Dark Waves of Discovery

Story by: MiyaK

Chapter 8 — Opal Scott

“Cancel our flights?!” Mom exclaimed to the ticket agent. “No, of course not! Why would you ask us such a thing?”

The agent sighed. My eyes were drawn to her neat bun, a token of sanity amidst the frenzy I’d experienced all morning. Her name tag read Alicia Estrada.  “Ma’am, it’s okay if you can’t, but we are simply asking you to consider it if you don’t absolutely have to leave today. We will, of course, reschedule your flight to a better seat on a flight leaving tomorrow or anytime later in the week. Do you see that little girl over there?” She pointed a manicured finger coated in glossy red nail polish towards the waiting area where hundreds of people seemed to be cluttered.

“Which one?” asked Mom, squinting her eyes. The airport crowds were especially hectic. “There are thousands of people in that waiting area and you want me to look at one girl.”

Alicia Estrada, who was obviously trying her best to present this case to us, looked first at the crowd gathering behind us, then at the waiting area. She twirled a tiny curl that had escaped her bun around her fingers. “She has on a blue t-shirt and her right foot is wrapped in a bandage. She is sitting near the window closest to our right with that dark-haired man. Do you see them?”

“I think so,” Elizabeth responded. “Oh no, look, she’s crying now.”

“She injured her foot earlier today and they need to fly out to get special care for it at a hospital in Dallas. Originally, they were scheduled to leave on the same flight you are about to board. But our website, being overloaded with the people frantically trying to get away from the tsunami, made a slight error just after you booked a flight. It said the flight was open even though you had booked it for your family,” she paused.

“That’s —” Mom started, but Ms. Estrada soldiered on.

“I’m terribly sorry. Since it was you who booked the flight first, I’m not requiring you to give up a seat. We can ask other passengers. But please, consider it,” she said.

For a moment, there was silence. Then Mom spoke. “I really hope that someone else will be willing to switch their flight, but in our case, we really need to —”

“I’ll stay behind,” I cut her off, before I knew what I was doing.

“Opal!” cried Elizabeth. “No!”

“Why would you even think of doing something like this?” demanded Mom.

“I said, ‘I will stay behind’,” I repeated, emphasizing the statement. “Mom, you know our situation isn’t as much of an emergency as theirs is. I can come to Texas on a later flight. I can give up my seat.”

“But where will you stay? The weather announcer said the wave is moving at record speed and it is expected to arrive near the coast several hours earlier than predicted. What are the chances you can board a flight before then? Of course, our home isn’t safe,” Mom cautioned.

“I’ll stay here, in one of those temporary shelters they set up to help people who can’t evacuate as far away from their homes. We passed one on the way here, just a few minutes away.”

Mom pursed her lips, unconvinced.

“Mom, Elizabeth, this is the best plan. We can’t just sit coldhearted on our perfectly arranged flight when there are other hurting people out there, needing help,” I pressed my case, still not sure if I actually wanted to do this. I was definitely scared. I had experienced so much sadness over the past few hours. Things I couldn’t control were forcing me to make decisions that I didn’t want to make. But here was a situation that was in my power to change, with God’s help, even if it pertained to others, and not me.

“I don’t… I just don’t know if I want you to stay there alone, Opal. You have no idea what kind of people might be there. And what if the thunderstorm they’re predicting comes? You know conditions at the shelter will be even more miserable after something like that, plus, the danger of flooding,” Mom argued.

I was silent. The hands of my watch moved. The line behind us extended. Alicia Estrada began to twist her hair once more.

Elizabeth’s face remained a maze of concern. “There’s a thunderstorm too?”

“It’s nothing major; the only concern is that it might add to the already severe destruction,” I reassured. The way she was nervously clutching her hair made me want to snap at her.  I was the one volunteering to do something daring and unfamiliar. She would simply ride on the plane.

“Practice what you preach Mom,” I continued. “ You’ve always said ‘Do to others what you would have them do to you.’ Remember?”

Mom sighed, and I sent up a silent prayer for help.

“You can get her on a later flight, correct?” Mom asked the attendant.

Elizabeth reached for my hand, and a pang of guilt hit me like a locomotive. She had as much right to be nervous as I did.

“Does Friday work?” Ms. Estrada typed furiously on her computer, then scrolled down.

“I would prefer sometime before the tsunami,” Mom said. “Today.”

“Well ma’am, it looks like all the flights today have been booked full. We’ll put her name first on the waitlist of people that want to be scheduled on a reinforcement flight coming to help us later today, but I can’t guarantee the plane will get here on time,” she said, squinting at her computer. “Otherwise, she’ll fly on Friday. Will that work for you, or will you be choosing to go with your original plan?”

“Are you sure you want to go through with this Opal?” Elizabeth asked me.

Yes. Of course I do. Won’t you take me at my word? I cried internally. But wait. Maybe not? God? Are you behind this? The voice of doubt wedged its way in.

“Yes. I have the ability to do this, and I know that I can do this. I’m scared, but I want to do this for them,” I gestured towards the crying girl. “And I want to do this for me, for us, really, so I can know that I gave at least one person hope in this crisis. I want to do this so we know that we helped. Don’t you guys see? We can’t control the tsunami, and we can’t control if our house will be okay. We can’t control if Cinnamon will come back or not.

“Opal, it’s not —” Elizabeth started.

“We can control this,” I cut her off. “We can control if they end their day with the flight they desperately need, or with the dread that they have to meet another challenge. I want to do this so I can end my day, feeling like I made the tsunami not seem so scary,” I said, my voice shaking, and it was true, the impression I should do it stronger than ever.

“Oh Opal,” Mom wrapped her arms around me. “You are growing up so fast, and thinking of others.”

Elizabeth squeezed my hand encouragingly. “I’ll miss you,” she whispered.

“She’ll take the 6:00 a.m. flight to Dallas leaving Friday morning,” Mom told Alicia Estrada. “Unless you can get her on an earlier one, of course.”

“Thank you,” she said, her face breaking into a smile. “You won’t believe how grateful the father will be. As for the flights, we would be happy to put her on one leaving at 6:00 in the morning, at no cost to you guys. The earliest one I can get you on Friday morning is the 5:30 a.m. flight.”

“6:00 a.m. should be fine,” I said quickly. I did not want to have to leave for a flight in the wee hours of the morning, but it looked like the situation could not be helped. “Thank you.”

More clacking, then Ms. Estrada stood up and walked around to our side of the counter. “My scale is broken,” she sighed, “so you’ll have to get your bags checked at that station to the right.” In passing, she squeezed my arm.  “God go with you, young lady. I’ll be praying.”

*

After eating a quick meal at a restaurant located inside of the airport, it was time to separate. The airport was offering free transportation to and from the shelter spot in Aloha Stadium, and I planned to use this service.

I hugged my mom and sister tightly, trying to hold on as long as possible.

“I’m scared,” I admitted.

“Opal,” Elizabeth stared straight into my eyes. “You can do this. I will always be just a text, call or email away. And you’re braver than you think. After all, didn’t you fly here by yourself?”

“Yeah, but that was different,” I retorted.

“And didn’t you try out for the professional, adult orchestra instead of the youth one, where most 15 year olds would have struggled to be accepted, but you still pressed on?”

“But I —”

“Listen Opal. You will be fine. I’ll miss you, but you’ll be fine. You’ll be excellent, in fact. And please look out for Cinnamon,” she said, giving me a hug.

“I love you,” Mom said. “Make sure to call me regularly. And be careful.”

And what more words than that were there to be said? After many goodbyes, they turned and disappeared into the crowd.

I took a deep breath and began to walk towards the shuttle station, silently praying that I would be okay alone in the shelter, that the wave wouldn’t destroy our home, that I would find Cinnamon. Butterflies swirled in my stomach as I walked.

God, I concluded my silent prayer, please tell me I’ve made the right decision, and done the right thing. If nothing else, I need peace. Please God! Give me peace. Fill my heart with you because underneath my good motives, I’m stressed. What was I thinking? Can I really do this?

I will never leave you, nor forsake you, He impressed on me the verse that had seen me through so much hardship.

Thanks God, I needed that. I silently responded.

Questions still unanswered filled my head as I stepped outside the sliding glass door.

But perhaps God lets our actions lead to answers, and doesn’t spoon feed us our faith. He lets hope coexist with hardship, and I knew I would need to hold onto His hope, His promises, in the days to come.

A note from the author: I hope everyone has enjoyed this chapter! I apologize for not submitting it sooner. If you’re new to Guide, or need a refresher on the events of Dark Waves of Discovery, please look back at previous parts. I know it’s been awhile. 😅

As always, thank you so much for reading!