Blown for Good - Marc Morgan Headley [156]
“Marc?” a female voice asks.
“Yeah.”
“I will be right down.”
A good-looking woman in her late 30’s comes down. She has on sweat pants and looks as if she has just come from the gym. She tells me that we can put the motorcycle in the parking structure. I take it out of the truck and park it in a spot she points out. She asks me if I want to come upstairs where she has my itinerary and flight info. She is very nice. She does not ask me any questions about what is happening. She is just there to help and whatever she has been told was enough.
We find the nearest place I can take the U-Haul truck to return it and when my flight leaves. We do not have a lot of time.
Stephanie has some posters in her apartment from plays or productions that she has been in. She is an actress or performer of some sort. She gives me something to drink while we figure out exactly how we will return the truck and get me to the airport. I profusely thank her for helping me and taking time out of her day to deal with my drama.
The U-Haul place is in Agoura Hills, the exact opposite direction of the airport. But it is the closest place that will take back a truck from another U-Haul place. I have no idea there is so much involved in renting a truck. Well, I might as well have been locked up in a cave for most of the past fifteen years, so how the hell would I know anything about what takes place in the real world. I drive the truck and Stephanie follows and picks me up at the U-Haul place and from there we will go to LAX. We have about three hours before my flight is supposed to leave.
As soon as I get back in the truck and on the road again, all I can think about is my wife. And the crying starts again. Then it hit me. I have been so upset over the loss of my wife and now I realize that I have also lost my sister, my brother and my mother. I am never going to be able to talk to them again for sure.
My mom is in the Sea Org at Flag so there is no way I will see or talk to her again. My sister is still at Gold so that is a no brainer. They are not going to let me talk to her again. And my half-brother lives in Clearwater with my mom’s ex-boyfriend. There are five people in my life that I love with everything I have or am a direct relation to. I have lost four of them that morning. I try to tell myself that this is still the best option and that it will all work out, but part of me is still considering going back. By the time I arrive at the U-Haul place in Agoura Hills, another 30 minutes has gone by. I am cutting it close. I still have to get to the airport and through the check in, security and to the gate to make my flight to Kansas City.
We leave the U-Haul place and head to the airport. Stephanie drives like a Formula 1 driver in her little BMW to the airport. We make it there in time. I still have at least an hour before my flight leaves. I grab my stuff and thank Stephanie again for all she has done. I tell her that I will try to get my bike soon. She tells me not to worry about it and that it is no problem. She says goodbye and drives off. She is a huge contrast to what I have been told people are like. At the Int Base, the general public is portrayed as drug addled criminals and corporate cubicle drones bent on having a house, two cars, two kids and a dog. Here is the nicest person I have met in ages, nicer than any Int Base Staff member and she does not know me at all. She just dropped everything she was doing and spent four hours driving me around and giving me a place to park my bike for an indeterminate amount of time.
I make my way into the airport. I still have to be on the lookout for people trying to get me back to the Base. I no longer have the services of the cops protecting me. I do realize that if there is any trouble, getting the cops involved seems to make them back off rather easily. There must be some threat the cops present that they are not willing to deal with.
I get to the ticket counter and give them my e-ticket number.
“Oh, I am sorry but your flight