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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1780195-Trophy-Case-Chapter-6
Rated: E · Chapter · Biographical · #1780195
Invitations were sent out for a surprise seventy fifth birthday party
Trophy Case
Chapter VI

On time, just in the nick of time.


         Ten small words, not rehearsed, not expected. How could one truly know what a child will say that will leave you speechless?

         The clock in the front room read eleven. Giving the illusion of an heirloom timepiece, the swinging pendulum was battery operated and strictly ornamental. Taran was in a song and dance routine; his excitement was ignited by the forthcoming trip.  In the months prior to this day, plans had been made for us to fly to Utah. Invitations were sent out for a surprise seventy fifth birthday party for his grandpa Coulter.

         Our bags were packed and loaded in the truck. With tickets in hand, I stood at the front door waiting for Taran as he said his goodbyes to his Mother. Growing a little impatient, I called out, “Okay son it’s time to go. We don’t want to miss our flight.”

         Down on one knee, his mother gave him a kiss and said, “I love you buddy. Take care of your Daddy for me?”

         In his best grown up voice Taran replied, “Okay Mommy … Daddy will be safe with me.” Still in caricature he added. “You’ll need to stick close to me on the trip Daddy so you don’t get lost.”

         Holding in a laugh I replied, “Okay, I will. Don’t worry son, I will hold your hand every minute of the trip.”

         My bride walked with us to the truck, we exchanged hugs, then with a kiss, we said our goodbyes. As I backed out onto the road, Taran rolled down his window, his finger pointing at his eye he expressed his love to his Mother.

         Our flight was scheduled to take off in less than two and one half hours. Running behind we had just enough time to make it to the airport. On the road less than forty five minutes, we came across something we did not expect. An accident had the traffic at a standstill just short of the Springdale exit. It was backed up for about two miles. Taran had a puzzled look on his face as he turned towards me and said, “What’s going on Daddy? Why are we stopped?”

         “Nothing to worry about buddy,” I assured him, “I’m sure we will be on our way in no time.”

         “But Daddy, do you see the Popo?”

         Popo was Tarans word for police. I did see the Highway patrol; two of them passed us only a couple miles back, so I thought it was time for a little white lie. “Yah, well someone must have been speeding and got caught.”

         What it must be like to have the thoughts of a seven year old. Dismissing our delay, Taran reached for the volume knob on the radio. With a quick twist the silence inside the cab was replaced with the sounds from an old time rock station. The song was very familiar to my generation. What came as a surprise was Taran singing word for word the lyrics from an old Rolling Stones song. “Jumping Jack flash it’s a gas, gas, gas………”

         Relaxing back in my seat with song lyrics in my head, I began to worry. Checking the time, it occurred to me this delay is going to be responsible for us missing our flight.  Scrolling through the contacts list on my phone my anxiety grew. The time to act was now. Looking down the list I finally came across our travel agent’s number. Without hesitation I dialed. There was a long pause then a static sounding ring.
With a pleasant but business like female voice, the agent answered, “Good afternoon. Air West Travel. How may we help you with your travel plans today?”

         Almost cutting her off before she made it through her welcome, I started to ramble. “Hello, Thank God I got you. My name is Bruce Holt We have flight tickets today on Las Vegas flight 1292. My confirmation number is **##*#.”

         Her voice took on a curious tone. “Yes Mister. Holt, How may we be of assistance today?”

         “Well,” I replied, “It’s like this; my son and I are on our way to the airport and there has been an accident. We have been stopped in traffic for the last Thirty-five minutes.”

         “Okay Mister Holt, How far is the airport from your current location?”

          “About one hour away.”

         In a moment one can be defined as going beyond the call of duty. This is exactly what our travel agent did.  Instead of simply telling me to do the best I can to get to the airport, she took charge of the situation.

         “Mister Holt if you can stay on the line, I will try to get the airlines on the other line. May I put you on hold?”

         Without a lot of thought, sarcastically I replied, “Yah, I guess we’re not going anywhere.”

         Now I have classical music playing in one ear, and rock filling the rest of the cab. Not really listening to ether my thoughts took over... Crap, were not going to make our flight. If we could just get going. Why do they play such bad music when you’re on hold? I know it was just a couple minutes, although it seemed like an eternity, the classical music stopped, then a series of beeps…. “Hello Mister Holt, are you still with us?”

         “Yah I’m still here.”

         “Great. Good news. I have the airline on the other line. Are you moving yet?”

         “No not yet… wait… I think… yes, yes we are.”

         With her reply I could hear the relief in her voice. “Fantastic. Did you say you are an hour out?”
“About that, although even if I drive at or above the speed limit, we will arrive just in time to watch our flight as it takes off.”

         With every minute my anxiety grew. The only thing that kept grounded, (no pun intended) was a calm voice on my phone. Beyond the call of duty was an understatement. Every step of the way she kept the airline informed on our progress. In a mental note, I vowed that somehow I would let the agency know what she did for us that day.  We pulled up to the airport with only ten minutes till the scheduled departure time. With bags in one hand, and Taran gripping my other, we ran to the check-in counter.

         If I ever needed an example of a time when everything just clicked this would be it. From the extraordinary travel agent to the clerk who escorted us from check-in all the way through security. Everything that day was stacked against us and it was amazing to me the flight departed only a couple minutes late.

         Our assigned seats were directly behind the wing, and our window view was exceptional. Taran and I would take turns looking out at the scenery below, as I tried to point out landmarks. It took a little over four hours to fly from Tulsa, Oklahoma to Las Vegas, Nevada. Evan though it was summertime and the seasonal temperatures on the ground is normally in the eighties or nineties, this is never the case on an airliner. After about two hours and three cups of airline coffee, attempting to stay warm I curled up almost in the fetal position and fell asleep.


         Exposed to the elements; a chill raised the hair on my arms as I woke. Rolling down my sleeves; l welcomed the warmth replacing my discomfort. The flight attendants gathered empty wrappers and cups, as the flight Captains’ voice echoed through the cabin. “It is my pleasure to inform the passengers of flight 1292 we will be arriving on time. Las Vegas has a current temperature of 85 degrees………”

         Taran fell sound asleep about forty-five minutes into the flight, and was out almost the entire trip. With a tug on his sleeve, I gently woke him. Putting my seat in the upright position I whispered, “Hey Buddy, were in Las Vegas.”

         Taran stretched his legs; a smile was the only thing I could see as he rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands. “Are we really in Vegas Daddy?”

         “Yes we are bud, we will be landing soon.” 


         The clinking of coins dropping into metal trays, mixed with bells and rhythmic run-up tones, created music almost like a symphony.  Filled with awe, Taran gazed at the casino like setup of the airport corridors. His curiosity grew with each step. “Daddy, is this Vegas? It’s different from what we’ve seen on TV.”

         “No Son, This is only the airport. Wait till you see the city.”

         Tilting his head slightly to one side, raising one eyebrow in a Spock like fashion, his reply was inquisitive. “What, there’s more?”

         As a child my imagination was probably not that different than Taran’s. With each family vacation I too experienced the excitement, curiosity, and the wonders of the unknown. Later in life I had an epiphany. As we travel, we only see what is directly in front of us. Never being here before, we do not know what lies just out of our view.  With each mile one would experience new sights and smells.  I refer to this as having tunnel vision. 


         Taran slid his hand under mine, with his fingers almost completely wrapped around mine. This set my mind in motion once again.  Those are the hands of a wide receiver if I have ever seen one. He looked up at me, and just like he rehearsed earlier that day. “Stay close to me Daddy; I don’t want you to get lost.”

         “Okay son, I think we need to get our rental car?”

         “Yep,” He said with a smile, “You don’t think we’re going to walk to Utah?”

         The rental car company was just a short shuttle ride from the airport.  Though not your typical car rental, this particular company covered about an acre of ground.    Four awnings covered double rows of parked cars. With both hands and face pressed against the shuttle window, Tarans eyes were about as big as I had ever seen. “What… get out of here?” he said under his breath.

         Not losing sight of the cars in the lot he turned his face just slightly from the glass. “Daddy, are we going to get to drive a Corvette?”

         “Not This time buddy, How about a PT Cruiser?”

         His reply really didn’t surprise me, although surely he was a little letdown. “Heck yah that would be too cool.”

         The shuttle pulled up directly in front of a set of glass doors. Once again hand in hand Taran led me inside. Roped off cattle runs led to a checkout counter positioned to the back of the room. The entire area was empty, other than a middle aged oriental lady sitting just behind the center checkout. It was pointless to me to walk through the cattle runs. With a side step we preceded down an isle next to the runs. Approaching the counter we were stopped dead in our tracks. The sales clerk looked over a pair of dark rimmed eyeglasses. Slightly raising her head with her right hand raised palm out, her comment is something I will never forget. With a foreign accent she said, “Behine line preeze!”

         Annoyed by the fact that we were alone, I did not move. Her eyes moved back to the papers on the counter, with her hand still in the air she repeated, “Behine line… preeze step behine line.”

         At times like these I can be a little over dramatic. Stretching my left leg out almost vertically behind my body, I held it that way for about five seconds. Still leaning forward towards the counter, I rocked back and forth over the line. Taran on the other hand took a step backwards and placed his toes directly behind the line.

         The clerk sat thumbing through the paperwork in front her for about three or more minutes. What she did next was something I would talk about for years when I needed a comical anecdote. Looking over the top of her glasses, her gaze swept from one side of the room, then the other, never once making eye contact with us, the palm of hand faced backwards as she raised her left arm and waved us forward. I don’t know if it was the theatrics or accent, but what she said next through me into a laughing frenzy of epic proportions.   

         As serious as any professional could be she said, “Neks preeze.”

         Trying to hold in my laughter a snork rumbled through my nose. Regaining my composure what I should have said ‘Oh that would be us.’ Instead I played into the clerks theatrics; turned my upper body as if someone was directly behind us. Slightly tipping my upper body swept my left arm from back to front as I said, “You go ahead; we are not in that big a hurry.”   

         She looked over her glasses directly at us as her voice took on a serious tone. Not amused by my method acting she replied, “Sir we are veirwe brizzy … necks preeze.” 

         After picking up our rental car it was time to head for the hotel. According to the plans laid out for the surprise birthday party, Taran and I would pick up my nephews Bryce and Justin, who would be flying in from Los Angeles in the morning.   

         With all the craziness of the day checking into the Hilton hotel came as a welcome relief. The night spent in Vegas would be full of, one on one time, with my son, just the two of us and a city that never sleeps. Gambling was the furthest from my mind this evening I had planned a father and son dinner, a walk down Las Vegas Boulevard, and the Star Trek experience. By the quirky little smile on Tarans face I believe he thoroughly enjoyed this evening.


         I’ll have to say the remainder of this trip went as planned. Grandpa Coulter was truly surprised, and became very emotional when he saw that Taran and I had made the trip just to celebrate his birthday. But the most heart wrenching part of the whole trip was the ten little words Taran said.

         Before we left to head back to Vegas, I left Taran with his grandmother for just a little while, so I could say goodbye to my sisters, nieces, and nephews’. Only gone for about one hour, I arrived back at Grandma and Grandpa’s house, I found Taran asleep in my mother’s arms. Rocking back and forth gently stroking his hair, her eyes full of tears. I was use to this, my mother always cries when one of the family is about to leave.

         Feeling the same I sat down beside her and said, “Were going to miss you. I love you Mom.”

         She looked at me and said, “I love you and I’m going to miss you too.”

         Her emotions seemed to be stronger than usual, so I had to ask “other than the obvious why are you crying so much?”

         “When you left your son sat by the front window watching for you to return.” Taking a swipe at the tears with a delicate white hankie she added, “When I ask him what he was doing he said.”

"I miss my daddy, and I love him so much.”


         With those ten small words my heart grew.

         If ask, in one word how would I describe our trip? Uneventful would not be my answer, quite the contrary. From the first minutes of this trip to the expression on grandpa Coulter’s face, I would say, “This birthday would not only be known as a Surprise, it was truly an adventure.   

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