2Promises

by Phil Armstrong

  “Okay Benjamin Franklin, but that’s another thing I’m not used to. How will I deal with the sunlight, the heat?” thought Beth.

  Subra had an answer yet again, “Don’t knock the weather Beth. If it didn’t change once in a while, nine out of ten people couldn’t start a conversation.”

  Beth reflected on Subra’s words. “I suppose you’re right. I just can’t predict my future and it’s making me a bit nervous.”

  “Prediction is very difficult, especially about the future. When you relinquish the desire to control your future, you can have happiness.”

  “I know, but I still worry about the future. Can I find Rose? Can I find the Portal? What am I going to do with my life? These are all things in the future and it’s pressure I‘ve not had before,” thought Beth. She felt the weight of responsibility building.

  “It’s rather simple. The best way to predict the future is to create it,” answered Subra.

  “Subra, I have tended to always trust my gut, my instincts, it felt right saying yes today, but what if I was wrong? What if India is the wrong direction for the portal?”

  “There can be as much value in the blink of an eye as in months of rational analysis. Creativity comes from trust. Trust your instincts. You will creatively solve this portal problem,” reassured Subra.

  “I will need to have this motivational chat with you often. I know I’ll need some luck to pull this off,” thought Beth.

  “You’ll make your own luck. You’re doing the right things. I’ll not have this conversation again with you. You must focus on what you want and align your positive feelings to it. If you don’t believe, then stay in bed and don’t go to India. I know that’s not you. You’re a fighter Beth, an optimist,” said Subra in his best motivational tone. “I want you to start to talk to yourself differently. I will teach you to send out energy patterns of what you want. Are you game?” Subra questioned Beth’s openness to learn.

  “Yes. I need all the help and positive energy I can get. I’ll keep an open mind, even though you’re in it already,” thought Beth.

  “Let’s start. This is a fundamental principle of Gieging. Beth, you seem to focus on what you don’t want. What I want you to do is focus on the outcome that you do want. When you say, “What if I can’t find the portal,” you’re sending out energy. The energy says, “I can’t find the portal.” Focus on the outcome that you want, “I will find the portal.” This sends out a different type of energy. The energy now says, “You will find the portal.” This will open the positive energy flows within your body. Energy flows where attention goes. Do you understand?” asked Subra.

  “Yes, I get it; I need to reprogram my language to get different results.”

  “You’re a fast learner; it takes some people a lifetime to understand this important lesson. It’s more than just having a smiley face and a positive attitude. You’re trying to force the answer to the portal location. I’m as motivated as anyone to solve that problem, but you can’t force it Beth. I have confidence that you’ll solve the problem. If you can solve your problem, then what is the need of worrying? If you cannot solve it, then what is the use of worrying? Don’t worry; focus on your desired outcome. You’ll solve it and you will find Rose,” reinforced Subra.

  “You’re right. We won’t have this conversation again. I’m confident in my abilities to find both Rose and the portal. The days of self sabotage are over.”

  “Our upcoming journey is an exciting one of discovery. There’s never a traffic jam on the extra mile.”

  Subra and Beth continued to discuss topics throughout the night. Beth told of her experiences growing up. She talked about the rejection and self doubt that lived with her constantly. Subra worked with Beth to reprogram her thoughts, language, and energy flows. The noise of the traffic outside started to increase indicating the arrival of morning. The sun began to rise and illuminated Beth’s bedroom window. Birds started to sing announcing the dawn chorus. It was going to be a great day. Beth started to wake as she rubbed her eyes and tried to remove her hair from her face. She looked toward the light and squinted quickly at the sun’s rays. Beth thought about her night and the advice that Subra had given her. She had a busy day ahead. She knew the morning would appear to drag, until she was traveling. She spent the morning trying to keep busy. She caught an early bus to a nearby town. Keighley town center was a busy, bustling place in the morning. Beth spent the time shopping for some last minute items. She had bought tee shirts, sunscreen and sturdy runners. The morning seemed to linger until the taxi arrived outside her door as planned. Beth grabbed her backpack. She quickly checked for her passport and headed for the door. She could see the brightly colored yellow paint of the taxi through her cottage window.

  Glancing at the rent envelope on the dining table, she took a quick look around, as if to say goodbye for a while. Beth opened her front door and stepped out onto the street. The door locked behind her, and she tested the handle to make sure it was locked. She made her way to the taxi and slipped into the back seat.

  “Manchester airport isn’t it?” said the driver turning to face Beth. “You! Didn’t I pick you up at the hospital a couple of days ago?”

  “Right,” said Beth recognizing the red turban.

  “Where are you going and which airline?” inquired the driver in broken English.

  “Kolkata, India and I’m flying Emirates,” said Beth with butterflies in her stomach.

  “You’re going to India so soon after coming out of hospital, is that wise?”

  The taxi was speeding away over the Yorkshire moors. Beth thought how she would miss the lush green valleys, clean air, newborn lambs, and dry stonewalls. This was home and she was heading for a very different land. “I’m fine thank you,” said Beth.

  “I see you’re traveling light, how long are you going for?” asked the driver.

  “Not sure yet,” answered Beth.

  The driver was clearly in a talkative mood. “I’m from Delhi myself, further North, West of where you’re going. It’ll be hot. Are you traveling alone?”

  “No. There’s a group of us,” said Beth hoping to avoid a lecture on the dangers of India.

  The taxi had taken the back route over the moors. It had been a while since Beth had been out this way. She looked at the small villages and beautiful old Inns she passed on route.

  “It’s not my business, but I think you could find yourself in difficult situations going to India for the first time,” offered the driver. Beth was stunned and could not think of anything witty to say. She felt her cheeks flush. The driver held her gaze in the rear view mirror.

  It came out without thinking, “At the age of eleven, or thereabouts, women acquire a poise and an ability to handle difficult situations which a man, if he is lucky, manages to achieve somewhere in his later seventies.”

  “Thank you, Subra,” thought Beth.

  The driver sat and mulled over Beth’s response. To his credit he attempted to match wits with Beth. “I happen to feel that visiting India will raise conflicting attitudes for you, as your type have led a very privileged life over here.”

  Again Beth was left with no response. “I happen to feel that the degree of a person’s intelligence is directly reflected by the number of conflicting attitudes she can bring to bear on the same topic.”

  Subra was in fine form. That seemed to work. The driver went quiet and paid attention to his route. Beth was left to admire the countryside. It was beautiful, wild, and stunning. The Yorkshire moors quickly gave way to the Lancashire countryside. Beth was snapped out of her day dreaming by the driver who decided to start again. Beth braced herself for more negativity but the tone was different this time. She thought the driver tried to break the silence because he felt uncomfortable.

  “You have a strong spirit, do you believe in energy and the mind?” asked the driver.

  “That’s a broad subject, but generally, yes I do.”

  “I’m sure you’re aware of the Indian trad
itions, Yoga and such,” pitched the driver.

  “I know Yoga means “Union,” and that it’s a heck of a lot more than standing on your head and doing poses!” said Beth.

  The driver laughed. “Good,” he said. “When I was a little boy growing up in India my father and I were very close. Unfortunately he’s passed now. He taught me a game that we often played together. I tell you this because India is the land of traveling. This is maybe something you’d enjoy when you do your traveling. We used to lie on our backs on a hillside. You don’t have to be lying down to play, “Cloud Busting.” Have you heard of it?”

  “No,” said Beth intrigued.

  “It’s a game where you pick a big, white, fluffy cloud. The wind in India is still and hot, not like here where the clouds race across the sky. The clouds hover and stay still in India. The game is to pick a cloud in the sky, a solid one. You imagine your energy concentrating and flowing out of your forehead, or your third eye. Do you know where that is?”

  “Yes,” said Beth rolling her eyes.

  “You direct it at the center of a cloud and you just keep focus. We did this all the time, my father and I.”

  “What happens?” inquired Beth.

  “Magic and wonderment,’ answered the driver. “You can punch a hole right through the cloud. It starts to drift apart in the middle forming a hole. Cloud Busting, do it when you get bored,” offered the driver smiling.

  “Does it work?”

  “Only if you believe it works,” answered the driver.

  Beth had heard this point before. “I will try it.”

  “Trying is a graceful way of failing, do it,” said the driver.

  “Thanks, I will.”

  The driver smiled and they continued with their journey. The Lancashire landscape slowly started to change from a rural setting to the city of Manchester. Traffic increased, and the driver became tense as he concentrated on his immediate surroundings. “Emirates is located at terminal two. I will let you out at terminal two. This fare is prepaid and the tip is already included.”

  “Thanks,” said Beth looking into the car’s rear mirror. “How much longer?”

  “About fifteen minutes, not long. I’ll take you to the curb at terminal two. It’s a busy place. I would appreciate it if you can hop out quickly when we get there,” the driver asked.

  “Sure,” said Beth.

  The taxi pulled up to the curb. Beth was on her way when the driver looked back and shouted. “Thanks. Have a good trip and keep your wits about you.” Beth grabbed her backpack and smiled at the driver as he took off.

  Beth entered Manchester Airport terminal two. She was met by crowds of people, all heading in different directions, all moving with a purpose. She saw families and couples saying goodbye and hugging. It suddenly hit Beth that she had not flown before. She quickly convinced herself that this was exciting, the extra mile; no traffic jams on the extra mile. Beth saw the red illuminated Emirates sign and joined the long orderly queue of people. A rather small-framed woman stepped out of nowhere and smiled at Beth. Beth’s first thought was “Wow, she’s pretty.” Beth quickly realized the refined looking woman in the beige pantsuit was an Emirates employee. She was assisting passengers. Beth’s mouth hung open and she didn’t know what to say.

  “Hello, can I see your passport please Miss?” asked the attendant.

  “Sure,” said Beth searching for her passport and duly handing it over. The attendant scanned it into a mobile device and smiled.

  “Miss Martindale? You’re flying business class to Kolkata?” inquired the attendant.

  “Yes,” blurted Beth.

  “Please follow me, you have your own queue for business class. It’s much shorter,” informed the attendant.

  Beth followed the efficient attendant. She couldn’t help noticing how neat her hair was; pinned up in a bun design. Beth had thrown her hair into a ponytail as usual. The attendant stopped and waved Beth into the shorter line. She used a swift extension of her arm accompanied by a smile. It was a motion Beth had seen countless times on TV game shows, but it looked smooth and effective today. Beth smiled at the attendant as she moved into the queue. The attendant returned Beth’s passport and wheeled away in an efficient manner. Beth was soon at the check in counter. A well-groomed attendant advanced her through the check in process. Beth now had her boarding pass and continued through the security screening process. After her bag was scanned she had to remove her belt, shoes, watch, and coat. She needed to get dressed again before she could move into the lounge area. She looked at the large illuminated board and could see her flight details. The next thirty minutes was a blur for Beth. She suddenly found herself walking to the end of a boarding ramp and stepping onto the front of an airplane. Her stomach churned constantly. More professionally groomed young women greeted her.

  “6D,” said one attendant smiling cheerfully, “This way please.” Beth was shown to her seat.

  It was not a seat, more of an enclosed pod. She had never seen anything like it before. Beth enjoyed her first flight experience; the flat bed, the movie screen, the drinks and food that she had to politely decline. She enjoyed the constant attention of the cabin crew. This was the way to travel. The flight to Dubai departed at around 2pm. Beth managed to sleep during the seven-hour flight. It was just enough time to have some friendly banter with Subra. Beth enjoyed herself, but she suspected she would not enjoy the next part of her journey. She was about to experience her first international connection. When Beth landed in Dubai it was just after midnight, local time. She now had to find her connecting gate. The walk to the next gate was painless, but she was facing a ninety-minute wait before her connecting flight to India.

  The airport was quiet and calm. There were a few people milling around but the pace and excitement had dropped. Everyone seemed tired, lifeless, and bored. Beth sat quietly in her chair waiting to be called. She watched other people. Beth sat opposite a man reading a mathematics book on prime numbers. He had a computer bag with him and short-cropped hair. Beth saw him jump to attention hearing his Blackberry phone ring. He quickly reached down and flipped the cover of his holster open. Grabbing his Blackberry, and moving it to his ear, he stood abruptly and started to walk away.

  “This is John,” Beth could hear him say in an American accent as walked off deep in conversation.

  Beth did not see herself as an attractive girl. She often used her directness as a shield. She was an insecure person and did not have a strong positive self-image. Beth always wore jeans, tee shirts, and baggy sweaters. Today was no exception. She was a “no fuss” type who wore her hair in a ponytail; held in place with elastic. No one could doubt that Beth was intelligent, but she was constantly told that she needed to focus. She needed to channel those smarts. Beth never wore makeup and was never really interested in boys. She knew she was not gay; she definitely liked the male torso, and had stared longingly at a fashion poster. It was hanging on a billboard, in front of a store she had worked at. Beth once had a teacher she was fond. He taught her for a whole term in one of her many schools. He was from Calgary, Canada. He was average height, slim, articulate, kind, mature, and had a Canadian accent that was easy on the ears. She secretly liked him, liked him a lot. So did most of the girls at the school.

  “He’s so fit,” they would say in that Yorkshire slang.

  Beth’s image of herself was always inconsistent. She had often joked that she could lose a few pounds off her backside. She meant it as self-deprecating humor. Beth walked a lot. She did not have a car and was clearly fit and toned. Beth ate sensible foods and could not afford to eat excessively. She had long, auburn, healthy, hair that glistened in the sun. Beth had a natural beauty about her. She was about five feet five inches tall, 25 years old, and her face glowed. She inherited high cheekbones and large green twinkling eyes. Beth had a strong smile that could melt a man.

  Most men would look at Beth and see a beautiful young, fit, natural, woman. Most women would see Beth as a fresh, you
thful, woman; someone they would want to be. What Beth lacked was confidence. She always felt she was not good enough. Waiting for her connecting flight Beth couldn’t sleep and it was getting late. She thought about the day and her mind wandered to Anwar and Aklina. Beth saw a neon Coffee sign. She picked up her backpack and quickly headed off down the hall for a walk and a distraction. Beth spotted a washroom sign and paid a quick visit. She approached the hand basins and began to wash her hands. She splashed cold water on her face and dried herself with a paper towel. As Beth disposed of the towel she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She lingered to study her reflection. She looked good, considering it was midnight. She had been trapped on a plane for the last seven hours, and she thought she looked good. Perhaps it was the pure energy but she looked fresh. It was the first time, in a long while, that she felt.