To Sing Frogs Chapter 26c
Last Pictures at the Vlad Inn
We verbally crowded to the front of the fee line and the woman moved in halftime getting us a receipt. Fortunately there was a crowd instead of a line at the window for ticketing. We just used our elbows.
It looked like we would barely make the plane when Stass and Anya helped us rush through the metal detectors. There just wasn’t time when Sarah ran back through for last embraces.
“Thank you for my mama and my papa.”
The seven hour flight to Moscow was pure boredom for the children. The girls resembled the old animated Tasmanian Devil as we un-caged them from the plane and herded them through the airport. Julia didn’t have any trouble finding us at the terminal in Moscow. “How was your flight?”
“Long. Security was unbelievable. Is it always that bad here?”
“It’s because of V-Day. Air Force One will be arriving sometime in the next few hours with President and Laura Bush. World leaders have been arriving all week. Security is crazy all over the city,” she said waving her arm toward Moscow. “I’ve lived here my whole life and I’ve never seen it this bad.”
Little Miracles’ coordinator for the Moscow region took hold of one of the luggage sets. I followed her with the other and Celeste. Amy carried Denney. Bill dragged his own bags and packed Sarah. “She has legs, Bill.”
“We’re just fine.”
“Where are you staying,” Julia asked.
“The Marriott.”
“The Marriott, Grand?”
“I guess so. The papers are somewhere in the luggage. You need me to dig them out?”
“No. I have your itinerary in the van. I can check later. I’m almost sure you’re at the Grand.” Julia thought I knew. I thought she knew. We both had itineraries. One of us should have checked.
Fifteen minutes later we were in the van sniffing raw fumes from thousands of cars that could never pass a U.S. emissions test. Traffic was stop-and-go all the way to the Marriot Grand. It took two hours to go eighteen miles. I think Napoleon went the last eighteen miles to Moscow faster. At least the city wasn’t on fire while we approached. The only thing burning up was Denney.
We dragged our children and luggage through the revolving door. Julia guided Amy to a high-back chair in the lobby and placed Celeste on her lap along with Denney. Then she took Sarah to the chair next to it. Sarah didn’t have to be coaxed to sit. She was finally exhausted. She slumped to the side and laid her head on the chair’s arm. Then Julia led Bill and me to the counter for check in.
The beautiful dark haired early-twenties Russian girl spoke perfect English as she took our credit cards. When she learned we were there for adoptions she carefully gave us three small stuffed bears as if she were handling a child. Bill and I walked back to give the toys to the kids while we waited. The children were all asleep so we put the animals in Amy’s purse. Julia walked up a few minutes later. “I’m sorry. There seems to be a problem with your reservation. They don’t have it.”
“Do they have rooms available?” I asked.
“She says they don’t. Judging from the lack of activity here I doubt that’s true. I think it has more to do with security. President and First Lady Bush are rumored to be staying here and they’re supposed to arrive sometime this evening.”
“There has to be something we can do.”
“I did have them check with the Marriott Royal. Your reservations are there.”
“Beautiful. What do we do now?”
Julia told me the van driver had already left for home because she was planning on taking the metro. She’d call him on his phone and have him come back. The problem was traffic and security checks going back through the city. It would take a while.
Go to other sections of To Sing Frogs
Go to John M. Simmons’ blog
Comments
Leave a comment