The cab slips into an empty spot along the curb. I look up to see three letters that will take me far far away from this place: LAX
"Hurry up!" I say to Consuela who takes her sweet time sliding out of the passenger seat. The cab driver has gone around the to the back of the cab to pull my bags out of the trunk.
Consuela stands on the sidewalk in her Dollar Store slippers re-adjusting her scrunchie. It's a humid day and her hair has lots of fly-aways.
"Thanks," I say to the cab driver and hand him some cash. He doesn't smile at me. No one has smiled at me in the last few days. No one wants to smile at a zombie.
I enter into the terminal, and proceed up the escalator to the gates for home. Just a few security checks from now I will be on a plane headed far far away from here. I've left behind everything that reminds me of Deandra...
I can't even think about her without the tears welling in the bottom of my eyes. I try to hold them back as I go through customs. I don't want any hassles. I just want to clear it, so I can be on that plane.
I proceed towards the line that the customs officer gestures me to, and begin to slip off my shoes. My feet are stark white. I haven't eaten in days. I throw my laptop into one of the containers on the conveyor along with my purse. Consuela places her Dollar Store slippers in a container along with her straw banana bag. She is being blessedly non-annoying, and I am very grateful for her silent support.
I put my boarding pass in my mouth as I walk through the metal detector. I stretch out my arms as the customs official wands me down. They recognize the sorrow in my face, but graciously they don't ask me the words that seem to create a spontaneous eruption of tears: Are you ok?
A moment later I am at my gate. I take a seat in one of the chairs. Consuela sits across from me and pulls out one of her Spanish translations of a Joel Osteen novel. The plane will be boarding soon.
And, I hope, as I move further and further away from everything that reminds me of what has happened -- I hope that I will feel better. Because, right now, I don't know if I will ever shake this half-catatonic zombie-like state that allows me to move from A to B.
