“Oh my word would you look what the cat dragged in!”  Mary Ellen gasped as she tapped Jeanette's hand. 

She'd pack a library book and lunch in her favorite butterscotch yellow overnight case.  She would hop on the number 44 go across town to Washington Avenue.  From there, she'd take the number 29, then the 56 and finally the number 128 to the airport.  Upon entering the terminal, she'd head straight to the ticket counter and inquire about the current fares to New York City, London, Paris and several other destinations she had memorized on the bus ride over. 

When she finished her ticket inquiry, she'd stroll through the terminal taking in the scene of arriving and departing travelers, waiting friends and family, eager-to-please drivers, pilots and stewardesses in tow.

After a few pages into the book she noticed a small shoulder bag on the seat next to hers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, unfortunately TWA flight 241 to St Louis has been canceled.”

This was going to be her first flight.  And now it’s canceled.  Florence sat there motionless, shocked and frustrated.

She turned back to the bag.  For some reason, it seemed to distract her and ease her anger and frustration.

“Whose bag is that?  Should I find its owner?Aren’t they looking for it?” These questions and more flooded her thoughts.

Suddenly a little boy walked up and opened the it.  His eyes widened and a big grin came over his face as he pulled out a shiny metallic rectangle.  It was covered in tan leather on its top and bottom.  He then unfolded it and revealed a camera.  Yes it was just like the one she saw on the television. 

A woman came from out of nowhere, ran up to the boy and took the camera away from him.  “Now Dennis what did I tell you about touching other people’s things!” Her face grew red as she looked up at Florence.  “I’m so sorry.  He doesn’t usually act like this.”  She held out the camera and waited for Florence to take it.

Florence paused and wondered if her face was just as red as this woman’s.  She looked around.  No one was paying them any attention.  So she reached out awkwardly and took the camera.

“Take my picture! Take my picture. Take my picture.” Dennis chanted the words while clapping his hands and jumping up and down.

“Now Dennis you leave this young lady alone.”  The boy’s mother pulled him by the arm and walked off.

The mechanical gears whirred as the camera ejected a square plastic card.  The boy instantly grabbed the photo and put it in his pocket. My dad says you have to wait 10 minutes before you can look at it.

Florence got up and walked over to the large window overlooking the planes. She pointed the camera at the tail fan and took another photo. But this time nothing came out. Period.

You have to put more film in. Set the boy.

Florence looked through the bag and found another pack of film. However, she realized she had to do something about her flight. She gathered up her thing and was on her way to the ticket counter when she heard the little boy.

This isn’t my photo. Where is my photo?

The boy was handing her the photo in frustration like it was a toy. He didn’t want to play with. Florence stared at it. That’s odd she said to herself.

My dad says this happens when the camera jammed. Said the little boy.

Florence ignored him.