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A PA system blaring out a list of open flights woke Angela from her slumber, the rumble of luggage wheels and the hurried footsteps that followed echoing the waiting area. Having dozed off in her seat while watching over the luggage, Angela yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She shook her head, trying to shake the strands of unkempt blonde hair away from her face. Fluorescent lighting shined upon her pallid face as she stared at the ceiling exhausted. She shuffled her body upright to turn to the dark panel of windows at her side. Tiny lights twinkled through the glass, and the sound of airliners eased off into the distance.
The grumbling in her stomach did not ease though. While waiting impatiently, she caught a glimpse of a lanky red-haired woman carrying a white cup and a paper bag in her hands. Angela’s nose caught a whiff of the bag, surmising the contents to be warm, delicious bagels. The woman finally approached her. She handed her the bag, and grabbed a suitcase near Angela's feet. Angela craned her neck up to look at the person standing awkwardly before her.
“What took you so long Moira? I've been waiting forever," she asked, irritated. Red and blue eyes wearily stared back at Angela. Moira was also exhausted from their long flight, the gauntness of her face accentuated by the artificial lighting.
"There's been a small trouble with our order. The machine at the coffee shop broke down, so they only gave me one milkshake. Did you call for a taxi yet?"
Angela peered into the bag and grabbed a bagel. “I did, but it just left 10 minutes ago.” She waved the bagel at Moira. “And who knows when the next one will come. We would have been able to leave sooner, if you haven't told off that man sitting in front of you!"
Moira scoffed, placing a slender hand on her hip. “He was the one who decided to make a show of himself! I politely told him to please put his seat back up when he smashed my knees in with the recliner. Do you know how little legroom I get while flying? I'm no contortionist."
"Kicking his seat like a tantruming child is not a polite statement. Neither is rolling your suitcase over his toes after you pushed him in the aisle." Angela took the milkshake from Moira, and shook her head. “I'm so embarrassed. The next time we fly, I’m putting you in the dog carrier.”
“A dog carrier would've been more preferable than that rabbit hole." Moira looked at the runway outside the panel of windows. "I don't believe humans were meant to fly, nor do they deserve to.”
Angela rolled her eyes, and took a sip from the cup. Her face contorted as heavy cream and mint flooded her mouth.
"What flavor is this? I thought I asked for chocolate banana."
“It’s cookies and cream." Moira answered. "It was the only flavor left. Now don't be wasteful and throw it out while I'm not looking. I know you can be a finicky eater sometimes." She waved a finger at Angela.
Angela pursed her lips, and glared back. “Fine. I'll drink it. But only if you share it with me." She handed the milkshake back to Moira, who grabbed it and sipped through the straw.
"Grand. Get another taxi ready while we make our way towards the exit."
They gathered all their luggage and exited from the waiting area, heading towards the escalators. Swarms of people came and went together at the level below. They parted in the middle, where a peculiar-looking yellow sculpture stood in place. The crowds hurried to their respective terminals and exits. This frenzied aura began to infect Moira and Angela as well. They hopped off the escalator and rushed out of the airport, the scent of cool damp air entering their lungs. There, they walked briskly until they arrived at the passenger loading zone.
Under the steel hood of their pickup place, Moira sighed in relief as she placed her suitcase and luggage on the pavement. Angela was periodically pulling out her phone every three minutes. They bundled their jacket collars close to their face, looking back and forth at the oncoming traffic. Angela anticipated their ride to come at any moment. After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, she glanced at her phone again and frowned.
"You've got to be joking."
She looked at the row of hovercars driving through the multilanes. Behind them a dinky, two-door taxi merged into the pickup area. It puttered pathetically into their vicinity, its whiny beeps warning nearby pedestrians of its pitiful presence. Its bizarre cuboid exterior made it toy-like in appearance, and the hoverwheels jutted out of its arches unevenly. The engine below it made it tremble like a small animal. The two women stood there dumbfounded. Its roof barely reached the height of their chest when the taxi pulled to the curb.
"This... is our taxi?" Moira said in disbelief. "We can't possibly fit all of our bags in there." She pinched the bridge of her nose, annoyed. "Never mind that, I don't think I can fit in there."
"It's more of a mini-cart than a mini-car." Angela murmured. "I'm in disbelief these models are still around. I thought they were discontinued due to the high accident rates."
“Whatever this is, it's unacceptable." Moira pulled her phone out. "I’m requesting another ride—"
Angela hastily grabbed Moira’s wrist. Her disheveled bangs hid furrowed brows beneath.
"Don't think I haven’t tried that. This was the only car available to us." She walked towards the micro car, pointing at its window. "Look. There’s space in the backseat. No need to get another ride."
Moira stared at the car, then back at Angela. After much contemplation, she gave out a heavy sigh, as if agreeing with her, and gathered all their luggage.
“Getting into a plane accident would be more preferable than being in this vehicle,” she muttered while trudging to the back of the car.
After much fumbling and configuration of luggage, Moira closed the trunk and entered the taxi. Inside, Angela occupied the left seat. She was entering their destination in the dashboard touch screen, thoughtfully chewing her bagel. She took a sip from the milkshake Moira left in the cup holder. When she noticed Moira’s presence, she tried to stifle her laugh. She was amused by the gangly woman hunched over in the seat next to her, knees popping out.
"You look just like Winston!" she said gleefully. She started to giggle.
"Please don't equate me to that giant ape." Moira replied in vexation. She scowled at her legs splaying on the padded car seat. "You know, I was talking to him after my presentation. He was very... pungent. I never knew gorillas could exude so much sweat."
"Be nice to him. He was probably nervous,” Angela said. “He was very impressed by your research. Everyone at the conference was."
"Of course," Moira said, haughtily looking at her nails. "It was only to be expected." She was admiring the perfectly manicured purple nail polish on her fingers.
The corner of Angela's lips drew downward, the laugh lines fading from her face. She wondered how was it possible Moira could radiate so much arrogance in such an undignified pose. The tablet flashed an inquiry about their desired destination. She turned her attention back to the dashboard and tapped the button. It signaled the car to start its route. Their legs jiggled to the vibrations of the electric motor below them, and the taxi began exiting the passenger loading zone, merging into the highway.
The car interior was pelted by the noise of harsh rainfall on metal. Moira and Angela took turns sipping their milkshake, passing it back and forth. They watched the broad night sky from their windows, the taxi’s blue headlights shining through the mist. Roadsigns in both Gaelic and English drifted by their peripherals. They were posted along the wet asphalt, the yellow lights from the roadway lamps burning over them.
Moira stared through the windshield, the straw from the white cup lazily resting in her mouth. Impressions of foliage and buildings appeared in the distance, their vague shapes made fleeting by the pursuing darkness. Moira looked in abstract interest. After all, it was the sight of home soon to come.
She passed the milkshake to Angela, and leaned towards the dashboard. She swiped left on the screen through an array of icons, and tapped open a music app. A list of songs appeared on the display, ready to be queued. She looked at Angela expectantly.
"Mind if I play something? It's awfully dreary here."
Angela took a sip from the milkshake. "Mmmh. I wish I'd gotten my earplugs from my bag." She passed it back to Moira.
Moira sipped the milkshake. "Come now, Angela. My tastes in music aren't that bad."
"Calling it bad would be an understatement. I heard the things you played at the hotel." Angela looked at her, appalled. "Who listens to a Bulgarian men's choir while showering?"
"I happen to like them very much," Moira said matter-of-factly. “It requires a certain sophisticated ear to appreciate it.” She sipped the milkshake some more, and gave it back to Angela.
"I could tell,” Angela said. “I was surprised that you knew the songs by heart when you started hollering in the bathroom."
"Well if my music bothers you that much—" Moira twisted her body and leaned towards the pile of luggage in the backseat. Her arm was reaching for Angela's bag. "You can take a nap while I listen to some bubblegum rock."
"Wait, don't take—"
Moira grasped at the straps, tugging the bag roughly. Its bulging sides popped opened, suddenly spilling a bunch of pens and candies all at once, all over the car. Moira was amazed at the disaster of accouterments jettisoned before her. Angela hid her face in shame when she saw Moira's eyes widen, perplexed by the piles of colorful lollies and ballpoint pens landing on her lap.
"Angela, dear…” She tutted at her. “To think I expected better from you." She took a pen from her lap, observing its promotional logo. "Did you steal these from the conference?"
"They were just left there at the table. I thought I might as well grab them if nobody wanted it." Angela bit the bottom of her lip, then said in a subdued voice. "And our lab was running low on pens."
"I wonder how many secrets you've been keeping from me.” Moira ruffled Angela’s bag open, and started gathering the mess around the car. “Truly, I am shocked," she said in mock indignation.
While putting the stolen freebies back in the bag, she caught a glimpse of mini plastic bottles stuffed in its side pockets. She curiously sifted through them. They were wine bottles no bigger than her palm, with Air Ascent labels stamped onto them. Five of the bottles were already empty.
"Did you also steal these?" Moira asked, waving one of the bottles. Angela avoided her gaze.
"They weren't stolen,” she said indignantly. “The flight attendant gave them to me."
"How did I not notice? Why would she give you this many?"
"I told her half of them were for you while you were asleep."
"And you were going to drink them all,” Moira said sternly. “Without my knowledge."
Angela did not answer. Instead she sipped hard from the milkshake cup, trying to get every last ounce of liquid left.
Moira rubbed her temple, and leaned against the door of the car. This newfound discovery of Angela's rampant kleptomania ran through her mind as she rested her head on her hand. The pipettes missing from her office the past two months, her serum and media getting swiped from the shelves... it all suddenly made sense to her.
An abrupt stop from the taxi put a halt to Moira's thoughts, the momentum dragging her body towards the dashboard. She winced when her knees bumped painfully against it. Pens and candies scattered and flew all over the car floor. Moira and Angela wondered what caused this sudden stop and looked out the window. They saw vehicles before and after them congesting the roads. Ahead, the city of Dublin was in sight. Its faint orange lights glimmered warmly before them through the rainy haze.
Moira noticed Angela squirming anxiously in her seat. "What's bothering you now?" she said.
Angela sighed, and lowered her head in embarrassment. "I really need to use the restroom.”
"Can you wait?” Moira stretched her neck up to observe the road. “We'll be stuck here for a while until traffic clears up."
"Well how long are we stuck here?" Angela opened a map on the tablet screen. In its interface, a spaghetti pattern of roads overwhelmed the screen in red. She stared at it horrified. They were stuck in gridlock, with no way out.
"Looks like we'll get home 30 minutes late," Moira said.
"Is there a store nearby?" Angela said desperately. "I don't think I can hold it for much longer."
"If you hadn't drank all that wine, you wouldn't be fidgeting this much!" Moira teased.
"A few pitiful wine bottles can’t possibly make my bladder burst!" Angela cried. "And I only had a little milkshake. Please, just take us to a nearby store. I can barely hold it in!"
Moira obliged, inputting an address for a shopping center on the outskirts of town. Angela fidgeted with the now empty milkshake cup in her hand. Traffic continued to creep at a snail's pace. The sound of raindrops intensified her bladder’s urge to evacuate. She rubbed the straw against the lid to try to drown out the rain with its hollowed squeaking sound, but it did no good. She glimpsed down the road sadly. Her eyes enviously watched the streams of water gushing across freely. Angela felt trapped, and squeaked her straw in distress. The noise was becoming intolerable to Moira.
"Would you stop that? We'll get to the shops in a few minutes."
Angela moved her hand away from the straw. "Sorry,” she muttered. “It’s hard keeping my mind preoccupied with other things."
Moira rubbed her chin. Her eyes lit up when an idea popped in her mind. "Would a song help distract you?" she finally said.
Angela stared daggers at her. "Absolutely not."
Moira disregarded her hostile tone, and grinned mischievously. She began clearing her throat.
"When I was just a wee wee tot, they put me on my wee wee pot, to see if I would wee or not.”
“No.”
“Wee wee, wee wee.”
Angela gritted her teeth. "Stop it."
"When they saw that I would not wee wee in my pot, they put me in my wee wee cot."
"Stop!"
Moira waved her knees around, barely hiding her amusement. "And there I wee wee'd quite a lot!"
Angela picked up a pen and threw it at Moira. "Be silent! I said stop!"
Moira blocked it and continued singing. “Wee wee, wee wee! How does this make you feel, Angela?" she snickered. Her voice was shrill from holding in her laughter.
“Shut up! Shut up, you big ugly ape!”
Angela seethed in her seat, her cheeks flushed red with anger. She wanted to get away from this horrible woman as soon as possible. She looked out the window urgently. Traffic was now moving at an adequate pace, and roads were starting to clear up. Angela squeezed her thighs together, wishing for the moment she could leave this car and finally relieve herself. She wished for traffic to disappear, and for the taxi to drive faster. She wished for the rainfall to stop taunting her bladder. But most of all, she wished for Moira’s demise, who was clapping her hands at Angela’s face.
“Wee wee,” she incessantly chanted. “Wee wee, wee wee!”
Angela fantasized about throwing Moira out of the car door and into the speeding traffic. Instead she decided to unwrap one of the lollies from the floor, and shoved it in Moira’s mouth.
“Mmmph hnng?”
Moira sucked on her lolly quietly, placated by its sugary sweetness. Angela turned her attention towards the blinking light on the screen. The waypoint on the map signified they were only a few minutes away from their destination, but the taxi drove in short spurts and long waits. Angela became further frustrated when it stopped altogether at a traffic light. She cursed herself mentally, her eyes roaming around the car interior. She must go now, yet she could move no further.
Angela desperately wrestled with the cup in her hands. The taxi started moving again. Her anguished face was contoured by the beams of light emitting from the street lamps.
Her expression changed into painful eagerness once she saw the shop displays through the windows. By the time the taxi arrived at its location, Angela was ready to bolt out across the street to use the restroom. But before she was able to head out, Moira touched her shoulder. She popped the lolly out of her mouth, her discrepant eyes looking at Angela with concern.
"I need to tell you something." Her voice was serious in tone.
"Tell me later! I really, really need to go."
"I want to apologize."
"For that stupid song?” Angela was getting impatient. “I'm used to your antics by now."
Moira shook her head. "No, not that. For the milkshake."
"I don't understand."
Moira took Angela's hand, caressing it with her thumb. “I need to confess something,” she said. They stared at each other silently. The heavy downpour of rain pleasantly rang through their ears.
"I've been faking sips the whole time during the car ride. You drank the entire milkshake. That’s why you have to wee wee."
Moira flinched as an empty cup flew towards her face. Angela sprinted out of the car, the wet pavement echoing off her furious footsteps.