Chapter VII - IS IT YOU, STACY KEACH?

I was thinking back on just days before, saying goodbye to my sister who lived in Spain, and to my mother, my grandmother, and good friends. Big hugs and tears, I lied about probably seeing each other soon again.

In a little bit more than an hour, I was going to land at JFK, New York Airport, I had never been in the US before and had no idea what to expect. I was anxious about the new beginnings but excited about seeing Patricia and my children again, five months no wife and children felt like an eternity.

“When you arrive in New York you just go buy a ticket to Baltimore, don’t worry, flying in the US is just like taking the bus in Holland; and then you phone me so I know when to pick you up, I will be driving a red Dodge station wagon”, were the instructions from Patricia.

With my Al Pacino English, I had learned English from TV and movies, I went to the first airport desk that I saw and asked for a ticket to Baltimore. “Twenty-nine dollars sir”. “Where do I walk to?”. “You can’t walk, you have to take a cab sir”. “Why, is it on another airport?” No sir, JFK is huge, everything in the US is big. Trust me, you have to take a taxi“ “Terminal C”

“To terminal C please”, “No hablo Ingles” “OK, terminal C por favor”. In terminal C I found my flight, the flight attendant was a spitting image of Stacy Keach whom I didn’t see on the screen for a while, and for a minute I thought that he had a side job in between movies. I asked Stacy if I had time to make a phone call and where I could do that. I quickly went to change some dollars into quarters and ran to the phone booth. At every attempt to dial Patricia’s phone number, some voice started talking and I had no idea about what. Ask for help, how to stop a New Yorker? The New Yorker dialed my number and explained to me that I had to insert more quarters. “I am in New York and my plane leaves in five minutes”, “OK, see you there”

I ran back to the gate where I arrived a few minutes late, “you are late”, said Stacy but I could go to my seat, the plane looked pre-WW2, with wooden seats and propellers. The door closed immediately and Stacy addressed the passengers: “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard, we have a delay of five minutes, but we will try to arrive in time in Baltimore” which made almost all the passengers turn their heads towards me to give me the angry stare.

When I walked out of the airport Patricia was already waiting for me, leaning at her old red Dodge station wagon, and she brought me home.

To be continued.....