52stories

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The carrousel came to life. Half-opened and red eyes watched the luggage tumble down the main track and deposit themselves on the Samsonite merry-go-round. The passengers from flight 1402 from Paris shuffled and strained to see if theirs was the next piece of luggage to come down the shoot. Eric Jenkins felt like one of the living dead. He hated travel and he hated international travel worse. Not only did he fear flying but he also disliked the feeling he had when being a guest in a forgein country. He hated not being able to speak the language, ask for a beer, or read signs for the nearest restaurant. But worst of all he hated to be looked at as a tourist, how the locals treated him with contemptuousness. Oddly he loved his job. A job that routinely took him out of his home state once a month and out of his native country two or three times a year. But as the top salesman and representative for a hardwood distributor, he was obliged to take on these tasks.

Right now Eric was trying to be patient. If he got his bag right now, he could be at his car in 15 minutes, 3:25AM. And be on the 695 beltway around Baltimore in 30 minutes, 3:40 AM. The finally at home in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania in 1 hour and 20 minutes, 4:45 AM. However, the baggage handlers seemed to have some vendetta against those who made them work these wee hours of the night. Eight minutes now and no sign of his bag.

The trip to Paris had been successful. Eric had met with two wealthy African landowners that were eager to strip their land of the mahogany it was providing. One had lofty expectations of many American dollars. Eric and this man had required the assistance of an interpetor to precipitate the contract. The man was young and too eager to make the deal asking too much and offering too little. An example of someone who had inherited land and money and a large feeling of entitlement. The deal did not go through. The second man was older and more respectful. He spoke English well, a sign of an international businessman. The deal was fair for both parties and was consummated over dinner and a few rounds of cognac.

Standing in front of Eric now was a family of five blocking his view of the luggage. Once he thought he saw his bag but a large man had determinedly claimed the bag and strode out of the Baltimore Washington international airport. Eric was envious. Now he wouldn’t be getting home until 5 AM. The smallest member of the family in front of Eric began to cry. It seems the second to smallest had taken a toy that was particularly valuable to the smallest.
“Great.” He said beneath his breath.

Finally after twenty minutes of waiting. Eric’s bag came down the chute. Black with a red stripe down the center, the mid-sized bag seemed heavier than he remembered, but that could be his muscles that had been worn out by the trip. The ride home went fast, although he didn’t quite remember the entire trip. Happy and lucky to be home, Eric walked through the front door at 5:20 AM. He stripped to his boxers and threw the bag and clothes in the corner of the bedroom. He crawled into bed and kissed his wife goodnight.

The buzzer did not wake him from sleep immediately but infused itself in a dream, slowly waking him. 7:55AM. Eric’s wife nudged him and he groaned.

“Do you have to go to work right away?” Christy asked.

“Yeah.”

“Do they know you just got home?”

“They scheduled the flight.” He replied impishly.

“I’ll be home by five.” He told her.

“I’ll be home late, mom wanted me to stop by and help with dad.” She said “Maybe we can go grab something to eat.”

“Sounds good, as long as you think that the grass can go another day without mowing.”

“Sure.” She said

Christy smiled, leaned over and gave him a kiss.

“Good to have you home.”

On his way out Eric grabbed his bag. Instead of unpacking his clothes he would get his laptop out at the office. He was late enough as it was. He reported into Mr. Serbo. His Boss was pleased to hear that the transaction went well and told him that he should get right to imputing the contract and information from the buy into the company mainframe. Serbo pushed him hard, but he could take it. In fact, he found that when he was pressured he did better work. His boss knew this and they respected each other in their working relationship. In his office he began to unpack his suitcase. Eric froze. The clothes on top were not his.

Frantically he began to throw the clothes on the floor, looking for the laptop he had buried in the clothes to protect it. Nothing. He turned the suitcase upside down and emptied it on his desk.
All clothes no laptop. Sweat beaded on his brow. The contract he flew to another country for; the contract he lost two nights sleep for; the contract he was going to get a bonus for; the contract that if he did not have he would be fired, was in that laptop. Fear and anger flowed through him, giving him the feeling that his stomach had in fact, just turned over. Eric’s first thought was that someone had taken it, gone through his luggage and swiped the $2500 computer.

No.

Did the thief decide that he suddenly did not like his wardrobe and ready for a change swapped all his clothes with a total stranger underwear and all.

“Come on Eric, think!!”

He had switched bags with someone. What now?

“Did I have my address on it?”

“Did I get my credit cards out?”

“Will I recover my contract?”

He began to search the bag for information. Name tags, identifications, wallet, sears card; name stitched in underwear, anything that might tell him whose bag he had. Nothing. Not even a toothbrush. He now got an odd feeling that his stuff was getting the same treatment. Suddenly he felt a little violated. Eric slowed down and took his time treating the items with a little more respect. He began to look and fell through the pockets of the suitcase. He felt something lumpy.
Was it in the pocket?

No, it was in the liner. Examining the bottom he saw a tab that was almost hidden completely. He lifted gently, then harder. The tab released and caused a sound like a soda can opening. It was a false bottom. When Eric looked down he saw was had to be fifty packets of something that colored a light brown wrapped in clear plastic. Eric’s lungs began to burn. He realized he was holding his breath. He exhaled but stayed still, gazing at the fist sized packets. Now the only emotion he felt was fear. The room temperature seemed to have dropped 30 degrees. Cold chills ran up and down his spine. Eric jumped out of his chair and slammed the lid shut when the loud intercom buzzer sounded. The nasally voice of Valerie the receptionist announced, “Mr. Jenkins, you have a phone call.”

“Take a message!” he shouted, more in fear than in anger.

There was a pause. He felt a pang of regret. Softer he said, “Sorry Val, I’m very tired from the trip could you take a message please.”

A hurt voice came through and said, “It’s about your luggage.”

“I’m sorry Val, really. Of course I’ll take it.”

He picked up the phone and pressed the blinking light.

“Hello.”

“Mr. Eric Jenkins?” A gravelly voice asked.

“Yes?”

“I have your bag.”

Eric started to mouth the words “thank you,” but the voice continued.

“I have the bag, and your wife.”