Reaching For The Storm, Part 2: Chicago

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
Going to America from the old country without knowing English , he is lost in the air! What happens next? We will see!

Submitted: September 23, 2015

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Submitted: September 23, 2015

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Reaching For The Storm,

 

Part 2 : Chicago

 

The plane landed with various noises. Some of the passengers who had not listened to the pilot's short speech were now  worried. A few even got up to get off the plane. " We got to Canada so fast!" one said. "No , it is not Canada. It is Chicago," said an old man with a big smile." The Capitan wants to go down to take a piss!"

" Silly man!" said an old woman sitting next to him.

"Please don't get up," said one of the hostesses . " No one is going to leave the plane…except this young man… who wants to go to San Francisco!" she added, walking towards Hooman.

"Me too!" said the old man. " Please take me to San Francisco too …and my beautiful wife …to Alaska. Would  you?"

"Don't be silly!" the old woman said.

The hostess was now holding Hooman by the arm and asking him to get up.

"Me…go…where!?" Hooman asked in confusion, not having understood a word of what the Captain had said over the loudspeaker, nor what the hostess and others had just said.

"You don't go anyplace, young man," said the old man now on his feet. " I am the one going… I am going  to visit  Al Capone in Chicago!"

"You are worse than Al Capone yourself!" said the old woman pulling him down to his seat.

The door of the airplane was now wide open and the moving staircase  attached to it . Three people were standing down there waiting. "Let's go , sir!" said the hostess. " They are waiting for you.''

"Why…?" said Hooman shocked." Me…have ….ticket-ticket!"

"Yes , darling," said the hostess. "You have your ticket-ticket, but you don't have an  airplane to go with it!"

Soon they were walking down the staircase together. There were a policeman, a girl dressed like a hostess and another man in civilian clothes waiting for them. "Hi," the policeman said loudly when they reached the ground.  "Welcome to America!"

" He never left America!" the young girl in uniform said. " He is here because he doesn't  want to leave America!"

"What the heck!" said the policeman letting them go past him.

They soon got to the airport building and entered it. The woman in uniform was holding Hooman's hand tight, practically pulling him behind her. "You sit here sir," she said when they got to a row of chairs. "You sit tight and don't move until I come and getchu,"  she said sternly. "You understand!?"

" No, " said Hooman shaking his head.

The girl was now standing in front of him totally confused, not knowing what to do. Finally she shrugged her shoulders and began talkig  slowly putting stress on most of the words,"We can't... get you ... your suitcases! They are probaly...sitting in San Francisco... waiting for you... right now. I hope... you'll find them... all right. Do you... understand?"

" No…,no," Hooman Said.

The woman shook her head and said pointing her forefinger to him, "Youdon'tmove…from….here,"  showing the chair. She then shrugged her shoulders again and slowly walked away.

 Hooman was very hungry now. He had a number of five dollar bills in his jacket pocket, but he could not get hold of them because the top of the jacket pocket had been carefully sewn. Mother had decided that this would be the best way of safeguarding the little American money they had managed to put together for him. In the future , after Dad  got a raise, Hooman was to receive eighty dollars a month. Until then, however, he was to be very careful on spending money. Uncle Ben had of-course told them that Hooman  did not need to have any money with him because he himself was going to pay all of  Hooman'sexpenses when he got to San Francisco, and that he did not need to spend any  money on the way, that is if he was really going  to go to San Francisco, and not to  Canada  instead!

Wondering  how he could  tear up his pocket to get out the money before the eyes of all those  people around, he began looking to his right and left. There were several brand new cars pivoting around  something. It was a sort of car exhibition he had never seen in his life. The place was so shining with all kinds of lights and lamps that he felt he was sitting in the middle of a spotlight on a stage. In a distance, he could see a number of restaurants  and food stands. " God!"  he thought looking up at the ceiling, " why in the world should I go hungry with so much food around and so much money in my pocket !?" Then he suddenly felt someone shaking  his arm . "Hi," a warm beautiful voice  said practically in his ear, " I thought you might be hungry, so  I brought you  a little something  to munch on until your plane is ready."  It was the woman who had brought him there.

"Han….what…?" said Hooman not understanding a word  of what the woman had said. The woman, however , seemed to be prepared for such an eventuality. "Here," she said holding the five fingers of her right hand together and moving it back and forth in front of her own  open mouth. "You….you…eat…eat…good?"

"Yes…yes…I eat good! Very  good!"

The woman laughed. "Very  very  good!" she said happily. "You are a smart fellow!" she added putting her left hand forward with a long, thin sandwich. Hooman took the sandwich with both hands.

"Thank you… God," he said with all his might.

"You are very welcome, handsome  young man!" she giggled shaking her head rather confused.

"God has  heard me once again,"  Hooman told himself with pride,"I wonder what his  angel has put in my food!"

As if she had heard the sound of his thoughts, the girl turned her head as she was walking away and yelled, "I hope you'll like it!" She then shouted at the top of her voice,  " It's a large  hot dog!"

" Oh dear God!" Hooman thought looking up at the ceiling, "Hhow in the world do you expect me to eat a large, hot, dog!!"

 Feeling nauseated, he immediately stood up and walked towards a wastebasket nearby. Then he suddenly noticed the tip of the sausage, something he really loved, sticking out of the bun. " Oh, God,' he said looking up,  "I know that you know what I love. But how come you made my sausage out of dog meat!?"

"You don't want that?" asked an old man in dirty clothes approaching, holding out his right hand.

" No…no…yes…yes… no…no…" said  Hooman taking a big bite of the sausage before the old man's hand could reach it. Then he quickly returned to his seat some "yellow stuff" dripping from his cheeks.

Some hours later, the angel who had brought him his hotdog appeared again, this time to take him to the next plane.

 

 

 


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