Doubletake
Chapter Two
There was a McDonald's down at the other end of the terminal. When Fillmore got there he fished through his wallet and found his McDonald's meal card, the one he won at the carnival two months ago. Five stamps so far -- only two more and he'd get a free Spiderman toy.
"Hi, what can I get for you today?" The girl at the counter looked like she was thirteen. Lots of freckles.
"I'll take a cheeseburger." Fillmore fidgeted with the card.
"That'll be two dollars and seven cents."
He pulled out two ragged dollar bills from his wallet and then reached into his other pocket and found a dime there. "Here you go."
"Three cents is your change," said the girl.
"No, no, you keep it." Fillmore smiled without showing his teeth. His top front tooth had gotten knocked out on the swingset a year ago, but since it wasn't a baby tooth it hadn't grown back in. And Fillmore hadn't had time to get a plastic one made, so he never showed his teeth when he smiled.
"Thanks, I guess. One moment please." She started walking to the back room to get the cheeseburger.
"Wait!" Fillmore knocked on the counter three times. "Can you stamp my card?"
"Oh, yeah. Sorry about that." She came back and stamped it.
While she was getting his burger, he looked around. There weren't very many people there, except for one table where a large group of people crowded around, looking at something. Some of them seemed very excited. Fillmore looked back across the counter but there was no sign of the girl, so he walked over to the table.
All of the people were Asian except for a girl at the other end of the table. Fillmore got up on his tiptoes and leaned over to see what they were looking at. There was nothing there. The only thing on the table was a tray with a milkshake. The girl was eating it with a spoon, but nobody was looking at it.
"Your cheeseburger is ready!" said the girl at the counter.
"Just a second," Fillmore cried back.
The girl at the table looked up, pushing her long red bangs away from her eyes. "What are you doing?" She said something in a weird language and all of the Asians stopped talking and looked up at Fillmore.
"I was just curious," he said. "What are you all looking at?"
"Nothing." She frowned and glanced at one of the Asians, a skinny boy in a polo shirt and shorts. He left the group and walked over to the counter, then returned holding the tray.
"Hey, that's my cheeseburger! Thief!"
"Hold on a second," said the red-haired girl. "He's not stealing it." She said something else to him and he handed Fillmore the tray. "Take a seat." She motioned to the seat across from her.
"I can't," he said. "My plane is leaving in five minutes."
"Sit!" She stood up and pointed at the seat.
"No, really, I can't. But what were you looking at?"
Two of the shorter Asians next to him grabbed his arms and pushed him into the chair.
"Wait, help!" Fillmore cried.
"Quiet," the girl shot back. "Are you crazy?"
Just then her eyes grew wide. She muttered something in the weird language and all of the Asians scattered.
"What's going on here?" said Smith. He stood next to Anderson, who was at least seven feet tall.
The girl swallowed. "Nothing, nothing. See ya." And she darted out of the restaurant.
"Hurry, Fillmore, the plane's about to leave," said Anderson as he looked down at Fillmore's cheeseburger. "Can I have some?"
"No." Fillmore looked at his burger. "Well, yes, but only a little bit."
"Come on," said Smith, grabbing hold of Fillmore's arm roughly. "We're going to be late."
They briskly walked back to the other end of the terminal. There was already a line of people in front of the ticket counter. Fillmore broke free of Smith's grasp and went to where his bag was. But it wasn't there anymore. Fillmore spun around. "Where's my bag!"
Smith waved his hand in an annoyed gesture. "Not so loud. We already got it loaded onto the plane. Here's your ticket." He handed Fillmore the ticket.
"Next, please," said the ticket lady. Fillmore stepped up and glanced back at Smith as he gave her his ticket, but Smith was looking down at something in his hand. "Ah, you again. I'm glad to see you have a real ticket this time."
Fillmore blushed. "Yes."
"Next, please." Fillmore walked ahead into the long hallway leading to the plane. There was a family in front of him, a mom and a dad and three kids. His family was like that -- Mom, Dad, his older brother George, his older sister Tanya, and him. They came to a fork in the hallway. The family went left. Fillmore began to follow.
"Wait," said Smith, grabbing his shoulder. "Not that way." He motioned to the right.
"But everyone else is going this way."
Smith smiled. "We have special first class seating."
"Oh," replied Fillmore. "Okay."
"I'll lead the way." Smith kept hold of Fillmore's arm and off they went down the path to the right.
Thirty seconds later, the airplane hatch came into view. "Follow me," said Smith as he stepped up into the plane, still holding onto Fillmore's arm.
"I know," said Fillmore, looking up at the flight attendant. She had too much lipstick on but smiled back. Then Fillmore's foot went too high over the step and he fell to the ground, jerking Smith down with him. A few pieces of paper flew out of Smith's hand and landed next to Fillmore.
The attendant was still smiling. "Watch the step."
"Don't worry," Fillmore said, snatching up the pieces of paper. "I'm okay. I think these are yours," he continued, and extended the papers out to Smith. But then an interesting picture on the top one caught his eye, and he brought the papers back in to look at it. It was a circle with what looked like a giant spider inside. "What's this?"
In an instant Smith had grabbed the papers back from Fillmore and stuffed them inside his coat jacket. "Nothing, just some scratch paper I found in the airport. Let's go."
The airplane was smaller than Fillmore had expected. "Where's everyone?"
"What do you mean?" Smith pointed to a window seat. "Sit here."
Fillmore sat down and looked around. "I mean there's nobody here. Where'd they all go?"
The airplane began to back out away from the terminal. Smith sat down next to him. "This is first class, remember? Everyone else is sitting in the back in the normal seats."
"Oh," replied Fillmore. "Are they poor?"
Smith turned to Anderson, who was sitting across the aisle absorbed in a magazine. "This guy's nuts."
Fillmore stood up and accidentally hit his head on the luggage compartment. "I'm not! I'm perfectly normal."
"Whatever," Smith said and shrugged. "Hey, I'm going to take a nap, so if you don't mind..."
Just after he said that, the airplane turned onto the runway and began picking up speed, hurtling along like a racing hare. Fillmore's body felt heavier and heavier, like gravity was pulling it down and didn't want to let him go, but then the plane lifted and the feeling disappeared. Soon after that, however, his head felt like it was a balloon. He pretended to chew. It took two minutes of fake chewing and yawning before his ears popped and he could feel better. His head started drooping and it wasn't too long before his eyelids slid down.
