With only hand luggage, Kenneth led Sean and Kathy from the Immigration Desk towards the Customs Hall. Another flight had landed just before theirs, so there was a large crowd of people assembled, who were waiting for and picking up luggage from the luggage carousel. They skirted the crowd and headed towards the Customs desks. Kenneth paused briefly, scanning the room. He groaned. There were long lines leading to all the desks. Kenneth looked inquiringly at Sean. He nodded towards the middle of the room, so they moved in that direction and joined a line that was almost in the centre of the room. For some time while they waited, they did not speak, but instead they each stood looking around the large room, like meerkats. The Customs Hall was a high-ceilinged cream-coloured room. All around the expansive rectangular room, there were large windows close to the ceiling, allowing generous doses of sunlight into the room. Air-conditioning units positioned below these windows laboured to cool the large expanse, and provided a consistent hum of background noise, adding to the din of the excited adults and children.
Occasionally a police officer would enter the Customs Hall, and Kenneth, Sean and Kathy would watch the officer around the room until he left. On one such occasion, while Kathy was following the movements of a police officer, she noticed out of the corner of her eye a little boy staring in her direction. He looked to be about ten or twelve years old, wearing a blue New York Yankees baseball cap backwards, a Derek Jeter shirt and a pair of black Air Jordan Nike high-tops. He was intently watching Kenneth. The little boy had a frown on his face as he watched Kenneth, and his frown grew deeper as his gaze followed Kenneth’s to the police officer. Kathy watched in horror as the little boy started to tug at his father’s shirt, while still maintaining his gaze on Kenneth. Kathy’s stomach sank, and she suddenly became aware of beads of perspiration rolling down the pit of her back. Kathy tried to appear casual as she took a step closer to Kenneth and Sean. Both were still watching the police officer as he walked through the passageway leading from the Customs Hall towards the Immigration desks.
The boy was now hitting his father on the arm trying to get his attention, and the father started to notice his son’s harassment. Kathy stepped between Kenneth and Sean, blocking their view of the police officer, and calmly turned her back on the boy, while facing Kenneth and Sean. They both had confused looks on their faces.
‘What’s up?’ Kenneth asked, as he leaned to the right, trying to look around Kathy and follow the progress of the retreating police officer.
Kathy matched his movement. She smiled at Kenneth and Sean, and said quietly, ‘You guys may want to be less obvious in your interest in police officers. It has attracted the attention of a little boy who is trying to inform his father of a suspicious group of people who are watching policemen.’ Kenneth started to look around. ‘Don’t look for him! It will be obvious that we are talking about him. Laugh as though I had told you a good joke.’ Kenneth and Sean looked quizzically at Kathy. Through clenched teeth and a forced smile Kathy said, ‘Laugh!’
Kenneth slapped Kathy on the shoulder, threw back his head and roared a gut-busting laugh. ‘Wha’ yu sey? Caan true. Tell mi a nu so,’ he said on the top of his voice.
‘Him do what?’ Sean exclaimed, and bent over in laughter.
‘Is true! Is true!’ Kathy exclaimed. ‘Mi never see nuting like it.’
Now everyone was watching them. The father of the small boy looked over at the attention-seeking threesome and clipped him around the ear, chastised his son, and turned back to his conversation.
It took another half an hour for Kenneth, Sean and Kathy to get to the front of their line. They watched as the Customs Officer for their line, a slender young man who looked very officious in the white shirt and black trousers uniform, have a very amiable conversation with a middle-aged lady with a strong head of styled white hair, wearing a dark blue business dress suit. The lady removed the jacket of the suit, revealing a white silk camisole, while she continued her discussion with the Customs Officer. They both chuckled, apparently at some joke as the woman leisurely handed over her customs form. The officer stamped her form and she left the desk without opening her bags.
Kenneth approached the desk when he was called. He couldn’t help noticing a heavy-set woman dragging two bulging duffel bags towards the neighbouring desk. She struggled to place the bags on the stainless steel surface of a bench that extended from the Customs Officer’s desk. A brief exchange resulted in her wrestling with the zipper on one of the bags. It was not long before there was a volcanic eruption of shoes from the bag. Shoes were falling everywhere. The heavy-set woman was scrambling to collect the shoes on the floor, as the Customs Officer stood watching, with a bored expression on his face.
‘Hello Mr. Johnson. You are coming in from Orlando?’
Kenneth looked at his Customs Officer with a blank expression, and looked back at the shoe flow at the neighbouring desk.
‘Mr. Johnson. Did you hear me? Mr. Johnson?’
‘Sorry. I was a little distracted. Yes, Orlando.’
The officer turned and looked at the shoe scene and chuckled, ‘Common occurrence. A higgler bringing in her wares. They are not supposed to bring their goods via personal luggage, but ship them via air cargo instead. The problem is it takes at least a day or two longer for them to get their goods that way, and it hurts their cash flow. The smart ones develop a system of shipping the majority of their goods, and bringing through enough goods as personal effects to bridge the gap until those air-freighted goods are cleared. This does not look like one of our regulars, so she probably doesn’t know the ropes yet. She’ll learn.’ The officer turned his attention back to Kenneth’s customs form. ‘Anything to declare?’
‘No.’
‘Let me take a look.’ Gesturing towards Kenneth’s bag, an Adidas sports bag.
Kenneth opened the bag. ‘Do you want me to take the things out of it?’
‘Hmm,’ the officer peered into the bag, ‘no I don’t think that will be necessary.’ He stamped the form, and smiled at Kenneth. ‘You have a good day now.’