Into the Aether_Part One(6)

Another escalator appeared before them. To Aaron’s disappointment, August let go of his arm and held onto the bannister. A large sign came into view reading ‘Canada Customs’. The pair walked through a row of open glass doors, where they joined the hundreds of people already standing in almost thirty separate lines.

“I’ll guide you to the shortest line,” said Aaron, and August nodded.

August stood in front of him, her red hair flowing down to the middle of her back. “August, I can't shake this funny feeling that I've met you before,” he said. She turned her head to the right, her hand massaging her left temple.

“Is that what you tell every strange woman you meet on an airplane?” she asked with another half smile. Aaron snorted at this, although he did sense something a little strange or different about her.

“No other women right now,” he replied back, rubbing at the low, dull pain at the back of his head. “Have you ever been to a town named Dalhousie?”

August paused for a moment. “I have a few times,” she replied. “Maybe you have seen me at Alpaca Coffee?”

“The one across from Barbie's Antiques? No, thanks!” Aaron said, wrinkling his nose. “I've never developed a taste for coffee. I think I'm the only one in the country who hasn’t.”

A little girl in line across from them started giggling. “Mommy, he looks the same way you do when you wash Daddy's socks!” she said, looking at her mother and pointing at Aaron. The two older adults, whom Aaron assumed were the girl’s parents, looked at each other, and the mother turned red.

“That's not polite, Maya,” the mother said, scooping up the little girl in her arms.

Out of the mouths of babes, Aaron thought. August nodded, almost imperceptibly. He rubbed at his eyes, taking out his cell phone from his pants pocket. It was now 8:00 pm.

They made their way past customs without issue and walked toward the baggage claims. Large conveyers carried suitcases of almost every shape, size, and color. Aaron looked at the signs above each one for his flight number, but August was already walking past him to the second conveyor from the end. He started jogging toward her to say something when he realized she was standing at the correct one.

“Forgive me if I sound rude, but you are doing an incredible job of navigating your way around here!” he stated, catching up to her. She quickly removed her hand from her head. “Headache?”

She paused and said, “It is loud in here with all of these people. As for my navigating? I pride myself on my independence,” she replied.

“Alright, let's get your bag and get out of here, then. Which one is yours?”

“It is bright red,” she said.

And how would you know that? he thought.

“Or so I am told,” she added.

Aaron nodded, realized she wouldn't see this, and said, “Alright.” A bright red suitcase tottered along the conveyor just after Aaron’s luggage. He reached for both of them, and pulled them off the belt and onto the floor. He looked at the tag attached to the red case.

“Alric and Associates?” he asked, making sure he had grabbed the right suitcase.

“It is mine.”

“The name of your company?”

“It is. Alric was my father.”

A look of understanding filled Aaron's face. “That's why you had to take the position. It's a family business.” August nodded slowly. Aaron grabbed his well-worn suitcase and then said, “Let's get out of here,” pulling the suitcase behind him.

They walked onto the main concourse. Currency-converting kiosks lined the area, along with small shops, coffee bars, and hoards of people. Directly ahead of them was the exit. Taxis, buses, and sedans all vied for space along the busy pickup area. August continued walking straight ahead as Aaron spied a cozy little pub out of the corner of his eye. He gently took August by the elbow. She stopped and turned to him.

“August?” he asked, closing his eyes. “Would you like to have a drink with me?” Aaron opened them to see her head turned toward the direction of the pub; he guessed she was listening to how loud it was.

He now looked at her head on, in a light that didn't cast her in a ghostly pallor. August had her hair brushed back. She had an oval-shaped face with high cheekbones and a soft chin. Her eyes were barely visible behind the dark sunglasses.

“I am going to call it a night. Thank you for the offer, though,” she replied, putting her hand in front of her. He lightly grasped it.

“Thank you for the conversation. Do you think we could get together at some point during my stay here?” he asked.

“We will have to see,” she replied with a smile. He thought he could get used to seeing that smile. “Aaron?” she asked.

“Yes?”

“Could I have my hand back?” He looked down and realized, for the second time, he was still holding hers. He let go. She reached into the right side of her blazer and pulled out a small black case, which she flipped open. She removed a business card and handed it to him.

“Alric and Associates,” Aaron read out loud. He pulled out his wallet and slipped it in with the Canadian money.

“Talk to you soon,” she said, an amused expression on her face. She took the handle of her suitcase and wheeled it around behind her as she turned and walked away.