Author: R. J. Erbacher

I saw her sitting at the terminal, small carry-on bag at her feet, doing something on her cell phone. She looked like a woman who had lived a good life, up until that moment, and was satisfied with her accomplishments. I took a long, slow breath and went over and sat down in the attached seat next to her.

Having not taken any of the other empty spaces around us, she cut her eyes to me, sizing me up. An older man, full beard tinged with gray, tinted glasses and a flat cap were all red flags for a nefarious character. Before she could get up and move to another spot I spoke to her.

“Mrs. Anderson, right?”

Now she put her phone down and looked at me full on. Our eyes met for an instant and I lowered mine, brushing an imaginary speck off my pants.

“Do I know you?” she asked, suspicion in her voice.

“I was one of your son’s high school teachers.”

“Lincoln Memorial High?”

She was smart and wary, deliberately lying about the school to test me. Lincoln Memorial was the school in the town next to hers.

“No, Western Madison.” I quickly went on so she didn’t have to come up with some silly excuse why she had gotten her son’s high school name wrong. “It was his freshman year. I only remember him because he was a proficient student, far advanced in his science knowledge.”

“I don’t remember meeting you.”

“The science teacher that started the year, Ms. Blackwell, was pregnant and had some difficulties towards the end of the pregnancy and was out for five months. I was the substitute until she came back in mid-May. I don’t believe we ever crossed paths during my tenure.”

“I think I do recall that now.”

Again I continued, because I didn’t want her to question why an unknown substitute teacher, who I wasn’t, would recognize her in an airport. “I heard through some academic colleagues that your son graduated with honors in just three years and landed a full ride at Caltech. Applied Physics, I believe. I hope he is doing well in his first year there. Is that where you’re going; to see him?” I shouldn’t have said that.

“Yes, but-”

“I remember his grasp of the general relativity concepts and Einstein’s theories were inspiring. He was determined to accomplish things that had only been suggested -” I stopped myself before saying ‘at that time.’

An awkward silence followed as she scrutinized me. I had to get the rest out before I bolted away. “I remember him saying that you were the reason he was so diligent in his studies. He wanted to achieve something that no one else had done.” I swallowed hard before finishing, “He wanted you to be proud of him.”

Then the flight attendant behind the reception desk announced over the speaker that the plane was now boarding. The words made me cringe as if I had been slapped. I had to get the hell away. “Good to have met you, Mrs. Anderson.” I stood up and went to leave but she reached out and touched my wrist.

The warm hand, the soft skin constantly rubbed each night before bed with lavender hand cream, the nails tastefully short and unpolished, the wedding ring she never took off even after her husband was gone forcing her to be a single parent; it all registered with me in that frozen moment in time.

“I have always been proud of him.”

I looked briefly into her eyes, nodded and left immediately before she could see the tears streaming down my face. I walked away with a purpose. I could not watch her board that plane that would never arrive. And I was ruined by the knowledge that I absolutely could do nothing to prevent her from getting on either. I concentrated on the placement of each brown shoe as it stepped on the multi-colored rug, and then the next step in front of that one. Anything, not to contemplate the reason why my creation had been a success and a curse. Or the despondent need that brought me back to this point.

She picked up her bag and went onto the line with the other passengers headed for the jet bridge and softly said to nobody but herself, “Goodbye, son.”