Alive

"Nothing good about airports.", Carol thought, "Nothing!" She glanced up at the schedules. At least her relay to Sydney, Flight A16, was leaving on time. So much 'clock drama' in airports, Carol thought, who needs it? Restless, her mind wandered about- twenty more minutes to kill. She chuckled softly to herself. That's always been a funny phrase, "killing time". Why do we say that, Carol wondered, time isn't alive. Is it? "Excuse me, do you have the time?" The voice startled Carol out of her thoughts. Turning around, there was a man standing there, but not too close. Funny, she didn't see anyone walk over. In an instant Carol noticed he was stunningly handsome, impeccably dressed in black suit, lush lavender tie. His face, serenely calm, his smile disarming. Carol had to focus. "The time?", she repeated, but that too she thought an odd question, airport clocks everywhere you look. "It's 11:35. Is your phone dead?" The man was silent a full three, uncomfortable seconds. "I don't have a phone.", he finally replied. "There's no one to call." There was something unusual, something magnetic and familiar about this man's speech, the tone and cadence, like there was a certain unique echo, even in the noisy terminal. Carol felt her thoughts pounding like a heartbeat, glancing up at the flight board again. "You should come with me." He said it so serenely, no threat, an invitation like it all made perfect sense. "But, what? Where? I don't even.." "Borneo. The jungles. There's a certain waterfall. I'm going there." Carol felt as if she was being swept away, what wa happening? She heard herself speak, "You have someone to call there?" Why did she even ask that? Jungle? In a suit? Her mind was whirling. "No. No one. That's why you should come." He was serious.  Carol couldn't think. Why did she so want to go with this stranger, this man, it made no sense. She laughed nervously. "But, I can't, too late anyway.." "Your ticket is already changed. Look.", the man said, still smiling. Carol looked at her ticket: it read 'Borneo'. What? How? Carol jumped up from the bench, at the same instant a speaker nearby crackled out, "international Flight A16, boarding, Gate 12." Without looking back, Carol suddenly fast-walked to her departing terminal a hundred feet away, glancing fearfully at her boarding pass again- 'Sydney.' Wow, okay. What the hell, she thought: my eyes must have played tricks for a moment, ha! What was THAT about? Nothing good about airports, Carol remembered. Nothing.