Created: 2024-05-13 13:58 | Updated: 2024-05-18 19:56 | Source: mobile.iphone
But Florence was not ok. The phone call was a jolt to her soul. She sank to her knees inside that phone booth. She had just confessed away the last bits of her pride and dignity. The momentary hope that this blind conversation would save her soul and clear her heart was all but a fallacy. And so with her last shred of faith, she gripped, no, she clung on to that phone cord and recounted her own prayer.
"I will not quit. I will not quit. I will not quit."
Faye's voice faintly called out to her best friend from the receiver, "Florence? Oh sweetie what are you doing?" Florence gave no response.
"I will not quit. I will not quit. I will not quit." Florence continued.
"Why are you repeating yourself?" Faye raised her voice, but Florence didn't respond.
"I will not quit. I will not quit. I will not quit."
"Florence? You're scaring me....Florence!" Faye's voice screamed though the handset.
"I will not quit!"
BANG!
The phone booth door swung open. The man in the business suit had returned.
"For the last time, would you please get out of this phone booth so I can make a call."
[The man in the business suit was right. She would not let her circumstances define her. And so, she severed her identity in a manner that could only be described as umbilical. She would no longer be known as the defeated valedictorian turned college dropout all because of a bad cake.]
Florence scrambled to her feet, slammed the lid on her butterscotch yellow overnight case, shoved the man out of the way and stormed off down the path of the curved wall.
[Who is who is? Who is the security officer for the police officer working security that that day? Why is Florence nervous about her butterscotch yellow overnight case? What does hijacking have to do with this part of the story?]
Then she picked up the pace. "Oh look what you've done Florence!" she said angrily to herself. "Now you've caused a scene." She was moving faster now. She was almost at a running pace when she turned her head around to see if anyone was staring at her.
"Hold on there," came a gruff voice. Florence felt a hand grab her by the shoulder. She turned around. An officer was looking at her with an uninterested but curious expression. "I can't let you pass." He pointed to a sign that read "ALL PASSENGERS MUST WILL BE SCREENED BEFORE BOARDING THE AIRCRAFT. AIRCRAFT HIJACKING IS A FEDERAL CRIME PUNISHABLE BY DEATH. CARRYING CONCEALED WEAPONS ABOARD AIRCRAFT IS PUNISHABLE BY PRISON SENTENCES & FINES."
Florence stepped back from the officer, paused, and looked back at the phone booth and then at the ticketing desk. Perhaps now was the time to tell the truth. "But I'm not a passenger you see I'm…"
The officer didn't let her finish. "Doesn't matter Miss. Everyone who wants to go THAT way." His meaty hand pointed down the hallway leading to the gates. "That means all friends and family of passengers. Everyone must be screened. Say your goodbyes now or get in line." His meaty hand moved from her shoulder and pointed towards the crowd lining up at the noisy metal detectors.
Florence soberly walked passed a group of travelers queueing up behind a red velvet rope. Her eyes caught the rope and she was instantly taken back to the night before. It was he opening night of 'Last Tango in Paris," the night she had to fill in for Doris at the movie theater because she left early with the manager, the night she had to clean auditoriums 1 and 2 while the creepy assistant manager, Lizard-faced Leon watched her like a Hollywood stalker.
Later that evening, Leon would insist on walking her home.
Later that evening, Florence would order Leon to leave.
Later that evening, Florence showed Leon her mother's gun.
"Miss?" a hand touched her arm.
Florence jumped in surprise. She was holding up the line.
"You can put your bag on the belt now." A female security agent stood in front of her. She motioned to the X-ray machine.
Florence felt her heart trying to escape out of her chest.
"Don't worry dear, your bag will be waiting for you on the other side."
Florence clumsily placed her butterscotch yellow overnight case on the conveyer belt's edge and it fell to the floor. The lid flew open upon impact. Florence's personal effects went sliding across the white limestone floor.
"Oh dear. Let me help you with that," said the agent.
Florence silently watched as the agent picked up her postcards, Timex watch and valedictorian speech off the floor."
"First time flying?" asked the agent as she packed the butterscotch yellow overnight case, closed the lid and placed it on the X-Ray scanner's conveyor belt.
"I...uh. I... I've never flown before." Florence smiled nervously.
The agent put her hand on Florence's shoulder. "Don't worry Dear. Just follow me."
The agent walked Florence to the metal detector and stopped the line.
"Here you go dear. Just walk through here and collect your bag right over there."
Florence passed silently through the rectangular gate. The agent waved and smiled and moved on to assist other travelers.