Chapter 4
As usual Carter woke up a few minutes before his alarm was set to go off. That never ceases to amaze him. He must have some sort of internal clock or something. Anyway he reached over and turned off the alarm he really hated the sound that it makes, who doesn't? He laid in his bed for about five minutes trying to build up enough energy to get up. There was something he was supposed to do today but he couldn't quite think of it. He supposed that if it was that important he would remember it soon enough. Eventually he managed to get himself into an upright position and from there it was downhill. He began his normal morning procedure, toilet, shower, shave and get dressed. After he had done this he went over to his window and drew back the curtains. It looked a very pleasant day, a bit too pleasant for Chicago; there wasn't a cloud in the sky. It was like Chicago had been moved to the Caribbean during the night. The Caribbean? Then it stuck him. Abby! She was leaving today. He had to go stop her. He ran downstairs narrowly avoiding the maid who was busy dusting and was out the door before she could turn round to complain. He was in the Jeep trying to turn it on but as usual when he was in a hurry he just couldn't get the fit to key. Finally after several fanatic attempts he succeeds and turned the key. Even though this was a top of the range Jeep and he had just had it looked at he half expected it not to work. The sound of the engine starting was as beautiful a sound as he had ever heard. He was quickly out of the driveway and on his way to the airport.
Meanwhile (a la some superhero comic) across town Abby was also heading towards the airport. She had left before Carter and because of this was just arriving at its entrance. She had decided the night before what sort of holiday she wanted, a Pacific island paradise, and so only had to find an available flight. She parked in long stay parking and paid for a week. Then she entered the airport; she was always amazed by the amount of people in airports. And there was always a queue for the most bizarre places, this time it was for Budapest. She walked up to the information desk and enquired about Pacific island flights. She was told a complex system of instructions that are usually given after asking for directions. After taking the third left from the piece of African art hanging on the wall she arrived at the Pacific island section. She scanned a board with the different flights and chose one that was leaving in an hour. She approached the desk and a woman that was smiling a little too much. It was her that spoke first, "How can I help?"
"Can I book a place on flight ALM260884?"
The woman looked at her computer then back up at Abby. "Lucky for you we have some seats still available. How many would you like to book?"
"Just one." Abby could have sworn that the woman gave her a look that is usually reserved for those weird people you see talking to themselves in the middle of the street.
"Okay. That will be $2,225." Abby gave her a credit card and tried not to think too much about the money she had just spent. After a few minutes of typing, which Abby thought was her just randomly pressing keys, the woman asked, "Do you have any luggage?"
They both could see the suitcase that Abby was carrying but this one of those situations where the question has too be asked as part of 'company policy', "Yeah, this suitcase." She placed it on the conveyer belt and saw it disappear out of sight. Then Abby was handed a ticket and told to go through to the boarding area.
Abby walked over the area that had been pointed too and showed her ticket to another woman who told her to go through security. This consisted of the normal X-ray machine for her bag and the metal detector for her. She didn't mind the X-ray machine but she hated walking through metal detectors. She was always worried that it would go off repeatedly like in those comedy films and that everyone would be looking at her. It had never happened but she every time she walked through one she still though it would. However this time was like all the others she got through without any sort of incident. All she had to do now was to wait for a bit then she would be able to start her vacation and make the decision. That final part make her feel uncomfortable but the thought of a lovely golden beach soon cheered her up.
Carter had been driving like a maniac through the traffic-clogged streets of Chicago. So much so that he had attracted some very unwanted attention. Two police officers were sitting in their car by the side of the road staring out into the traffic when a Jeep suddenly sped past, "Here's another one."
The second police officer reached up to a switch and the car began to flash and a loud siren could be heard. "He must be going 30 or 40 over the limit."
"It's a Jeep. Probably some rich kid thinking that the rules don't apply to them. Got I hate them."
"Calm down. I know how you feel about the rich but you can't let that interfere with your work."
"It's just, it's just," The officer hands began to tightly clinch the steering wheel. "they think they are so much better than us."
The Jeep had slowed down by now and was being bought to a stop by the curve. "Maybe I should handle this one."
"No you did the last one." The officer who had been driving opened the door, got out and began to walk towards the Jeep.
Inside the Jeep Carter hadn't noticed how quickly he had been driving so the sound of the police siren was a great shock to him. He was nervously watching the approaching police officer and thinking that if this didn't take too long he could still make it to the airport before she left. There was a tap on his window and he rolled it down, "Oh, hello officer."
"Do you realise the speed limit is on this road?"
"Yes."
"And do you know how fast you were driving."
"I'm sorry but I'm in a hurry."
"You're in a hurry? Oh I'm sorry. That makes it all right then."
Carter was slightly shocked, "No that's not what I meant."
"Maybe they should change the speed limit law so that it says 50mph unless you are in a hurry."
"Okay, are you going to write me a ticket or not?"
"Now you are telling me how to do my job?"
"No. I was just."
The officer cut off Carter in mid-sentence. "You rich think you can order everyone about. Well I'm not one of your servants. I'm a Chicago police officer. Now will you please step out of the car."
"Why?"
"Sir, will you please step out of the car." The tone in his voice told Carter that he wouldn't be asking for a third time.
"Put your arms out straight and touch your nose."
"I haven't been drinking." The officer was about to repeat the request when Carter, realising that arguing wouldn't work, put out his arms and touched his nose. "See."
"Okay. Thank you, sir." The officer reached in his back pocket and pulled out a pad for writing up tickets. He asked for Carter's license and registration then proceeded to write the ticket. After he was done he motioned Carter to get back in his car then handed him the ticket. "Next time I suggest that you don't exceed the speed limit. Even if you are in a hurry." He said the last bit as he started to walk away.
Carter had to fight every urge in his body not to shout something at the retreating figure of the officer. He threw the ticket that was in his hand into the back without even looking at it. He pulled out into the traffic and was back on his race to the airport. This time however he kept a careful eye on the speedometer.
As usual Carter woke up a few minutes before his alarm was set to go off. That never ceases to amaze him. He must have some sort of internal clock or something. Anyway he reached over and turned off the alarm he really hated the sound that it makes, who doesn't? He laid in his bed for about five minutes trying to build up enough energy to get up. There was something he was supposed to do today but he couldn't quite think of it. He supposed that if it was that important he would remember it soon enough. Eventually he managed to get himself into an upright position and from there it was downhill. He began his normal morning procedure, toilet, shower, shave and get dressed. After he had done this he went over to his window and drew back the curtains. It looked a very pleasant day, a bit too pleasant for Chicago; there wasn't a cloud in the sky. It was like Chicago had been moved to the Caribbean during the night. The Caribbean? Then it stuck him. Abby! She was leaving today. He had to go stop her. He ran downstairs narrowly avoiding the maid who was busy dusting and was out the door before she could turn round to complain. He was in the Jeep trying to turn it on but as usual when he was in a hurry he just couldn't get the fit to key. Finally after several fanatic attempts he succeeds and turned the key. Even though this was a top of the range Jeep and he had just had it looked at he half expected it not to work. The sound of the engine starting was as beautiful a sound as he had ever heard. He was quickly out of the driveway and on his way to the airport.
Meanwhile (a la some superhero comic) across town Abby was also heading towards the airport. She had left before Carter and because of this was just arriving at its entrance. She had decided the night before what sort of holiday she wanted, a Pacific island paradise, and so only had to find an available flight. She parked in long stay parking and paid for a week. Then she entered the airport; she was always amazed by the amount of people in airports. And there was always a queue for the most bizarre places, this time it was for Budapest. She walked up to the information desk and enquired about Pacific island flights. She was told a complex system of instructions that are usually given after asking for directions. After taking the third left from the piece of African art hanging on the wall she arrived at the Pacific island section. She scanned a board with the different flights and chose one that was leaving in an hour. She approached the desk and a woman that was smiling a little too much. It was her that spoke first, "How can I help?"
"Can I book a place on flight ALM260884?"
The woman looked at her computer then back up at Abby. "Lucky for you we have some seats still available. How many would you like to book?"
"Just one." Abby could have sworn that the woman gave her a look that is usually reserved for those weird people you see talking to themselves in the middle of the street.
"Okay. That will be $2,225." Abby gave her a credit card and tried not to think too much about the money she had just spent. After a few minutes of typing, which Abby thought was her just randomly pressing keys, the woman asked, "Do you have any luggage?"
They both could see the suitcase that Abby was carrying but this one of those situations where the question has too be asked as part of 'company policy', "Yeah, this suitcase." She placed it on the conveyer belt and saw it disappear out of sight. Then Abby was handed a ticket and told to go through to the boarding area.
Abby walked over the area that had been pointed too and showed her ticket to another woman who told her to go through security. This consisted of the normal X-ray machine for her bag and the metal detector for her. She didn't mind the X-ray machine but she hated walking through metal detectors. She was always worried that it would go off repeatedly like in those comedy films and that everyone would be looking at her. It had never happened but she every time she walked through one she still though it would. However this time was like all the others she got through without any sort of incident. All she had to do now was to wait for a bit then she would be able to start her vacation and make the decision. That final part make her feel uncomfortable but the thought of a lovely golden beach soon cheered her up.
Carter had been driving like a maniac through the traffic-clogged streets of Chicago. So much so that he had attracted some very unwanted attention. Two police officers were sitting in their car by the side of the road staring out into the traffic when a Jeep suddenly sped past, "Here's another one."
The second police officer reached up to a switch and the car began to flash and a loud siren could be heard. "He must be going 30 or 40 over the limit."
"It's a Jeep. Probably some rich kid thinking that the rules don't apply to them. Got I hate them."
"Calm down. I know how you feel about the rich but you can't let that interfere with your work."
"It's just, it's just," The officer hands began to tightly clinch the steering wheel. "they think they are so much better than us."
The Jeep had slowed down by now and was being bought to a stop by the curve. "Maybe I should handle this one."
"No you did the last one." The officer who had been driving opened the door, got out and began to walk towards the Jeep.
Inside the Jeep Carter hadn't noticed how quickly he had been driving so the sound of the police siren was a great shock to him. He was nervously watching the approaching police officer and thinking that if this didn't take too long he could still make it to the airport before she left. There was a tap on his window and he rolled it down, "Oh, hello officer."
"Do you realise the speed limit is on this road?"
"Yes."
"And do you know how fast you were driving."
"I'm sorry but I'm in a hurry."
"You're in a hurry? Oh I'm sorry. That makes it all right then."
Carter was slightly shocked, "No that's not what I meant."
"Maybe they should change the speed limit law so that it says 50mph unless you are in a hurry."
"Okay, are you going to write me a ticket or not?"
"Now you are telling me how to do my job?"
"No. I was just."
The officer cut off Carter in mid-sentence. "You rich think you can order everyone about. Well I'm not one of your servants. I'm a Chicago police officer. Now will you please step out of the car."
"Why?"
"Sir, will you please step out of the car." The tone in his voice told Carter that he wouldn't be asking for a third time.
"Put your arms out straight and touch your nose."
"I haven't been drinking." The officer was about to repeat the request when Carter, realising that arguing wouldn't work, put out his arms and touched his nose. "See."
"Okay. Thank you, sir." The officer reached in his back pocket and pulled out a pad for writing up tickets. He asked for Carter's license and registration then proceeded to write the ticket. After he was done he motioned Carter to get back in his car then handed him the ticket. "Next time I suggest that you don't exceed the speed limit. Even if you are in a hurry." He said the last bit as he started to walk away.
Carter had to fight every urge in his body not to shout something at the retreating figure of the officer. He threw the ticket that was in his hand into the back without even looking at it. He pulled out into the traffic and was back on his race to the airport. This time however he kept a careful eye on the speedometer.
