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And then I told her the rest. I stood in the galley and condensed a drama of twenty years to twenty minutes. As I talked, Janelle’s eyebrows crept up her forehead and her eyes widened beyond all expectation. I think she was actually holding her breath.
Finally, she let out a low whistle. “Flight attendants hear a lot of tales, Miss Larkin,” the disbelief in her voice was palpable.
“Liss, please. Everyone calls me Liss,” I interrupted her.
“Liss, girl, let me tell you this. Flight attendants hear a lot of tales. But this one tops them all. To think that man would even speak to you! You must have got under his skin good.”
I shrugged. On some level, the level of say, the steady stream of texts that pinged and popped across my devices, the unselfconscious selfies, the invitations to spend an hour enjoying coffee together half a world away, I must have done so. Not that it figured to matter once he knew what I had done this time.
“I hear a lot of tales,” she repeated. “And all I can say is truth is stranger than fiction, of that I’m certain. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
She offered me another bottle of water and I returned to my seat, snuggling back into the nest of pillows and blankets I had made for myself. If I pinched myself hard enough maybe I would awake at home in my own bed, as I had almost every night since the pandemic first stretched its fingers around the world. Surely that would be for the best.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
For all thatsome perceive as brashness on my part, I have never been bold. Without a legitimate, professional reason for reaching across time and space, I never would have sent Nao Kao so much as that initial message on LinkedIn, threads of any color, invisible or otherwise, notwithstanding. Without that message, there would not have been the ceaseless string of texts and emails that have colored my days since that fateful decision, nor the constant churn of questions or memories in my mind.
Maybe I should have simply asked for a favor. In retrospect, I probably could have. If our roles had been reversed, I realize now, I would not have minded, would not have found it rude. Undoubtedly, it would have been easier. Less fun, but easier. I am sensitive to the trope of the ugly American though, and bursting out with the request seemed more than a little gauche. There was also the fact that the favor would involve working directly with me, a prospect I understood only too clearly that Nao Kao might not relish. I needed to gauge whether I was actually a pleasant surprise, or whether he was simply too polite to indicate otherwise.
To do this right, I needed to tread carefully. Two lines on LinkedIn are one thing. Sharing the texture of your life with someone with whom you once shared so much, but with whom you haven’t spoken in nearly two decades is another matter entirely. To say nothing of the fact that I needed to address the elephant in the room, to acknowledge that some kind of explanation was in order. And then I offered to vanish back into the ether.
What I lack in boldness, I more than make up for in curiosity. When Nao Kao replied to my email, he wrote of his career, his colleagues, his children, his extended family, and even his pets. Only by reading between the lines could I recognize the omission. About my suggestion to disappear, Nao Kao said not a word. It was time to harness the power of the internet to see what I could learn.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
“You’ve never beento the Big House?” I asked Nao Kao in August, before the start of fall semester.
“No, Liss, of course not. I barely arrived in this country before football season started last year. American football. I think it was November before I understood the importance of football as a way to understand the university, to understand the U.S., even. And then to go sit in the cold on a Saturday afternoon? I thought maybe this year, earlier in the season.”
“You’re right, sadly, about the importance of football to understanding this country. But you’re wrong about something else,” I told him.
“What’s that?”
“Sitting in the cold. Students stand.”
“Stand?”
“Yes, for the whole game. The student section always stands. That’s where the tickets will be, right?’
“I assume so, la. But will you come?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Because?”
“Because football is ruining college. All of athletics is. But football most of all.”
“Americanfootball,” Nao Kao clarified, a glint in his eye. “Because football as it is played in every other country would be an improvement.”
“I’ll have you know that Alex, the guy who dumped me at Good Time Charlie’s and then stuck me with the bill for the beer and nachos, was a soccer player. So, I’m no fan of football, American style or international style! At least not on this campus!”
Nao Kao laughed.
“There is only ever one way to win an argument with you, la.”
