the plane lands?â I asked.
âIâd be rather surprised if he was there,â Captain Evans said.
That was probably the case. I was just hoping.
âEither way, we need to leave,â Captain Evans said. âPlease take a seat.â
I wasnât going to argue with that. As Captain Evans and the co-pilot pulled up the gangway I walked down the aisle, figuring Iâd sit for a while and then go and lie down for an hour or so in the stateroom.
I looked at my watch. It was just before noonâamazing how much had happened in less than four hours. Iâd gone from passed out to woken up to meeting McWilliams, being expelled, packing, and driving to the airport, and now I was sitting on a jet to fly home. Busy few hours.
It was about a six-hour flight and a five-hour time difference, so if all went well, weâd be there around two in the afternoon. Assuming we were going to leave soon.
The engines started up. It wouldnât be long. Good.
Maybe it was because I hadnât eaten in God knows how long, but I was starting to feel kind of shaky and sweaty. My head was less achy now but still pretty fuzzy. The best thing for that, Iâd figured out long ago, was another drink, just to take the edge off. And then I had a thought. I got up and walked over to the bar:the only question was whether it was locked or not. I took a deep breath and pulled the handle. The door opened. It was filled with a treasure trove of alcoholâthere was enough quality, quantity and variety to satisfy any and all tastes. I pushed aside a few bottles until I came to what I was looking for.
I pulled out a bottle of vodkaâa full bottle of vodka. I broke the seal and took a little swig. I grimaced at the taste and the way it burned a passage down my gullet. I hated those snobs who talked about how they liked the taste of one brand of vodka more than another. That was like saying they liked the taste of one type of iodine better than another. You didnât drink vodka for the taste, you drank it for the effect.
I took another swig, and some of it spilled on the carpet. Oh well, not my problem. Besides, it wasnât like there wasnât more vodka where that came from. The bar was full and the door was open.
I laughed quietly to myself. Here I was being expelled from school for drinking, and nobody had had the foresight to lock the liquor cabinet on the plane sent to get me. Well, their lapse was my gain. I tipped the bottle and took a big, long drink, chugging it back like it was water.
CHAPTER FOUR
â GET UP .â
âWhat?â I mumbled. My eyes popped open. Captain Evans was standing over me.
âGet up, weâre here.â
âWeâre in New York?â
âWeâve arrived at our destination,â he replied.
âOh ⦠good ⦠I must have fallen asleep.â
âFallen asleep inside a vodka bottle,â he said, holding up the half-empty container.
âI donât think I like your attitude,â I mumbled.
âWell I know I donât like yours.â
âWhat did you say?â
âYou heard what I said.â
âDo you like your job?â I snapped. âI could fire you.â
He snorted. âYour father could fire me. But would is a whole different word and a different world. Sort of like you could have become such an outstanding young man instead of such a major disappointment.â
âIâm so sorry I disappointed you,â I said, sarcasm dripping from my words.
âItâs not me Iâm talking about, itâs your father. What a disappointment youâve been to him.â
I was stunned into silence.
âI remember the first time he brought you aboard the plane. You werenât more than a few months old. He couldnât stop talking about you, held you in his arms the whole flight. He just went on and on about the hopes and dreams he had for you.â Captain Evans paused. âAnd none of them