The Long Flight Home
      Chapter 4
 

The thief comes only to steal, and kill, and destroy--John 10:10

Pilar grabbed Michelle's arm and pulled her, running through the rainy downpour towards a long, sleek black Limo sitting at the curb. A fleeting thought ran through Michelle's mind at the sight of the imposing vehicle. On this wild, stormy night, the Limo almost looked like a hearse from some bad horror flick. It didn't help that the wind was fiercely blowing, and that the rain was coming in horizontal sheets, lashing herself and Pilar with stinging ferocity. As Pilar flung the car door open the wind caught it and loosing her grip she dove into the backseat collapsing onto the rich leather seats. Michelle jumped in too battling the winds that buffeted the door in an attempt to close it. Achieving her goal, Michelle fell back onto her seat in a heap. Almost instantly she and Pilar broke out in fits of giggles. Pilar's hair hung in wet strands around her face, and her mascara was starting to run down her cheeks in tiny rivulets. She still looked beautiful, Michelle thought. Sparing herself a glance in the rear view mirror, Michelle almost shrieked. Her once tamed curls were now a tangled mass. Her pale face was blotchy where the hard rain had struck her delicate skin. She wasn't even going to look at her clothes. Her wool sweater was wet and the pungent smell of it assailed her nostrils. Oh, but she hated the smell of wet wool. Easing her soaked sweater off, she put it in a heap on the floor of the Limo.

The thunder outside the Limo increased in tempo and timing. The lightning seemed brighter and closer. It angrily zigzagged across the sky in grotesque lines. Michelle shivered despite herself. She began the ritual of childhood, and timed the intervals between cracks of thunder and their corresponding flashes of light. For some reason, this hold over from her childhood comforted her. She remembered many a stormy night when her father had sat on the back porch with her, slowly counting the seconds, sometimes minutes in between the thunder and lightning. She also remembered the smell of sulfur that was carried on the winds of the very worst of storms. This storm looked like it was going to be one of those. Michelle was almost tempted to open the limo window and take a whiff of air, but she stopped herself short when Pilar asked what she was thinking. Shaking her head, she answered, "not much", with a short laugh. She didn't want Pilar to think she was a crazy nut, so she kept her concerns about the storm to herself.

Pilar had taken much better advantage of her time than Michelle had with her gloom and doom musings. Her hair was combed back into a sleek wave, and she had repaired he make-up. Pilar smiled at Michelle's wide-eyed looked and said: "You must always look your best, no? You never know when opportunity might knock, if you know what I mean?" Michelle gave an answering smile and looking back out the window saw her face reflected in it as yet another brilliant flash of light lit up the car and surrounding area. Pilar was right, but Michelle had no one to be beautiful for now, and honestly didn't know if she ever would find her one true soulmate. As the lightning faded away, so did her reflection and the pain she had seen in her eyes.

There was movement from the back of the Limo as Jimmy struggled to stow all of Pilar's bags and carry on totes. Both she and Pilar giggled at the thought of Jimmy out braving the elements over clothes, shoes, scarves, perfumes, chocolates, and those silly, open air marketplace finds of Michelle's. Jimmy had looked to be a hard man. He had barely cracked a smile as he had met the two women at the airport. He had been dressed appropriately in all black, which only helped to cement the whole horror show fantasy in Michelle's mind. He was a wiry man, with black, cold, fathomless eyes. Michelle had never liked cold eyes. If your eyes were the windows to your soul, then this man looked like he had no soul. Even though it was really no concern of hers, she didn't like the thought of Pilar having this man drive her around. The Santos's were reputed to be harsh and swift in their dealings, so, she guessed having harsh employees was part of their lifestyle too. Maybe he was Pilar's bodyguard, Michelle thought. She wasn't about to ask though, she had been raised to be polite and not be nosy, but still she wondered…

Michelle caught Pilar looking out her window and sighing. Michelle heard her mutter a soft "damn." "Is everything all right Pilar", she asked? "Everything would be much better if this storm would blow away", Pilar grimaced. "I don't like storms, they have scared me all my life. When I was a little girl, I would hide, screaming, under my bed until someone came to find me. It was usually Danny." Pilar's whole face lit up after this comment. You could see her love for her brother in her eyes. Pilar continued, "Danny would find me huddled under my bed, with my hands over my ears. He was always so gentle with me. You know he wasn't much older than me, but he was wise beyond his years even then. He would coax me out from under my bed and sit with me in the window seat of my bedroom. He would tell me how the thunder was God moving furniture in heaven, and the rain was the tears of the angels".

Michelle felt a softening in her heart when she heard this. She could picture the young boy sitting with his little sister looking out at the storm, probably frightened himself, but being brave, nonetheless. She could see his skinny little arm huddled around her thin shoulders as they kneeled looking straight out into the dark night. The vision of the gentle young boy and the fragile young girl made the harsh visage of the man moving around outside the Limo more palatable.

Michelle was aware that Pilar was still speaking, so she turned her attention away from her thoughts, back to the soft tones of Pilar's voice. "After the storm died down, and the clouds rolled away, Danny would show me the stars. One night, long ago, I picked a special star with Danny's help. He told me that it was our very own special star, and when I was feeling frightened or down, all I had to do was look for our star, and then I would not feel so alone or lost. When I left for school in Europe I looked at my star every night, hoping he was looking too. I make a wish for his happiness every evening on that star. Do you think I am silly for doing this?" Michelle could hardly answer. She had a huge lump in her throat.

With tears shimmering in her eyes, she could only shake her head no. A kaleidoscope of memories came spinning back to her. In her minds eye, she vividly saw herself and her mother gazing up at the stars, and sharing dreams, some funny, some serious. Michelle still found herself oftentimes looking to the night sky, wondering if her mother, looking down from heaven, saw the same stars she did.

The slamming of the drivers door brought Michelle out of her thoughts with a startle. "Finally", Pilar grumbled. "I am tired, and wet, and I'd like to get home, now!" Michelle echoed her thoughts exactly. She needed rest. She was overtired and teary-eyed. It has to be jet lag, she thought. She would certainly feel more like herself after a good night's rest. "Michelle", Pilar whispered in a conspirital tone. Michelle swiveled her head to see the light of mischief in Pilar's eyes. "Now our fun begins. Jimmy is such a prune face, that I can't help myself but to get his goat! Remember when I told you that he hates me to play with the window that separates the drive and passenger compartment? Well, buckle your seat belt because the fun is about to begin!"

As Jimmy adjusted the rear view mirror, he caught the gleaming eyes of Pilar, and the doe-like wary eyes of her passenger. He could tell that the little bitch Pilar was up to no good. God, but how he hated her and her family. He had lived for this day, and this moment of triumph. Nothing was to get in the way. The storm would be the perfect cover-up. He had planned for this moment for so long, and it had to be kismet that the weather perfectly mirrored his anger and bitterness. No one would question the violence of a car accident, especially on a night like this. Hopefully, the little bitch wouldn't start playing her usual games with him. He fingered the muzzle of the .45 magnum sitting on the passenger seat next to him. He was itching to do her and her little friend now, but he must be patient. His time for glory would come soon enough. Forcing a smile to his face, and lightly stroking the barrel of the gun, he asked if they were safely buckled in and ready to leave. A heartfelt, "yes" was uttered by both the backseat occupants. Nodding, he slowly pulled away from the curb, merging into the sparse airport traffic and swiftly moving toward the yawning blackness which waited in front of them.