I
Part One
Living the Dream
August 2002
Chapter 1:
I knew my life was about to change, but I believed it would be transient, morphing back into my natural state like a rubber band that had been stretched, and flung across the room, yet outwardly looking no different after its journey. Looking through the small, oval window, I said goodbye to the old me, and snuggled back against the overstuffed leather chair.
People outside hurried on the tarmac, and people inside scrambled to find their seats. A line of luggage squeezed through the tiny aisle and found its way to the overhead compartments for the six-hour journey across the Atlantic.
The seat beside me remained empty, and I stretched my legs around my extra-large pocketbook. Pulling it closer to my feet, I dug out my Ireland guidebook and flipped through the pages. Reviewing my wishlist and dreaming about the incredible sights and picturesque scenery, I catapulted into a utopia of sorts.
Planning this semester precisely and intentionally, I had relied on the internet, the library, and friends and family to create a detailed route for every weekend excursion. Only this weekend and the last weekend were left open for the nonnegotiable trip to and from America. All major cities, plus the quaint towns dotted along the way were starred, highlighted, and flagged within the pages of my semester bible. This book had stayed with me morning, noon, and night since my study abroad application was accepted six months ago.
Checking my watch, I pulled a paper-thin blanket over my legs and smiled. The flight was due to leave in four minutes. My stomach tumbled at the thought of leaving my friends and my boyfriend for what might feel like an eternity, but I pushed aside images of missing out and instead embraced the hope of infinite new experiences.
The flight attendant walked by and smiled. I admired her splattered freckles, ivory skin, and strawberry-blonde hair that reminded me of summer. I pulled my own straight, jet-black mop into a messy bun behind my head and continued to look around the plane. “Few moments to go,” she said, and my heart jolted with excitement. I turned to grin at the passenger two seats away, but he remained stoic, his eyes never leaving his book.
Undeterred, I leaned across the empty seat between us. “What are you reading?”
He placed the book face down on his lap and turned to me. “Just something I picked up at the book kiosk.”
I glanced at the book, not recognizing the cover, and then at him. “It looks good.”
He didn’t respond.
“Have you ever been to Ireland?” I leaned against my seat and readjusted my blanket.
He rubbed his eyes. “Yes, often for business. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a book to get back to.”
I pulled back and my shoulders tightened, surprised by his stern words softened with an apologetic smile. “Oh, yes, sorry. Enjoy.” I returned to the window and checked my watch. We were supposed to leave three minutes ago. Glancing around the plane, the flight attendants huddled near the front. Nothing seemed amiss, so I flipped through my book again.
I couldn’t wait to get away from my parents and take a break from college. I was due to graduate in less than two years and deserved a four-month vacation from my normal, everyday life. Some of my friends took a year off after high school, but when I approached the subject with my parents, they quickly dismissed me. Now, I was free. I flipped through my book and imagined myself among the photographs of abandoned castles and flocks of sheep, while living my best life.
The numbers on my watch taunted me, a reminder that the flight should have departed six minutes ago. What is the hold-up? I glanced again at the flight attendants, and the woman with the strawberry-blonde hair opened the door. A man with flaming red hair and an overgrown crimson beard cruised down the aisle, scanning the numbers above the seats. He stopped directly in front of my row and shoved his backpack into the overhead bin above me, then slammed the lid down. I closed my eyes. Please, don’t sit here. Clothing brushed against my arm, and I squeezed closer to the window as his arms flailed while taking off his sweatshirt.
When I opened my eyes, big sneakers pushed against my bag. I scanned up and noticed grass-stained knees and random holes decorating his pants. My eyes moved to his face, and he grinned at me with crooked front teeth, scrunched eyes, and bushy red eyebrows. A plethora of freckles sprayed his cheeks, morphing into the perimeter of his beard.
“Hello,” he said. “Would you mind moving your bag a bit?” He pointed down, and my eyes followed. It sat slightly tilted toward his foot but leaned mostly on my side.
Tossing him a polite grimace, I moved it over some more. “Sorry about that,” I said, rising to a sitting position.
“No worries.” He widened his legs and his knee pressed against mine, pushing me and my bag toward the airplane wall. I clenched my jaw and tapped my toe before tilting my hips toward him.
“You know,” I said, “it’s a long flight, and I’d appreciate a little space. I’m practically kissing the window.” For extra theatrics, I tipped my head and it clunked against the glass.
“No worries.” He completed one last leg stretch before sitting upright and reaching down to move my bag back to its original resting place.
The captain’s Irish lilt permeated the plane over the loudspeaker. “Attention travelers. My name is Michael, and I am your captain. We have a six-hour flight ahead of us and will arrive in Shannon around six a.m. Irish time. The weather forecast is chilly with rain. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride. Your adventure awaits.”
The airplane tiptoed toward the runway, then shot like an arrow. I clutched my book and held it to my chest. My eyes fixated on the steady and blinking lights that illuminated the runway until the plane lifted and the lights turned to distant glitter.
I turned toward my new neighbor in the middle seat to share my excitement, but his eyes were closed, and his headphones were on, so I pulled out a notebook and listed all the places I wanted to see.
I couldn’t wait to see the new person I would become at the end of my Irish fall.
