| Episode 006 | |
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Roots and Wings
The Boston roadways were packed with cars.
Horns littered the air with a perpetual din, filling the blue sky
with a constant cacophony of complaints.
In the city heat, the sidewalks baked.
Pedestrians made better time then the automobiles beside them as
they walked gingerly along.
A young woman stepped out from an alley.
With a dirty face, she looked up at the sky, her hands stuck in the
straps of a worn hiking backpack. Dressed
in cut-off jeans and a red flannel shirt over a grimy white tank top, her
blonde hair was done up in a bun while she carried a guitar case
nonchalantly.
She looked back behind her at a black-haired girl with darker skin,
who carried a school backpack that looked ready to bust open, and a
sleeping bag that dangled from a shoulder strap.
In jeans and a black over-shirt, she tried to smile.
“Come on, Amy,” the blonde girl said with a confident nod.
She started down the sidewalk.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Amy grumbled, her stomach making
a louder noise. She clamped
her hands over her narrow waist, then grinned comically wide.
“Sorry.” Her cohort smiled sympathetically.
“We’ll stop and get something fast before we head on.” “Head on where, Lisa?” Amy sighed with an
exhausted voice.
“The airport.”
Amy stood by the dumpster, keeping watch in the empty alley as
Lisa’s legs dangled over the side.
The sounds of cautious banging echoed against the brick walls as
Lisa kicked and fought against the metal bin.
“A-ha!” she finally announced.
With a kick, she dropped back onto her feet, holding two apples in
her hands. She tossed one to
Amy and slung her backpack onto her shoulders.
Amy considered the apple with delight, then bit into it.
She winced. “Oh,
their mushy.”
“Just means we have to chew less,” Lisa insisted
optimistically, biting into her own. She led the way out of the alley and turned the corner.
As Amy followed her out, there was a rush of noise.
The two girls stopped as a gust of wind cascaded against them.
They both looked up to the sky, covering their eyes as an airplane
descended to the tarmac not far from the café.
“I wish we could fly out of here,” Amy said wishfully.
“It’d be nice,” Lisa agreed.
The complex airport was crowded.
Cars and buses shoved their way through the narrow drives up along
the terminal. The parking lot wavered in heat trails while passengers
braved the heat to pass through into the terminal beyond.
Sitting in the shade at the passenger drop-off, Lisa and Amy leaned
against the cool stone wall of the airport.
On Amy’s sleeping bag, Lisa strummed her guitar, the case opened
to the people beyond. Inside
it, a few coins shimmered against the red velvet lining.
Amy stared at herself in the mirror, studying her face.
Marred from the exposure to the city, her high cheekbones stuck out
as prominently as her ribs. She
glanced up as several people walked by the two girls, none of them giving
pause.
Lisa looked up from her guitar and saw a few middle-aged men
approaching. She began to
strum cords from Stairway to Heaven, seeing the recognition in their eyes.
One man dropped a few coins. As
they passed, some college kids began to approach.
She switched to playing Master of Puppets.
One of the boys noted it, but did nothing more than smile.
“Why’d we come to the airport again?” Amy asked, still
studying her thin face.
“People are usually in a better mood at airports,” Lisa
answered, checking the tune of her guitar.
“If we go to a store or a mall or something, they’re defensive
of panhandlers.”
“They’ll be defensive here,” Amy said.
“They’ll think we’re terrorists.”
“No they won’t,” Lisa defied.
“Not if you show some cleavage and appeal to the guys’
nature.”
“What cleavage?” Amy gaped.
“I don’t have any boobs and neither do you.”
Lisa looked down her shirt. “Guess
you’re right.”
“We need to get something to eat,” Amy said.
“Something real.”
“We’ll get some money,” Lisa maintained optimistically.
“I know,” Amy lamented sadly, leaning back against the wall.
“I just, I don’t want to be here.
I want to go.”
Lisa smiled bitter-sweetly. “Go
where?” Amy didn’t respond. |
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