Chapter 3: Peanuts and Pigeons
1118 Words
“What you got under there? Are they dead?”
An older man was seated beside me, ironed khakis and a navy blue sweater, hand knitted after closer examination. His face was a friendly pile of wrinkled, dark splotched skin, but his eyes were as youthful as his once seventeen year old self, or so she imagined.
“No, they’re just sedated. Long trip for birds to take awake.”
He chuckled, stretching his seat belt cross his beer-belly. “Long trip for myself, yet alone you and a couple of birds. I didn’t even know they let pets onboard?”
“Long as they’re quiet.”
He clapped his hands onto his knees, wide awake this man was for it being 10 o’clock at night. “Ahh, I see. Oh, hey, Ma’am.” He called the attention of one of the passing stewardesses.
She turned, as eloquent as her pencil skirt would allow. “Yes, sir. How may I help?”
“Could I perhaps get a Ginger Ale with a pack of peanuts over here and, what da ya want?” His head turned towards me in all seriousness, his eyes awaiting a response.
“Oh, I’m fine, really. Thank you, though.”
He turned back to the woman. “Make that two Gingerales, then.”
The lady grinned through pursed lips. “I’ll get that at the soonest convenience. Let me just finish up here so we can take off. Deal?”
The old man returned her rosy gleam. “Perfect.”
An hour passed and the majority of the plane had drifted to sleep. But not Mr. Adamos, as I soon learned was his name. Really it was Arastoo Adamos, as his grandchildren includes Alexandro, Ajax, Alec, Sophia, Clollis, Colon, Daphne, Helena and Bart, respectively. But that was only those he was going to visit.
Who knew all it took was one hour before you could know a man’s entire back story. Meanwhile, my head started to weigh heavy and my eyes slowly tightened, sore from keeping them open.
If there was ever a time I needed caffeine, it would be now.
“And that is why Damon no longer talks with Dimitri. I will admit, while I don’t take sides, Damon was right. The feta didn’t taste right and there was no way he got the dining room set so cheap. Now way.”
“Aha.” I was so tired. Soooo tired. I would do anything to sleep, but at this point it’d just be rude. “By any chance, do you know a good place to get Baklava in Athens?”
His face lit up. “Oh, do I! If you take fourth street----”
By 1 am, I believe I knew every restaurant which served the syruppy, pistachio treat. He even welcomed me to his family home for dinner and desserts.
“Say, how old are you?”
It was probably 3 am, New York time. “16. Why?”
“Well I don’t know. Just not very often you see such a young girl with parrots on a plane by herself, halfway around the world.”
“That’s what I told my mom, but she wasn’t having it…..I’m going to live my father in Athens for a school program this year. And they’re Canaries, actually. Eros and Anteros I named them.”
“Oh, look at you. A little Greek girl, aren’t you? You know, I thought so. I can see it in your hair, I really can! And with the way you----”
By the time he actually dozed off, we had only a few hours left in the flight. But a few hours I was quite appreciative of.
Next thing I knew the clouds were rushing up and the ground appearing close. We were descending, the airplane’s front tires bouncing smoothly down the runway, squeaking as they first met the track.
The robotic voice of the female intercom sounded. “Welcome to Athens. Thank you for choosing us as your flight. You may exit, single filed through the first doors to your left.
Aside from being monstrously groggy, I was fine. The nervous twitch in my stomach had vanished, either by the aid of bottomless Ginger Ales or actual sleep. But landing proposed a new set of worries.
The step-ies.
That’s what I’m calling them at least.
“Hey, there she is!” The voice of a boy echoed through the wide airport exit. A flock of people flooded the area, but three stood out sorer than a thumb. “Over here!”
It was the voice of who I assumed was Aster, the boy supposedly slightly impaired. All I saw was a regular 17 year old guy, black pants, grey top and a mop of charcoal hair.
“There’s my girl! Look how gorgeous you are!” And beside him was my father.
Which left none other than the dreaded step-mother. “Hi there. Thea, right?”
I stopped, a good three feet away, not sure what to do. Do we hug? I don’t really want to hug? Shaking hands seems a bit cold. I’m just standing here. Like, how rude am I?
“Come here, Thea.” My father trapped me in his arms before I could answer her, his bear-like biceps squeezing the breath from my lungs. “Look how grown and mature you are! Here, let me take that for you, honey.”
He went to reach for Eros and Anteros’s cage, but I retracted as if by reflex. “No, it’s alright. I’ll hold onto them.”
“Okay, then let me take this then.” He seized the weight of my hand bag off my shoulder.
“Thanks.”
“Course, honey.” He squeezed me again with his one arm. “I’d like to introduce you to Ariana and your step-brother, Aster. Ariana...Aster? This is my beautiful daughter, Althea.”
“Hi.” I stupidly waved my hand. “You can call me Thea.”
Ariana smiled, flustered in the cheeks. “It’s so very nice to finally meet you, Thea. We’ve heard endless stories about you! Aster and I couldn’t wait to be part of your family.”
I wanted to gag. Sure you do. Or you know my dad has a great job.
Yet, I found my lips betrayed my true thoughts. “Me too.”
There was an awkward silence, at least for me, as we just stood there dumbly waiting for the next thing to say.
“Whelp, let's go find the rest of your luggage and head back. Shall we?”
The radio clock read 3:42 pm by the time we actually departed the airport parking lot. My suitcases crammed in the trunk of the car, Aster and I shoved together in the back seat. The heaviness of our tension caused an empty seat in the middle, each of us taking to either window, Eros and Anteros on my lap. They were finally stirring, the second dose I gave them halfway through the flight starting to wear off.
Their steadily increasing cooing soothed me. I had begun to worry that I overdosed them.
- Writer
