After sitting in Anchorage for over a month I have just recently been able to go out on a job. I was supposed to be on a plane for 6:30pm for flight down to Homer on Friday evening. I waited at the apartment for a taxi until 6:15pm that never showed. I got lucky when someone else came into the apartment and I asked him to take me to the airport a.s.a.p. he gladly took me down to the airport although I knew I had already missed my flight. I walked over to the ticket counter and asked if I had missed my flight. Again I got lucky. My flight had been delayed as they were having some mechanical problems. The flight has been pushed back to 7:30pm. So this was awesome I had not missed the flight. And I had a little time to hang out in the airport. For some reason or another I love it when I have fairly long layovers in airports. I love to hang out in them. The smells of all the restraunts, bookstores, magazine stands, and clothing stores. I like watching people hurry to get to their terminals, the look of disappointment on their face when they have missed their flight, the happiness on their face when they pick up the relatives they have not seen in years. I like how they are always busy no matter what time of day or night it may be. I like the thought of where they are going or where they have been. Where are they from? Are they in town for business or for pleasure? Did a relative just pass away?
7:30pm rolls around and they make an announcement that the flight had been canceled and they were moving all of us to a 9:30pm flight. This was even better. I had yet even more time in the airport. When I arrived down in Homer it was slightly snowing. A co-worker picked me up at the airport and brought me over to the hotel. The hotel is a small, charming place like something out of a movie. We had to go into the lounge to get a room after hours. In the lounge it was karaoke night. The place was filled with locals who all knew one another as this is a small town. Everyone cheered as an old man gets up on stage obviously a little drink and wearing a cowboy shirt with the tassels on the back and down the arms and a cowboy hat. He starts singing some old song by Willie Nelson and, not to bad either. I get the key to the room and go to sleep.
I woke up early the next morning and walked over to the hotel restraunt. The restraunt has may stuffed animals on the walls as well as various animal pelts. One side was facing down the mountainside and had many large windows to look out of. I sat down in a seat right next to the window and ordered some breakfast. As I was sitting there I saw a Bald Eagle flying by and land in a tree. I was amazed at how big they are. I had seen them once before in captivity but they were nowhere near the size of this one. I looked like a Black Lab with a white head sitting in a tree. They are beautiful birds. When the waitress came over to the table I inquired about them and she said they are all over the place around here.
Sunday morning when I got off of work me and the other guy who was working the shift with me come back to the hotel and I went back to his room to sit around and bull shit for a while over whiskey. I threw down one after another and before I knew it I had maybe eight drinks or so within an hour and was pretty well fucked up. I walked back down to my room and passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow.
During the night I had a strange dream. I went to see an old friend from the past. I had not seen her in years. We sat around and talked for hours over drinks. She mentioned to me that she had a daughter now and quickly produced a picture. I took a look at the picture and this little girl was adorable, one of the cutest little girls I had ever seen. She looked strangely familiar though. It was bothersome how familiar she looked, as if I had seen this little girl before and just could not place her. Something about her eyes, her eyes really struck something in me. I told her the kid was cute, maybe the cutest I had ever seen. It was at this time she let out a cry, bursting into tears with somewhat of a huge beautiful smile on her face while saying “she’s your daughter mike”. I immediately knew what it was about those eyes. They were my eyes, no question about it, they were the eyes of my mother. She bore a striking resemblance of my mother at the same age. This was without a doubt my child. My mind started racing trying to count the years it had been since I had seen her. How old was this little girl? Was she ever going to tell me about her if I had not run into her and decided to hang out with her ? My eyes filled with tears, my heart with joy. I held her as tightly as I could and looked her in her eyes and said “ do you need any help? I want to be her father, I want to be here for the two of you.” We both stared into each other’s tear filled eyes and smiled.
I woke up, nervous, excited, and completely obsessing about this girl from my past. I was also somewhat pissed that I did not get to see how it all turned out. Why is it you never get to see the end of dreams? It’s like watching a really good movie and before you get to the end someone turns the T.V. off. Or like having really awesome sex and just before you have an orgasm someone just stops. It’s horrible. I do not know if this would be considered a dream or a nightmare. Yes I may have liked it however, she is all I am thinking about now. Her and the little girl with the hauntingly familiar face continue to torment my thoughts.
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