| |
Keri
The airport was crowded when we walked into the arrivals hall. Not surprising as it was only four days before Christmas. On the electronic board the list of planes that had just landed included Jess’s plane. Air New Zealand flight 5616 from LA. Dad and I moved closer to the rail that separated us from those arriving, but we kept getting pushed out the way by other excited adults and children. It was mayhem in there.
We moved to the stairwell behind us and stood on a step slightly higher than the other people’s heads. From there we had a much better view. In front of us, behind the waiting crowd, other travelers rushed past pulling suitcases or pushing trolleys, dragging children, or letting them ride on the top of the piled luggage. It was fun to watch. But my main focus was on the doors ahead of us as they opened and closed for each group exiting the customs hall.
Gradually, Jess’s flight number crawled up the arrivals board and at last the sign told me her plane had unloaded and that they were clearing customs. The place had not cleared out much, as three more planes had landed since we arrived, and I very nearly missed seeing Jess and her family come through security. Her grandparents were there to meet her as well, and there was a lot of hugging and laughing going on when we finally pushed our way through the throng to greet my best friend and her family.
Jess had grown! She was at least 50cm taller than me. She saw me and her eyes grew wide with surprise.
“Keri,” she screamed. She threw her bag down and flung her arms around me. “How did you know when we were coming?”
“Talked to your nana!” I grinned. “We’ve come to help with transport.”
“That’s fantastic! There’s so much to tell you, oh, it is good to be home. Soon as I heard that accent on the plane, I knew it was real.”
Dad and I gave the rest of the family welcome-home hugs, and we made our way slowly to the exit. Her little sister Pippa wasn’t little anymore. She’d gone from a seven-year-old in braids to a nine-year-old in a crop top and sneakers. Two years in New York had changed her too.
“Nicky won’t recognise you,” I teased her. “You look like a teenager instead of his best tomboy friend.”
She frowned at me a little. “Does he still climb trees? I haven’t climbed a tree since we left here.”
“He does,” I assured her. “But not much now. He missed you and then William went missing and now he’s even more quiet. Maybe you can wake him up a bit.”
Her eyes gleamed. “Yeah! That’s what I’ll do. Wake him up!”
Her mum stopped outside the doors and breathed in deeply. “That smell,” she said. “I know it’s car fumes too, but I can still smell the green and the sea and the summer.”
Dad and I grinned at each other. That’s what he’d said to me as we were driving in. He remembered having the same reaction when he came back from working in England when he was young. We moved slowly to the cars pushing two trolleys piled with teetering luggage, talking non-stop across each other. By the time we had stowed all the bags and cases in the cars there was barely room for the people, but finally, with bags on laps and under feet, we started a two-car convoy back to our suburb.
In the back seat, Jess swung her head from side to side. As it was, she swung her head from side to side, taking in all the changes and chatting away furiously.
“You wouldn’t believe what it was like,” she said. “It was sooo different to schools here – no playing fields, security everywhere, passes to get out of the classroom to go to the loo, you have no idea. I’m just happy to be home. It’s been a loooong two years.”
“Yeah, but we were at intermediate school when you left. High school is a bit different. It’s a lot more disciplined,” I said.
“No way, can’t be as bad as where I’ve been. Oh look, a pohutukawa in bloom! Now I know I’m home.”
“Just in time for Christmas, summer, holidays and the beaches.”
“Yes! Beaches. I’ve not seen the sea since we left. Rivers, inlets, lakes, but not a good surf beach. Dad says he’s going to resurrect his surfboard. He never surfed before we went, so I don’t know why he would think he would now. Silly man,” she said affectionately. “Oh,” she said, as we came into our town’s main street. “Can we go and look at the old school before we go home?”
Dad obediently turned at the next intersection and drove around the block to our old school.
“There it is,” she said. “Look at that lovely green field, and the trees and gardens and the play area and the netball courts. I wonder if I’ll be any good at netball anymore.”
“You haven’t played?” I asked.
“Nope, we played basketball in the gyms a few times, but not netball. Okay, we can go now. Thanks, Mr Walker. I have no idea what our house is going to look like. We’ve got to get heaps of stuff out of storage, and the agent told Mum that there is a bit of damage, and the garden needs work. I don’t think she’ll mind. She’s been so bored sine we moved over there. Oh, there’s your house, and there’s your brothers outside. How cool is that. And there’s your mum waving.”
I couldn’t help laughing at her excitement. I was pretty excited myself to have her home again. I had been very lonely when she first went away. It had been the worst year of my life. Then Mereana came along. I felt a twinge of anxiety as I thought about whether Jess and Mereana would get on. Jess had been my best friend since we started school in year one, then Mereana was my best friend since Jess went away. Now she was back. I suspected there might be problems ahead.
We pulled up behind her grandparents’ car and started pulling the suitcases out of the back. Along the road I saw Mum and the boys. Mum was carrying something in a bag. The boys ran the rest of the way, then stopped. I guessed they were both shy. William had only been three when they left and now he was a big boy at school. Nicky still suffered from anxiety and he held back as Mum greeted Jess’s parents.
“Jason, nice to have you back, and Sue,” she gave Jess’s mum a big hug. “We have missed you! So glad you are home.”
“Oh, my,” Jess’s mum said. “Look at your boys! How you have both grown. I can’t believe it. Pippa, look, here’s Nicky.”
They had been best friends before the family moved to New York, but they looked warily at each other.
“Remember what I said?” I nudged Pippa.
“Oh yeah.” She stepped forward to Nicky, tagged him on the arm, and ran, calling back, “Bet I can climb the tree to the top now!”
Nicky may have become quiet and anxious recently, but he was up to a challenge from a girl.
We raggle taggled into the house and put suitcases into each room.
“Don’t worry too much, I’ll get it all later,” Mrs Reid said. “I just want to look around and take it all in.”
“I’ll make some afternoon tea for us all,” Mum said, “and I’ve got some groceries at home for you. I’ll drive them down later.”
“You are wonderful,” Jess’s nana said. “I’ve bought a few things, but to be honest, I don’t like going to the supermarket anymore. Very crowded and very expensive.”
“Yes, it certainly is,” Mum agreed. “Let’s do this together. Isn’t it nice to have them back?”
Jess and I wandered outside after we’d had a look at her bedroom (not too bad) and the lounge (a bit scuffed and the carpet needed cleaning) it was a jungle out there.
“I don’t know whether to laugh or cry,” her mum said. “It’s such a horrible mess, but I am very happy to have something to get stuck into.”
“Come on, let’s go down the back and see if our hiding place is still there.”
Giggling like five-year-olds instead of fifteen-year-olds we ran through the long grass, around the back of the garden shed, through the hole in the fence and into the wasteland where years ago we had constructed a kind of a shelter from old roofing iron and branches and a bit of discarded canvas for a roof. It was still there, but the branches were decayed, the canvas fell to pieces in our hands and the tin was full of rust holes. We lay down in the long grass beside the hut and basked in the warmth of the early summer sun.