​

     How much longer?

 

     The plane had taxied and connected to the gate. Why weren’t the doors open? His eyes darted from the window to the stewards at the front of the plane. His leg bounced, rattling the teapot on his lap. He clasped the lid tight against the round body.

 

     “I’m sorry,” he said to the pot then paused. “Yes, I promise.”

 

     A small girl a few rows ahead perked up and looked around. “What’s that noise, mommy?”

 

     At last, the “unfasten seatbelt” signal pinged. Without waiting, he pounced, sliding over the lap of the person seated next to him and rushing down the aisle.

 

     “Excuse me. Please, let me through. I need to get through.” He squeezed and pressed his way forward, careful to keep the teapot upright.  

 

     He ignored the attendants’ well wishes and sprinted up the ramp that stretched from there to Neverland. He emerged into the terminal. It was practically empty.

 

     The clock above the gate read 10:07 PM.

 

     “Excuse me,” he gasped at an attendant working the counter. “Where’s the exit?”

 

     The concerned woman looked at his wild, white hair and beaded forehead then pointed to the right. Without a thank you, he was off.

 

     The terminal went on forever. The hip repaired last spring and the cartilage diminished knees strained under the forced movement. Pain screamed from every worn and weary part of his aged frame. Yet, he pushed on until, at last, gasping for air, he finally fell to his knees. His fragile cargo nearly fell with him. Tipping back the lid, he peered inside. “Sorry,” he wheezed, then quickly replaced it.

 

     “Are you all right, sir?” a young man asked.

 

     The old man shook his head. “How much farther to the exit?” he said, gulping air as if he were being strangled.

 

     “You’re almost there,” the young man said, pointing up and behind him.

 

     Sweat burned the old man’s eyes. A blue and silver sign hung from the ceiling. He couldn’t make out the text, but the luggage, restroom, and transportation icons told him he was close. “Help me up,” he pleaded. The young man reached down to take the pearly teapot from his hand to aid him. The old man slapped it away.

​

     “Don’t you touch that,” he barked.

​

     The younger man recoiled, his eyes widening.  “I’m sorry. Here…” He hoisted the elderly man by the elbow instead, careful not to jostle him and his precious crockery.

 

     Again, without any show of gratitude, the old man rushed ahead. After a few minutes, he saw the security exit. The officer might have said something as he hobbled by, but the old man forged onward without recognizing him.

 

     “Excuse me. Excuse me. Please, excuse me,” he said, pushing his way down the escalator. Several people made way for the harried man as he rubbed past them.

 

     At the bottom, he glanced around. Luggage pickup was on the right, transportation directly ahead. He veered left for the pick-up zone. He hadn’t gone far when he saw them.

 

     Coming toward him in the sparse terminal were a man and woman pushing a girl in a wheelchair.

 

     “Dad!” the father called as he surged the chair forward. His father did not return the greeting, nor did he acknowledge his daughter-in-law’s attempt to hug him when they met before a gift kiosk. Instead, the old man focused on the young child.

 

     Her beautiful brown skin was now ashen. Dark circles lined tired eyes. But the apparent fatigue melted away when she saw him. The bald head lifted, and those black sapphire eyes widened and shined.

 

     “Grandpa,” she cried in a weak, yet excited voice.

 

     The old man fell before her. The sparkle in those eyes made the pounding in his chest worth the hurt. “Look, my beautiful girl,” he grinned. “Look inside.” His hands trembled as they placed the pot in her lap.

 

     With a bone-thin hand, she lifted the top of the time-worn kettle and looked inside. The old man had seen many wonderous things in his long life. Sunrises that lit the world and took his breath away. None, however, compared to the light and joy that bloomed on that young one’s face as she looked upon her treasure.

 

     “I can’t believe you found one!” she exclaimed, a small tear forming in her eye.

 

     “I told you I would,” he said softly, catching the tear with an ebony finger “It was a promise, and I always keep my promises. Now, listen…that sound. Only those that believe can hear it.”

 

     “I hear it!” she said excitedly. “I hear it!”

 

     The granddaughter’s parents peeked inside at the wonder then embraced her.

 

     Her father then assisted his father from the tiled floor. A concerned terminal attendant brought over another wheelchair and the parents pushed the old and young to their vehicle.

 

     Once inside the family van, the grandfather placed his arm around his little belle and listened to her sweet voice echo in the teapot as they drove. After several minutes, she tired and laid her head on his chest. The top of the pot was left open as she slept.

 

     The grandfather’s arm encircled her. The feeling warmed his spirit. Love didn’t get any purer. Then he started. He checked again. His chest tightened. Water blinked in his eyes. “Junior,” he said, his voice quivering. “I think it best you take me back to the airport now.”

 

     His son glanced back from the driver’s seat. “Why, Dad? Did you forget something?”

 

     The car pulled off the road. The son and his wife looked back. A golden figure of light, wings as intricate and delicate as lace, lifted from the pot and hovered in the air.

 

     “No, son,” the grandfather sighed. “This little gal said she’d stay until Felicia passed, with the promise that I take her home once that happened.”

 

     The little figure fluttered next to the girl’s cheek, stroked it softly then kissed it.

 

     “And I always keep my promises.”