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“Do you want something to drink?” Wayan asks, reaching into the drink cabinet.
“Eh, just get me some bourbon,” Jordi answers, waving him off.
Wayan pulls out a large bottle thereof and sets out to prepare the drink. A few minutes later, he comes back with two glasses of bourbon with water and sets them down.
“Here you go,” Wayan says, smiling.
“Gracias,” Jordi grins, gingerly picking up one glass and downing it in one shot.
“Feeling better?” Wayan asks, sitting down beside him.
“Not enough, but it’ll do,” Jordi shrugs. “Though… sorry for interrupting your prison guard job’s PTO all of a sudden.”
“Don’t mind it, I’ve had similar interruptions before,” Wayan raises a hand. “Though you didn’t tell me why you’d suddenly crash at my place tonight. Wasn’t today supposed to be the day of your return flight to Spain after your vacation here in America?”
“Ah, that’s… a hell of a long story,” Jordi sighs.
“No worries, there’s plenty of time for multiple long stories,” Wayan retorts.
“Ah, sure,” Jordi nods. “Well, here’s the thing…”
Jordi takes one more sip of his bourbon and clears his throat, before he begins recounting.
“You see, part of the reason why all of us are being called back to Spain is that there’s a big project coming up. Something about a new stadium in Madrid they wanted to build in preparation for a big sports game around winter of 2016. It’s the largest project my firm has ever undertaken, so they wanted all hands on deck, no matter what. Of course, I’d already anticipated such a scenario, hence why I booked a round-trip flight from here in New Jersey to there in Madrid. Makes it easier for me to reschedule for emergencies like today…”
He recounts the phone call, followed by the taxi ride to Newark Liberty International Airport. The many Spanish passengers among the crowd of people flying to Spain, including a few other members of his firm. Even the large amount of money he’d paid not just for the round-trip flight, but also the souvenirs he wished to bring back. The latter necessitated him to purchase an entirely new duffel bag just so he could bring them all home.
“Problem was,” Jordi continues, “there was a flight to Haneda that was supposed to depart two hours before ours. They didn’t make it ‘cause the engines burst, forcing them to land and the flight to be cancelled. Normally, I’d pay them no heed – it happens to the best of us – but there’s this one gilipollas in that flight…”
He recounts the moment it happened. An American college student no older than 23, who was thought to be just another passenger trying to get to Japan, only for him to suddenly snap and yell at airport personnel. The way he slammed his backpack down and stood with one leg on a bench before throwing a tantrum and subsequently trying to break into the runway. The way the guards corralled him by locking the door, letting security detain him and carry him off to a waiting police van outside, screaming and hollering all the way.
“And if you know anything about flight disruptions like this, it’s that they have so many side effects,” Jordi says, his tone lowering. “Entire terminals get shut down, flights delayed and cancelled worldwide, thousands of passengers stranded, millions of euros lost… and that’s if the guy didn’t do anything rash. This gilipollas attacked the guards, nearly broke into the tarmac, and threatened to hijack another flight to get to Japan.”
“And your terminal was affected, too?” Wayan asks.
“Sí,” Jordi nods. “Our flight was affected, too.”
He recounts the moment it happened. The dreaded announcement over the intercom, of a hijacker who is currently being pursued by authorities, resulting in delays for every flight in Newark Liberty. The many people complaining about the ensuing delays and lost time, and people like him who were worried that their livelihoods will be negatively impacted by the delayed flights. Amidst the chaos, Jordi phoned his firm to tell them what happened.
“Did they take it well?” Wayan interjects.
“No,” Jordi whispers, shaking his head. “They told me I’m no good and laid me off over the phone. Five years of being the best employee, and they fired me in five minutes because of something I couldn’t control. You bet I was upset, and I know millions of people were.”
He recounts the moment the confusion turned into upheaval. Thousands of passengers stormed the Newark police precinct, demanding justice for everyone who was impacted. People screamed about their lost jobs, wasted money, ruined livelihoods, and even some people calling for blood.
“And… did the police say why he did it?” Wayan asks warily.
Jordi groans, shaking his head.
“The little brat was lovesick,” he grumbles. “Something about his crush flying to a school in Japan that’s full of lesbians.”
“…that sounds familiar,” Wayan narrows his eyes. “His name’s Edgar Klein, right?”
“Eh, I don’t care much, but… yeah. Why?”
“I was his jailor the last time he shut down Newark Liberty,” Wayan explains. “That time, he tried to fly with a forged ticket and attacked checkpoint security because his girl mentioned a pen pal from Germany she had back in middle school, and he got jealous.”
Jordi blows a raspberry in response.
“…I’m gonna need a new job, man,” he grumbles. “I know my CV’s excellent, but this one idiot and his actions meant I wouldn’t be able to work in any construction firm for the time being. You know anybody who’s hiring?”
“There’s a repair shop down the road,” Wayan jerks a thumb out his house. “It’s not as glamorous, but they can always use a machine engineer.”
“Ah!” Jordi perks up. “Send me their number, I gotta make a call.”
Wayan nods, passing Jordi a calling card before sipping his own glass. As he saw Jordi calling the repair shop for a job interview, Wayan sighs and smiles.