Herr Drosselmeier
February 11th, 2009, 02:29 AM
Balance
The teenager turned her attention inward. “I’m developing unevenly. I’ve visited lots of places and seen many things that most people my age have not experienced. I’ve worked hard and faced responsibilities. I know what it is to feel my heart. In some ways I’m an adult, but in some ways I’m a baby. I never paid a bill. I’ve never gone anywhere by myself.” “Dad! Where are you? Where’s Mom? We have to talk.”
An hour-long discussion commenced. “Safety.” That word came up a lot. “Growth.” That was heard often. An offer of a trial run with Ron was rejected. “Please.” In the end an agreement was hammered out. A plane trip to Seattle. One night sleeping at a cousin’s house and a flight back the next morning. She could make all arrangements by herself, but her parents were to be granted full privilege of review and veto, and, of course, phone calls at arrivals and departures. She hugged her Dad around his neck, kissed her Mom between the eyes and danced to her bedroom.
When the taxi arrived, she had a moment of doubt, a small knot in her stomach. As she walked down the driveway, her suitcase felt heavy. She rolled down the rear window of the cab, reassuring herself and her parents, “It’s only one day. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Once underway, excitement replaced uncertainty. Scenes that passed were vivid, yet suffused with a dreamlike quality. The couple sitting closely in the coffee shop booth. The workman in bib-overalls jack-hammering the pavement. A group of three children, running while holding hands.
Paying the driver, checking her bag and finding the loading gate passed in a blur. She had seen it done many times; it was not really new to her. Still, she felt her heart beating.
She boarded the airplane, and found her seat. He was already in his seat, next to hers.
She beamed and spoke first. “Hi, I guess we’re seatmates.”
He grinned back, “Do you think you can handle it for four hours?”
“Four and a half,” she countered.
“Aren’t you a bit young to be traveling alone?”
“Hmm, I have a friend who does it all the time.”
“Is this your first flight alone?”
She paused to collect her thoughts, to decide if she might be revealing too much about herself to a stranger. “Well, I’m not alone – there’s tons of people on the plane with me.”
“Indeed, tons. But, the thing is, how do you know if they are with you or against you?”
Again, she paused to collect her thoughts. She tried to understand the intent of his statement. What did he mean, against her? She turned her head sideways but peered at him intently out of the corners of her eyes, as if she was assessing his character.
She made a decision and replied, “They are with me.”
They remained silent for a while, busying themselves with settling-in; buckling seatbelts, adjusting the window shade and checking out the magazines.
As they accelerated and took flight, he glanced over at her. She was smiling.
The teenager turned her attention inward. “I’m developing unevenly. I’ve visited lots of places and seen many things that most people my age have not experienced. I’ve worked hard and faced responsibilities. I know what it is to feel my heart. In some ways I’m an adult, but in some ways I’m a baby. I never paid a bill. I’ve never gone anywhere by myself.” “Dad! Where are you? Where’s Mom? We have to talk.”
An hour-long discussion commenced. “Safety.” That word came up a lot. “Growth.” That was heard often. An offer of a trial run with Ron was rejected. “Please.” In the end an agreement was hammered out. A plane trip to Seattle. One night sleeping at a cousin’s house and a flight back the next morning. She could make all arrangements by herself, but her parents were to be granted full privilege of review and veto, and, of course, phone calls at arrivals and departures. She hugged her Dad around his neck, kissed her Mom between the eyes and danced to her bedroom.
When the taxi arrived, she had a moment of doubt, a small knot in her stomach. As she walked down the driveway, her suitcase felt heavy. She rolled down the rear window of the cab, reassuring herself and her parents, “It’s only one day. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Once underway, excitement replaced uncertainty. Scenes that passed were vivid, yet suffused with a dreamlike quality. The couple sitting closely in the coffee shop booth. The workman in bib-overalls jack-hammering the pavement. A group of three children, running while holding hands.
Paying the driver, checking her bag and finding the loading gate passed in a blur. She had seen it done many times; it was not really new to her. Still, she felt her heart beating.
She boarded the airplane, and found her seat. He was already in his seat, next to hers.
She beamed and spoke first. “Hi, I guess we’re seatmates.”
He grinned back, “Do you think you can handle it for four hours?”
“Four and a half,” she countered.
“Aren’t you a bit young to be traveling alone?”
“Hmm, I have a friend who does it all the time.”
“Is this your first flight alone?”
She paused to collect her thoughts, to decide if she might be revealing too much about herself to a stranger. “Well, I’m not alone – there’s tons of people on the plane with me.”
“Indeed, tons. But, the thing is, how do you know if they are with you or against you?”
Again, she paused to collect her thoughts. She tried to understand the intent of his statement. What did he mean, against her? She turned her head sideways but peered at him intently out of the corners of her eyes, as if she was assessing his character.
She made a decision and replied, “They are with me.”
They remained silent for a while, busying themselves with settling-in; buckling seatbelts, adjusting the window shade and checking out the magazines.
As they accelerated and took flight, he glanced over at her. She was smiling.