Day 10 of Nanowrimo (challenge: use the phrase “Has anyone seen my turtle?”):<\/p>\n
I relaxed in my JetBlue seat\u00e2\u20ac\u201dI guess indie financing meant indie travel accommodations; no first class on this trip\u00e2\u20ac\u201dand tried to distract myself from Port St. Lucie. In July. <\/p>\n
Of course, I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t need to distract myself. A few moments had passed when I suddenly felt something poking at my feet. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Hey!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I said, pulling my feet up into my seat.
A boy no more than seven years old poked his head up. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Have you seen my turtle?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he asked.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153There are turtles on this plane?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I asked, unsure whether or not to be disgusted. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not so much an animal person. Oh, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m happy to pet the occasional dog in the park and I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll tolerate friends\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 cats, but animals are not creatures with whom I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d choose to spend my time. The idea of a rodent reptile (for all animals basically struck me as rodent like) nosing around my carry-on bag kind of turned my stomach a little.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Just my turtle. He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Before he could finish his thought, a tall, severe flight attendant with a bun tightly pulled across her blond hair, dashed down the aisle. She towered over him and a shadow must have cast over the floor he was scouring because he looked up.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Hey!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he yelled out. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Be careful. Don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t step on my turtle!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
She merely scowled and pointed at the fasten seat belt sign. He began, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m just\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u009d but she jabbed her finger in the air menacingly, sending him scurrying him back to his seat three rows up. Straddling the line between sexy and scary, she was the type of woman who in six years could easily appear in his nightmares\u00e2\u20ac\u201dor perhaps his dreams, depending which way he floated\u00e2\u20ac\u201ddressed in a school uniform or a nun\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s outfit, brandishing a ruler.<\/p>\n
As soon as the fasten seat belts sign chimed off, the boy hopped back up and began scanning the aisles, attempting to crawl his way up for a turtle eye view.
I decided to take a nap and try to forget about everything. Forget about the film shoot. Forget about Gary in Paris, the most romantic of cities, with me in Port St. Lucie, the most sweltering of cities. Forget about my brother. Forget, forget, forget. I attempted a nap for about three nanoseconds when a the boy got near my row again, calling out, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Have you seen my turtle? Has anyone seen my turtle?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I propped open a slit of an eye to see him eyeball to eyeball with me. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Have you seen my turtle? He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s small and green and he answers to the name Kermit.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Isn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t Kermit a frog?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I asked him.<\/p>\n
The boy scoffed. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Clearly you have no imagination.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
I tried to go back to sleep but there was just enough turbulence to ensure I stayed awake. I bought a lunch, settled into my seat to watch a couple hours of Cartoon Network, and mindlessly twirled a strand of hair around my finger.<\/p>\n
Finally, we landed. I stood up and reached up to grab my suitcase. As I swung it down, I took a step forward, and out sounded a crack that was loud enough if might have been the shot heard \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcround the world. The silence immediately quieted as everyone turned to stare at me,<\/p>\n
I was afraid to look down. I wanted to just walk off that plane, with my head held high, and go and work on a movie set, a job that was probably the envy of most of the folks on the plane, folks who are fooled into thinking it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s all fun and games and that we really just sit around and laugh all the time. But instead, I need to know what I had crunched beneath my Doc Marten. Looking down, sure enough, there he was: Kermit. Who knew a shell could be flattened like that? <\/p>\n
I leaned down to look at him. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Get up,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I hissed at the turtle. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Get up!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Needless to say, there was no movement.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153What did you do?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d scolded an older woman behind me. In front of me was an older man who pretended the whole thing never happened.
Next to me was a college aged boy who commented, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Whoa! The totally weird thing is, I was just debating with my roommates if a turtle shell would crunch or not. We all agreed it wouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t because it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s shell is so hard. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d be like crushing your tooth! But, dude! Empirical evidence! They do crunch!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
I quickly used my foot to scoot the evidence out of the aisle and beneath a seat. I stand uncomfortably, not saying anything, waiting for the line of bodies to move out of the plane. When I do finally disembark, at the end of the gangplank is the boy with a senior-looking airline official. The boys parents are behind him and even they look distraught. The boy has tear tracks on his cheeks and the official has an arm around his shoulder. I can clearly hear him saying, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t worry. As soon as everyone\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s off the plane, we can go look for Kermit. We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll find him.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
I say nothing and just head for baggage claim. Good thing I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t believe in omens. I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t believe in them. Right?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Day 10 of Nanowrimo (challenge: use the phrase “Has anyone seen my turtle?”): I relaxed in my JetBlue seat\u00e2\u20ac\u201dI guess indie financing meant indie travel accommodations; no first class on this trip\u00e2\u20ac\u201dand tried to distract myself from Port St. Lucie. In July. Of course, I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t need to distract myself. A few moments had passed […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[50],"class_list":["post-348","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-nanowrimo"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyandadam.com\/Jenny\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/348","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyandadam.com\/Jenny\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyandadam.com\/Jenny\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyandadam.com\/Jenny\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyandadam.com\/Jenny\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=348"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyandadam.com\/Jenny\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/348\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyandadam.com\/Jenny\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=348"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyandadam.com\/Jenny\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=348"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jennyandadam.com\/Jenny\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=348"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}