To Sing Frogs Chapter 6a

We flew to Korea on a Northwest 747.

Chapter 6

 

Entering the Lair

 

 Whether it’s for an execution, or to receive some anticipated reward, all waiting eventually comes to an end—just like ours.

Pregnant suitcases strained in a vain attempt to separate teeth on zippers. The overstuffing wasn’t caused by what we needed for a week in Russia, rather all the gifts we packed for the orphanages. Amy had studied up on things most needed by those who serve orphans in Russia. We loaded up on clothes for infants through toddlers. Then there were toys and boxes of over-the counter medicines. I wondered how we’d make it through customs and immigration. It turned out that adoption agencies and others who had brought children back from Russia were right. No one even batted an eye.

My younger brother, David, and his beautiful, petite, brunette wife, Rachael, were the favorites of all the cousins. They helpfully volunteered to stay at our house with the kids during our trip to Russia. I think our sons might have been hoping we wouldn’t return. Time with Uncle David and Aunt Rachael was always a treat.

Amy was giddy during the hour-and-a-half drive from our home near Owosso to the airport in Detroit.

“What do you think Russia is like?”

“Cold.”

“What do you think the orphanages are like?”

“Sad.”

First she replied with the evil eye. Then she spoke. “Are you going to talk to me or not?”

“Sorry. I think there are lots of kids without parents. I think we’ll be surprised at what they do without. I think kids are kids and they come programmed to be optimistic and happy whenever possible. I think every one of them could tell you what they want to be when they grow up, even if you showed them all of the facts, figures, and odds against it. Kids never believe that they will fail. Most of these ones will, though. Most of them will fail miserably. Such optimism against overwhelming odds is what makes it the saddest to me. I think the orphanages will be sad.”

“Yeah, that is sad. I think our girls will be excited to get a family. I think it’s like a fairytale for them. Fairytales always have scary parts. Then they have happy endings.”

“Uh huh.” The glass is half full? Maybe. But it’s a pretty lousy glass and it ain’t gettin’ fuller.

The conversation continued for the duration of the drive. I was just humoring her though. Guys want to talk about solutions. Their wives want to talk about what things are like or how they might be. Amy wanted to talk about how the girls would feel and what they might think. What was the point? As situations arose, we’d deal with them. What about the other eight hundred thousand kids in Russian orphanages? There was no simple solution to that problem. What was the point of conversation?

       Our departure was delayed for an hour. After we boarded they kept us waiting for another twenty minutes so other passengers (who were more than an hour late) didn’t miss the flight. I myself had never drawn that lottery ticket. Planes left me if I wasn’t on board ten minutes before departure time.

“Calm down, Sweetheart. Getting wound up won’t make the plane leave faster.”

“Calm down. Calm down. You don’t have any idea how busy Tokyo is going to be! Even without these delays there was barely time to make our connection.”

Amy was calm as a summer breeze while late-comers sauntered up the aisles and took their time getting situated. I wanted to beat them with their carry-ons.

Headwinds and tailwinds can be a huge variable when flying. We were traveling west—across the Pacific—and would typically be pushing a headwind of a couple hundred miles per hour. Our estimated travel time would have calculated for this and according to the formula, we would miss our connection by more than an hour. Fortunately, unbelievable tail winds in excess of 200 miles per hour dragged us toward Russia in spite of all else. We were only twenty minutes late getting to Tokyo.

I’m usually pretty casual about disembarking a plane and allow people with claustrophobia to push through. We were touch and go for making our next flight though. It was my turn to freak out. I dragged our carry-ons and Amy through the middle row of seats in the 747 because I knew the starboard side of that double aisle plane always unloads faster. Flight attendants let people from the far side through in breaks between passengers exiting down the stairs from first class. The left-side coach passengers never even begin to get out until first class is completely evacuated.

That saved us five minutes. I had made the connection from Tokyo to Seoul many times in the past and knew exactly where I was going. We ran down moving sidewalks, our carryon wheels clumping and singing behind us. Another five minutes was saved. Finally we stood gasping for air and dripping with sweat as two girls at the empty boarding gate took our tickets. “Yes. Mr. and Mrs. Simmons; we have been waiting for you.”

What? Two-hundred mile-per hour tail winds, westbound across the Pacific? Now a plane is waiting for us? Maybe my luck is changing. Amy just smiled. She had told me everything would be fine. Mysterious Way Believers—you gotta love ‘em.