013 POV - Prep/call/call to adventure 1495

Motivation and confidence are key to a successful life and business. The unmotivated, unconfident person fears failure, and never truly believing in the possibility of their own success spends their life wallowing in remedial work and doomed business ventures...

I listen to a business studies seminar on my cell through in-ear earphones as I finish up the last of the prep for the breakfast shift. I've made it a habit to record every class. I like to re-listen to the lectures as I find that I miss a lot of important information the first time around. I'm what they call dyslexic. I wasn't diagnosed until I was in the latter years of high school, by which stage I feel my formal education was beyond saving. As an adult, I've since found that I learn much better visually than aurally. If you sit me in a room with someone talking at me for an hour or more I have a tendency to drift off after about five minutes. I guess these days it would be diagnosed as ADHD for which a slew of performance enhancing mediations would be prescribed. I've never understood this approach. Why pump children full of drugs to make them pay attention? Wouldn't it be better to make the education more engaging, relevant and interesting. Wouldn't it be helpful to acknowledge that not all people learn in the same ways and at the same rate? If it were up to me I'd break learning into smaller chunks and take a more active, hands on approach. I googled it the other day, and according to what information I could find, America ranks number fourteen in the world for higher education achievement. Which doesn't sound too bad, but when you figure that there are developing nations ahead of us, and we're supposedly the richest nation in the history of the world, it shows a certain lacking in our education methods. 

As I tie up a full trash bag ready to take outside, my cell phone rings. This time the personalised ringtone plays the classic James Bond theme. This is not a ringtone I hear very often. It's Vincent calling, Lucy's father. Again, Lucy set this ringtone last time she was with me. Vincent makes it a point to keep our communications to an absolute minimum, but every now and then he'll call briefly to tell me about some major event in Lucy's life of which he figures he has a parental obligation to inform me.

I notice my hand starts to shake a little and a slight tension constricts my body. I answer with an artificially happy tone in my voice to try and counter my nerves. 

"You're the ninth caller on the hour, name the song to win the prize."

There's a beat of silence on the other end, where I can imagine Vincent cringing at this. He then says, "Not in the mood Susan, I haven't had my morning caffeine hit and I'm in a rush to make two flights."

"Sounds biologically impossible, or have you cloned yourself?" I quip back, and immediately regret doing so. When we first met, Vincent said he loved my sense of humor, but now he's grown to hate it. 

"One flight for me, one for our daughter, or have you forgotten? Again." 

Vincent really hammered home the word 'again'. It has the desired effect as I find myself immediately humbled. It's amazing how one word spoken with the just the right intonation has the power to shatter your confidence. 

"I haven't forgotten. Lucy phoned me earlier to remind me, but she needn't have as her arrival day and time are marked on a giant countdown calendar on my fridge at home." I say meekly. Wishing I hadn't let him know just how important this visit from my daughter is to me. I hate it when he knows my weaknesses as he has a tendency to hone in on them and exploit them. 

"Lucy's plane gets in at--"

"--Five forty seven am. I know. My memory's not how it used to be, okay. Come hell or high water I'll be there to pick her up."

"Well, excuse me for reminding you. Countless times I have needed to and even then you fell through."

He lets that hang. I don't bite. I don't reply. He's right. In my past I let Lucy down. I let him down. I let myself down. But for the last year and some I haven't erred from my new path. 

"I don't have to legally let her see you, you know that. I'm doing this because I think it's in her best interest she has some sort of a relationship with her mother."

That really hits me hard. And he's right. I have no legal visitation rights. It is entirely up to Vincent when and how long I get to see my daughter. That he finally agreed to let her fly to New Jersey to stay with me for Christmas is nothing short of a miracle. Albeit a short miracle. Lucy is only with me for a week, but I'll take any time I can get with her. 

An announcement plays over the airport PA system in the background. Vincent listens to it then says, "That's Lucy's flight. We gotta go."

"Okay, can I quickly speak with her?"

"You've got thirty seconds."

There's a muffled sound at the other end as he passes the cell to Lucy.

"Mum!"

"Hey little one! How's my girl?"

"Tired, but excellent."

"Good to hear. You must be excited to be flying by yourself?"

"Mum, come on, it's no big deal, I'm eleven, I'm basically an adult."

From the mouths of babes. That makes me smile.

"Indeed you are. I just wanted to wish you a safe and fun flight and to say I'll see you at the airport at five forty seven am."

"Thanks, I can't wait to see you."

"Me too. Love you loads."

"Love you too."

With that, Lucy hands the phone back to her father.

"I'd better go if I'm gonna get her on this flight."

"Go, I will be there to pick her up. You can rely on me."

"I certainly hope so."

Vincent pauses and I think maybe that's where the conversation will end, but then he adds, speaking in a whisper, perhaps so Lucy doesn't hear, "If you mess this up, I'll make sure you never see her again. Do you understand?"

That hits like a sucker punch to the gut. I find the wind taken out of me to such an extent that I can only nod. 

"I didn't hear you? Do you understand me Susan? I'm taking a chance on you. Are you going to let us down, again?"

This time I manage to say, "No. You're not. I will be there."

"For your sake, I certainly hope so."

And that's where he ends the call. No goodbye, happy travels, stay well, be safe. Just, bam, gone.

The kitchen wall clock says it's just gone midnight and as far as clocks go, it's fairly reliable so I believe it.  That makes it roughly nine PM in Vegas. With any luck, Lucy will sleep on the plane and land somewhat refreshed. She doesn't do well when she hasn't had a good night's sleep. Mind you, who does? 

I take my earphones out of ears and wrap them around my cell. One of these days I'm going to upgrade my life to that of the wireless earphones class. I had intended to buy myself a set as a Christmas gift to myself this year, but I ended up spending all my savings on presents and extra Christmas food for Lucy. I pocket my cell and earphones, grab my restaurant keys, cast a final glance over everything. All set for breakfast shift. I grab the last bag of trash, set the alarm on my way out and step into the frozen night air.

It's so cold out here my breath plumes silver clouds as I walk from the restaurant back to the dumpster and my car. Just as I hurl the bag of trash in, I hear the sound of a window shattering somewhere above me. 

I turn quickly and look up at the adjacent building to see a man dive through an already broken window onto a third level fire landing. He stumbles to his feet, picks up a large black briefcase that I assume he threw through the pane of glass before he hurled himself through, and hurries toward the fire stairs. He only makes it halfway down when I hear the pop, pop, pop, of what I think are gun shots fired from a silenced gun. The man collapses and drops the black briefcase. It tumbles over the edge of the fire stairs and lands with a thud only a few feet away from me. 

A second man, much taller and heavier, dressed in a body length winter jacket climbs through the broken window onto the fire landing. He quickly approaches the fallen man and Pop! Pop! He shoots him twice in the head.

I'm so shocked by this that I involuntarily gasp. My sudden breath is loud enough for the second man to hear. He looks down at me watching him. We lock eyes for a moment, neither moving for a fraction of a second that lasts an eternity. He then raises his gun and aims at me.