Issue #65: Fond Farewell
Part 4 – Parting
Christina Carlyle, also known as Tink and now increasingly known to the larger world as Renaissance, sat on one of the long benches at Dulles International Airport and stared out through the floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the airfield.
At the far end stood the gleaming white edifice of the orbital shot terminal, with its two hundred feet of braced and reinforced launch rail angling skyward and flaring white sparks as it was charging for the 8am shot to Paris She’d always dreamed of taking an orbital shot, but today, she would be crossing the Atlantic the old fashioned way; in a regular airliner.
Allie, who would be going with her to get her settled, was off double checking their hotel reservations. Her father and brothers, who would be seeing them off and then staying in Mayfield a few days catching up, had absconded to the lounge. And Warrick was getting Tink and himself something to eat while they waited for the boarding call.
For the moment, for the first time in days, she was alone with her thoughts; a place she didn’t really want to be. For the past month, she’d been walking in a cloud of euphoria over finally achieving what felt like a lifelong goal and then exceeding it with the mentor program and the excitement of all the new experiences and opportunities coming her way. But now, as she was on the cusp of stepping into an irrevocable path of change, it was setting in just how far England was.
Besides the beach house, she’d never been away from home more than a week at a time, and even then, she’d been with family or friends and never had she been apart from her parents in another country. Tiny, traitorous parts of her wondered if she could even hack it at a place as prestigious as Cambridge, or being on her own at all.
Insecurities and concerns seeped out of the woodwork; things she hadn’t thought of until that moment, things she’d been ignoring, and things she’d been actively avoiding. Somehow, it seemed more intimidating to become a college student in a strange land than leap into battles with powered psychopaths. After all, they didn’t make a wearable material that could deflect failure or shame.
And there were other fears too. About what would happen in the other areas of her life. Could she still be of help to the Descendants when every visit required her to gate in with the mirror and leave on an expensive orbital shot to make sure no one noticed she was missing from England? Would the friendships she’d made with Cyn and Lisa and Kay, among others still be as close? And could she and Warrick…
A cardboard carton, brimming with fries and with two wrapped rounds that were almost certainly cheeseburgers was set down on the bench to her right. A drink caddy with a cup of cola and a cup of fruit punch followed soon after on her right. Then two arms, surprisingly slender for the strength in them, snaked around her from behind.
Warrick’s chin landed on her shoulder. “We should have hit a drive through on the way in.” He said in a breathy, airy tone, as if he was whispering sweet nothings. It made her laugh a bit. “Thirty bucks for a burger basket for two. These airport guys are bigger crooks than anybody we’ve ever caught.”
He nuzzled a bit against her neck and it surprised her that he’d become so bold recently. So had she, now that she thought about it. They were a lot more comfortable with each other than those first months, and any awkwardness on their parts was now because they were both awkward in general. “You seem deep in thought.” He added.
She wrapped her arms around his, then turned and kissed him gently on the lips. “A little bit. Just nervous about the trip.” He tensed a bit, forgetting he was holding her. A small smile crept onto her lips. “So are you.”
A small sigh of frustration left him and he reluctantly let got so he could come around and sit by her. “Yeah… but I was trying not to let on.”
She laughed. “Nice. You were trying not to let on that you’re going to miss your girlfriend?”
Bashful, he sat down and picked up one o the burgers, weighing it in his hand. “That came out wrong. You know what I mean though, right?”
“Yeah.” She picked up a fry, bit it in half and chewed thoughtfully before saying. “Don’t feel bad though. It’s scary for me too. You’re the first guy I ever really liked. My first date, first kiss, first slow dance… you get the picture.”
He nodded. “It’s the same with you. Okay, I did have a few dates, but they didn’t really turn out well—but everything else…”
“I just don’t want anything to effect that.” Tink finished the thought for him. “But I’m going to be in another country, and you’ll be here and…” She flushed, embarrassed, “There will be girls here. Prettier girls. And this is college, so they won’t be shallow like the girls we went to school with and they’ll see, you know—they’ll see what a great guy you really are. And they’ll be smart and they’ll probably get art and acting and stuff way more than I do and…” She was wringing her hands with her head lowered. This was interrupted by his hand grasping for hers.
She looked up to find him looking deeply amused. “What?”
Warrick shook a bit with suppressed laughter. “You’re braver than me… or at least better at blurting stuff out. I’ve been having those same thoughts going through my head about Cambridge. You know, how there’s going to be all these super-brainy, super-handsome British guys there, with their culture and their accents and… well I’m just some guy from Brooklyn whose best marks are in art and things he was literally born to understand.”
He squeezed her hand. “But I hear you say all that stuff and I’m like ‘I’ve been on campus almost a month and none of the girls compare, and even if they did, they’re… well they’re not you.” His thumb drew circles on the back of her hand without him thinking. “You… you’re smart and beautiful and brave and… all sorts of other things, but that’s not even the important part. I don’t know how to say what the important part is, but that—that’s you and that’s the part I love.”
Red tinged his face and he looked down at their joined hands. “And suddenly, I thinking, or hoping maybe, that maybe that’s how you might feel about me too.”
Blushing furiously, Tink suddenly pulled him into a tight hug, crushing the carton between them. They remained in a tight embrace for a long moment, their cheeks rubbing together, just enjoying the scent and warmth of each other. Tink finally drew back, just enough to whisper in his ear. “Any you say you aren’t good with words.”
“It’s probably got more to do with you than me.” He chuckled as they finally broke apart. “Oh, and I got you something.” He fumbled in his shirt pocket and came up with a plain, silver ring hanging on a chain of fine, silver links. “Um… it’s a promise ring. Old fashioned, but my dad gave my mom one when he had to transfer to Florida for his job way back when and they seemed to get past the long distance thing fine so…”
He swallowed and held the ring up. “It’s… not a normal ring, by the way. It’s a steel/silver alloy I made myself: Steel’s durability and hardness; Silver’s diamagnetic and conductive properties. And there’s an inscription.”
He handed the ring and chain to Tink, who was still left breathless by the sentiment coming so close on the heels to what he’d said earlier. She shook herself out of the stupor long enough to read what was etched on the inside. Though the ring was plain, the script was flowing an intricate, something that could have only been done with a laser if not for his powers.
It read: ‘Love: As Precious as Silver, As Enduring as Steel.’
“Warrick.” She said with a catch in her throat. “I don’t know what to say… thank you.”
He decided not to tell her that he’d kept Laurel and Alexis up almost an entire night the previous weekend, brainstorming the perfect sentiment to put on the ring. Instead he smiled at her reaction and went to put the necklace on for her. “You don’t have to say anything. I just thought… well I didn’t expect to say all the stuff I just said to you before, and I’m better with actions than words, so…”
“You did perfectly.” She leaned forward so he could clasp the necklace in place. “You don’t know how much it means to me.”
They smiled at each other and a bit of the old awkwardness set in again because neither knew what to say.
Warrick eventually looked down at the carton, which though squashed, hadn’t spilled many fries at all. “So… ready for your plane trip? I see you’re prepared to shirk that carry on fee.”
He was referring to the fact that she was wearing the utility kilt she also wore as Renaissance. Coupled with her white tank top and light, gray hooded jacket, no one would suspect. On more than one occasion so far, they’d used it to smuggle snacks into movies, and it was just as perfect for holding all the typical carry-on items without actually being something the airline could charge her for as a carry on.
Tink laughed, the spell of awkwardness broken, though she did reach up and absently play with the necklace. “Hey, it’s a five hour flight; I’m not going to go without internet access for that long and I’m not paying two hundred dollars to carry my stuff on board.”
They spent the next hour eating their very early lunch and comfortably chatting away like they would have any other day of the week, as if they weren’t going to be split apart.
Eventually though, there was a tone overhead, announcing that the flight to London Heathrow was now boarding. The conversation died and pair cast longing looks at one another.
“I guess this is it.” Warrick got to his feet and held out his hand to her in a gentlemanly fashion.
She accepted it, though she didn’t need any help and stood slowly. “I guess so.” She sucked on her lower lip as if the action would buy her more time. “I’ll message you when we’re in the air, okay?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Tink leaned over and kissed him, tentative at first, then with mounting need. He returned it with equal passion and pulled her closer. It might be weeks before they were able to do so again, and both were determined to make it last.
A cheerful, unsuspecting voice interrupted them. “Christina! Time to go!” A small ‘eep’ escaped on of them and they broke the kiss to find a suddenly shamefaced Allie standing there with the tickets. “Oh.” She said with a self satisfied smirk. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
It was at that point that the two realized that they were still holding each other close. In front of her mother. That was all the reason needed for both to take a step back instantly.
“You weren’t interrupting, mom.” Tink stammered and ran her fingers through her hair.
“Not at all.” Warrick added, rubbing the back of his head. “Just saying goodbye.”
As Tink went with Allie to say one last goodbye to her father and brother before boarding, Warrick stood by the bench, hands shoved into his pockets and watched. He reminded himself that the internet was a thing, and they could talk face to face whenever they felt like it, that the mirror gate was there so there was no reason they had to be apart for special occasions. And that the important thing was that they’d just confirmed what they meant to each other.
But in the moment, especially when she turned right at the entrance to the gate and waved goodbye one more time, none of that mitigated the empty feeling he got seeing her go.
When she was out of sight, he turned back to the window and leaned heavily on the railing there, staring out that the planes on the tarmac. His forehead touched the cool window and he looked through his own reflection at the comings and goings, wondering how many other people were being split up with each departure and how they coped with it.
“Allie would say I’m being ‘mean’, but I’m going to tell you the truth,” came the voice of Mr. Carlyle. Warrick turned to see him sitting on the bench, thick hands pressed down on the plastic on either side of him as he hunched forward, “It make me feel good in away, seeing how upset you are right now.”
The expression he got from that made him grunt out a laugh. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re a good kid; respectful, honest, and you’re good to and for Christina. A little bit of a worrier, but that’s better than whoever else she could have gone out with.”
Warrick leaned back on the rail. “I… guess so, sir. But I see it the other way. Like she’s good to me.” His eyebrows knitted together in silence recriminations of himself and he quickly added, “In an innocent way.”
So much for honest.
Mr. Carlyle laughed again, not one that forced itself out this time, but a hearty chuckle. “We need to work on your bravery, Kaine. Christina’s already had a few close calls with some of the strange and dangerous things in this town and I don’t want to hear of you turning tail if it happens again, God forbid.
“You don’t have to worry bout that, sir.” Because not only was he one of those strange and dangerous things, but so was Tink, “I’d never do that. I’m not like good at talking to people and stuff, but believe me, I’d do anything I could to keep Tink safe.”
In the silence that followed, Warrick scratched his neck idly. “Uh… so why are you happy I’m not happy?”
Mr. Carlyle shook his head. “Because I’m not. Allies not. Happy for her, but still, it’s hard to really keep in mind that this is the best for her just now, isn’t it?” Warrick shook his head. “I’ll just assume you’re smart enough to know what that means. Not sure you two have said it to each other…”
“We have.” The words just flew out of Warrick’s mouth, and he turned red at hearing them. “Um…” He gave up when he saw the older man nod as if he’d expected it. “…yeah…”
As an act of mercy, Mr. Carlyle changed the subject. “She’s my youngest. The only girl too. And going the farthest way, but I’ve been through this three times with my kids and plenty more other times in my life. Just thought I’d let you know it’s normal. And it’ll pass.”
“Thank you, sir.” Warrick studied the tiled floor.
“Yep.” Mr. Carlyle rumbled as he stood up from the bench and crackled his neck. “It’ll pass. Sometimes I forget that part too. Listen, me and the boys, we’re going to go and get a drink. You want to come?”
Warrick considered it a moment, but shook his head. “Thanks, but I’d better not. I’ve got a paper due.”
“They have papers in acting class?”
A small, rueful smirk came to Warrick’s face. “We have pilates, yoga and these weird therapy sessions in acting. My paper’s lab report for Chemistry. Come to think of it, we haven’t done any acting in Acting since school started…”
Mr. Carlyle nodded. “Two things I know nothing about.” He stepped forward and offered his big, callused hand. “Well, I suppose I’ll see you again when Christina is home for Thanksgiving.”
“Yes sir.” Warrick nodded, He’d already bought his ticket for the high speed rail so he could spend a day back in Mayfield out of his week back home in New York, and Tink had done the same in reverse. “Thanks again for the invite… and the advice.”
They shook, then Mr. Carlyle thumped him on the shoulder and headed off to find his sons.
Warrick turned back to the window and tried to figure out which plane Tink was on. He soon spotted it; the only one with the word ‘Britain’ on the side, and watched as it taxied out from the boarding dock, engaged its VTOL, and rose into the air before slowly but steadily accelerating upward and to the east.
He remained there until he couldn’t see the plane anymore, then reluctantly quit his vigil to go gather up the debris from the last meal they’d shared together to throw away.
On his way out, he thought back to what Mr. Carlyle had said about how it would pass. He knew it was true on a basic level.
But that didn’t mean it would pass soon.
About Vaal
Landon Porter is the author of
The Descendants and
Rune Breaker. Follow him on Twitter
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