August 9th, 1990

August 9th, 1990

Flight from SEA – YVR – SEA

Seattle, Washington

 

Woke up with David on the phone.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself, this is a nice surprise.”

“I wanted to call like an hour ago but I figured with the time change, you’d be wiped.”

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Just after seven.”

“That’s fine, you can ring me anytime.”

“Cool, I’ll remember that.”

“How’s life on the roof this morning?”

“How did you know I’m up here?”

“I can hear the waves.”

“How do they sound?”

“They’re calling my name.”

He laughed. “You can’t ignore them.”

“Trust me, if I didn’t have to work the shuttle today I’d hire a car and land on your doorstep.”

“That’d be awesome. Where’s the shuttle going?”

“Vancouver, there and back.”

“What’s that flight time?”

“Just over an hour or so.  Not a bad work day.”

“Have you been watching the news coming out of Kuwait?”

“Yes, it’s all everybody is talking about. What do you think will happen?”

“I think we’re about to go to war.”

“You do?”

“It’s not looking good. Thousands of foreign nationals are trapped and…”

“I know, it’s awful. That must be terrifying.”

“British Airways fly to Kuwait, right?”

“Yeah but I haven’t been yet.”

“You’re not going!”

“I might not have a choice.”

“There’s no way I want you going there. No way.”

“So, if I get rostered a Kuwait what do you suggest I do?”

“Say you’re sick. Or that you don’t feel comfortable going to that part of the world.”

“I can’t say that. I’d lose my job.”

“I’m serious Karen. I don’t want anything bad happening to you. Promise me you won’t go.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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