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“One meets destiny often on the road taken to avoid it.”

French Proverb

                The Boston highways were in gridlock.  The cars were held bumper-to-bumper all the way into and out of the airport.  Amongst some of the cars, a few bicycle couriers rushed about, but in the center of the lanes, the traffic held the limousine at a standstill.  Sitting in the back, a young man sat in a black suit with a thin tie.  His short hair was closely cropped while he stared intently, leaning on the door, a phone held to his ear.  “I seriously doubt it was anything of note,” he said with minor interest.  “Encounters like that are rarely anything more than random.”

                He leaned out to look down the line of traffic, then towards the airport.  He sat back.  “Yeah, my flight leaves in two hours, though it may take longer to get to the airport.”  He paused.  “Yeah, I’ll call you when we take off.”

                He hung up the phone, then reached to the controls on the side of the seat.  The barrier between him and the driver rolled down.  “Hey,” he called up.  “I’m going to just walk it.  I’ll miss my flight.”

                “Yes sir, Mr. Tolkien,” the driver said with a nod.

                The suited man collected his two bags, slinging his slim suitcase over his shoulder and carrying the briefcase in his left hand.  He slipped out of the limousine and began the hike down the crowded road.

                Amongst the cars, the sweltering heat from the Boston afternoon quickly became oppressive.  He moved towards the far side of the road, walking between the dividers and the cars parked in waiting.  Against the far side, the wind turned cooler, but still with a harsh red-hot edge.

                As he walked, he looked down at the street that was held above some of the city’s businesses.  He watched as the traffic beneath his feet flowed about freely and the people walked in the hot day.  He fixed himself ahead, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

                After a walk, he reached the edge of the terminal and paused.  He dropped his bags at the edge of the shade and took a moment to collect his breath.  As he did, he heard the solitary tunes of a Tom Waits song.  He looked up to see a pair of girls sitting on a sleeping bag, one of them playing a guitar.  The two girls looked high school age and as if they hadn’t seen a shower in a week.  He disregarded them and collected his bags.  He began to walk towards the entrance to the airport.

                As he neared the girls, he slowed.  He glanced down at the two, a thoughtful look coming over him.  He lingered for a breath, his presence and attention making Lisa and Amy both look up to take notice, as if disturbed by his passing.

                His attention to them lingered for just a moment, then he passed into the doors of the airport.  Lisa forgot about the song she was playing and glanced back at Amy.  She smiled suddenly.  “That was weird,” she said with a laugh.

                “Yeah,” Amy agreed, watching the door.  “Who was that?  He looked like a mobster or something.”

                “No way,” Lisa insisted.  “He was too good-looking.”

                “Mobsters can be good looking,” Amy insisted.

                “Only on the Sopranos,” Lisa argued.  She went back to her song, finishing off the final few notes.  She strummed them to completion, watching as the people who walked by dropped in a few more coins.  She leaned forward.  “How much have we got?”

                Amy leaned forward as well.  “Looks like maybe a buck twenty…”  She clammed up suddenly, making Lisa glance from her back to the door.

                Through the door came the suited man.  With his two bags, he walked with a purposeful gait.  But rather than staring off with a determined look, he focused on the two girls.  As the airport seemed to go strangely quiet and the crowds thinned, he moved around to stand in front of the two girls.  “Hello,” he said with a non-threatening tone.  He crouched down before the two girls.  “I’m Alex,” he said.

                Lisa and Amy looked at each other, then back to him.  “Hi,” Lisa said hesitantly.  “Would you like to make a request?” she said with a motion to her guitar.

                “My request is that you make a choice,” he said, reaching into his jacket pocket and producing a pair of airplane tickets.  “You two come with me.”

                Both girls hovered in disbelief for a moment, then they both smiled.  “You’re kidding, right?” Lisa laughed.

                But Alex stared at her.  “I’m not some weirdo and you’ll be safe.  But I need an answer.  Yes or no, right now.”

                “Go where?” Amy asked, looking mesmerized at the tickets.

                “Does it matter?” Alex said.  But before either girl could answer, he said “Paris, France.”

                “What’s in Paris?” Lisa asked.

                Alex looked to her.  “A future.”

                Lisa and Amy looked at each other, both with hesitant and fearful looks.

                The doors to the airport parted and Alex led the two inside.  The spanning airport shimmered with pristine glory.  About, dozens of people waited in lines, before the airport personnel or at the metal detectors.

                But Alex led the way beyond the lines.  Down past the last of the airline desks, Alex came to a small metal door with a keycard port on it.  He took a card out from his wallet and slid it down, causing a green light to illuminate.  He pushed the door open, stepping inside and holding the door for the two girls.

                Inside, a concrete hallway with a few hanging lights waited for them.  Lisa glanced about, then stood between Amy and Alex.  “What’s this about?”

                “We can talk as we walk, but we need to hurry,” Alex said, moving passed her and heading down the hallway.  “We’re late.”

                “Okay,” Lisa said, struggling to keep up with Alex as Amy trailed.  “What’s this about?”

                “I can’t tell you yet,” he insisted.

                “Why not,” she demanded.

                “Because,” he said, looking over his shoulder at her, “if I told you now, you’d try to leave and you’ve already made the commitment.”

                A line of passengers slowly shuffled through the concourse towards the waiting gate.  There, a uniformed woman accepted their tickets and scanned them methodically before handing them back.  The line moved along in an organized fashion, while the people waited patiently to board the giant plane just outside the window.

                On the far side of the concourse, a door opened.  Alex stepped out, holding the door for Lisa and Amy.  They looked out, amazed to find themselves inside of an airport.  They stared about, shocked, then looked at each other.  They shared the same amazed look, then turned to Alex.  He gave them a confident glance, then turned to the terminal and the plane beyond.  “Get your tickets ready,” he said, heading towards the gate.  “And I got dibs on the isle seat.”

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