet ride to O’Hare. There was so much he hadn’t seen in so long, but right now, none of it seemed important. It seemed like the road construction crews were working on the same parts of the same roads as the last time he was out. When they finally reached the airport, he tipped the driver, and also tipped a skycap to check his bags. Wheeling his chair to the check-in counter, he picked up his E-ticket and boarding pass. Airport security was ridiculous. Did they really think that he was hiding explosives in his shoes? Not that mattered. He couldn’t walk, anyway, what difference did it really make if he was wearing shoes? When he finally got through security, then he went to the gate, and they had to get a special wheelchair for him. Regular wheelchairs don’t fit down the aisle of a commercial airliner. He hadn’t realized when he left the house how much he would have to endure just to get on an airplane. Up until he arrived at the airport, he had thought his hardest time would be dealing with the outside. Now it looked like the airport might be the worst of it.
It was a long flight. He was hungry. When did they stop serving meals on long flights? It seemed like with the fare increases over the last ten years, there should have been more amenities on the flight, instead of less. There was satellite radio, but that really didn’t impress Ed much. Maybe if he had been traveling for pleasure, it would have been different. He really didn’t feel like listening to music, and radio talk shows even less.Eventually the captain came on the public address system, announcing that they would be landing soon. Ed hoped that getting off the plane wouldn’t be as bad as getting on it had been.
He went back through her E-mails. She mentioned that she lived within walking distance of work, and that often saved her gas money, when the weather was nice. She had also mentioned a park near her work. She had said that it was very pretty, lots of trees and grass, and a few benches. It was a good place to take a brown-bag lunch and sit in the sun, let the wind blow her hair. It almost made him wish that he had a spot like that. If someone had kidnapped her in the park, people leaving work would think she just took off at lunch because her car wasn’t in the parking lot. They might have no idea that she was even missing.
He checked his PayPal tip jar. There was more money than he had expected. He had money in the bank, too. Was he really considering doing something? In some ways, the idea frightened him; he hadn’t seen the sun in years, but staying in the apartment suddenly seemed unbearable. What if the police were right? What if it were just a fluke that she hadn’t E-mailed him? If he flew out to Portland, and nothing had happened to her, she would think he was a stalker. That would definitely cost him a friend. But he couldn’t just sit at home and do nothing.
He logged onto a travel agent website and booked a one-way flight to Portland, noting that he was in a wheelchair and had special needs. He checked the balance on the checkcard that he used to pay Peapod; it looked like it would be enough to pay for his needs in Portland for a few days and still buy a return flight ticket. Of course, that would mean finding the physical card; he only used it on-line up until now, and hadn’t needed the card since he entered the information into the computer. He loaded up his printer with the best quality paper he had, and printed out several copies of the picture he had of Lena. The enormity of what he was doing astounded him, yet he felt he had no choice.
He needed to get packed, and to gather up what little cash he had, and get to the airport. It would really be a waste if he had made all these preparations and then missed the flight.
Somewhere in the midst of all the preparations, he came up with the joke he needed for The Gag Reflex: Dr. Bob: I crossed a lightning bug with a cockroach. Reporter: What did you get? Dr. Bob: I don’t know, but every time it lights up, it runs and hides under the refrigerator. He had no idea why that popped into his head, but there it was, and he able to finish that blog.
Soon the limousine service was at the door, and he gathered up his things, and took a long look at the small, dark apartment that he had not left in almost ten years. Suddenly it seemed outright claustrophobic. He opened the door, and the limo driver, after recoiling slightly, picked up his bags and they left.
It was a long, quiet ride to O’Hare. There was so much he hadn’t seen in so long, but right now, none of it seemed important. It seemed like the road construction crews were working on the same parts of the same roads as the last time he was out. When they finally reached the airport, he tipped the driver, and also tipped a skycap to check his bags. Wheeling his chair to the check-in counter, he picked up his E-ticket and boarding pass. Airport security was ridiculous. Did they really think that he was hiding explosives in his shoes? Not that mattered. He couldn’t walk, anyway, what difference did it really make if he was wearing shoes? When he finally got through security, then he went to the gate, and they had to get a special wheelchair for him. Regular wheelchairs don’t fit down the aisle of a commercial airliner. He hadn’t realized when he left the house how much he would have to endure just to get on an airplane. Up until he arrived at the airport, he had thought his hardest time would be dealing with the outside. Now it looked like the airport might be the worst of it.
It was a long flight. He was hungry. When did they stop serving meals on long flights? It seemed like with the fare increases over the last ten years, there should have been more amenities on the flight, instead of less. There was satellite radio, but that really didn’t impress Ed much. Maybe if he had been traveling for pleasure, it would have been different. He really didn’t feel like listening to music, and radio talk shows even less.Eventually the captain came on the public address system, announcing that they would be landing soon. Ed hoped that getting off the plane wouldn’t be as bad as getting on it had been.
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