Trena Eiden

A couple years ago in Petersburg, Kentucky, an unknown villain attempted to run over and smash a smiling snowman. Unbeknownst to the saboteur, Mr. Snowman was built on a tree stump and remained completely unscathed, black top hat still perched dapperly on his head. By the tracks and obvious bumper outline in the snow, the vehicle didn’t fare nearly as well. I love a happy ending.  

Heading home after Christmas we were caught in a storm in Houston. Actually, 300,000 of us were displaced and were all crammed unhappily into the airport. Our luggage, minus us, went on a midnight flight, so I figured it was partying without supervision, but since it was ours, it was probably napping. We were in the terminal for 12 hours, had three flights canceled and was promised the late flight, but at the last minute said it wasn’t leaving. It did leave. With our suitcases. With no more planes departing until morning, we caught a shuttle and went to the Marriott.  

The next morning at breakfast, our server was upbeat, with a big, bright smile and twinkling eyes. I asked if she was always like that? With a cheerful, toothy grin she said, “I’ve always told my grown children to be grateful for what they have and be thankful for five things every day.” I smiled back and said, “Good advice” then glanced over at Gar, who was watching me. Raising my eyebrows, I queried, “What? I don’t need that recommendation, I’m always a bright spot in everyone’s day.” He nodded, mentioning something about him “forgetting.”  

Making our way to the airport yet again, we checked in, made it through security, and walked the death march to our seats. Ours are always 99 gates away from wherever we are. I swear they say, “The fatties from Wyoming are here, make them get their steps in.” Just about the time we sat down, I got a text that our plane had been canceled, but that another was coming, just later. This is never good news because the connections are tight. With no other choice, we waited. As we read our books and scrolled our phones, I scanned the terminal, eyeing a backpack five seats down from us. At first, I thought nothing of it, but after a half hour, I wondered why it was left alone. I mentioned it to Gar and we both watched it, like maybe it would, I don’t know, dance a jig or high five us. After another thirty minutes, I went to the agent’s podium about 30 feet away, and started to explain that there was an unaccompanied piece of luggage by us and we wondered about it. That agent said a curious thing, “Yes, we’re aware, and we’ve been watching it too.” It was at this point I felt logic left the scene. I asked if I might move it to their location and she said, and I quote, “Oh no, don’t touch it, it might contain an explosive.” I was stunned and I think I might have told her at a volume higher than normal, “We’ve been sitting by it and you never said a word.” About that time, our plane arrived and we got on it.  

Our day wasn’t over, and after another airport, we made it to our final destination. We waited at the luggage carousel, watching for our bags. Mine came by and I snatched it off the belt. After much time passed, the hordes of people, suitcases in hand, left the area. The conveyer was still running, but Gar’s luggage hadn’t come out. Finally, I glanced over and up against the dark wall across from us, was his bag, standing alone in the corner. Someone had taken it off the belt and realizing it wasn’t theirs, left it off. Here’s where I tell you, “When I die, it will be because I’ve ran out of people to be disgusted with.”  

As we began to exit the airport I glanced down and wedged against a wall behind a chair was a check. It was wrinkled but still cashable. Don’t get ahead of me. I didn’t do anything sinister, and instead, took it to the closest person in uniform. He looked at it and amazingly enough, with thousands of people going in and out, he knew the owner and exclaimed, “Ha! She’s been looking for this!”  Well now, I usually consider myself a swamp witch, but occasionally, I can be a good person. But don’t expect it often because I won’t make it a habit.