Finally
Finally By Yonga Jizana
“Your flight boards at gate A2, at half past eleven. Have a safe flight, ma’am.” I wedge my ticket between my latest copy of GQ, gently toss my burgundy two strap handbag over my shoulder, and flash my whites from behind my matte Ruby Woo’d lips. “Thank you, Alisha.” The airport looks pretty full considering it's the evening. Last domestic flights swarm in and there is a rush of men in black suits, and women click-clacking in their stilettos. My nerves have been driving me crazy. I have no idea how I haven't digested food throughout this rainy day. Argh, a cappuccino should do. Taking a rather lengthy stroll in my Nikes, I head over to Mugg&Bean, mount myself onto their leather counter stool, and prop my handbag onto the counter. “What can I get for you ma’am?” “Hi. An easy cappuccino please.” “Okay, coming right up.” The swooshing sound of the coffee machine fades away as my mind wanders off. I see a little girl pushing a luggage trolley as she waddles in front of her father who helps her push it slowly. It takes me back to my toddler days visiting my father over weekends. He's telling my happy naïve self that we're going for a drive. In the car, he places me on his lap and my tiny hands grasp the ten o'clock and two o'clock points of the steering wheel. This is an achievement for myself. I can drive. The car probably moved about eight metres or so, but the fact that those wheels rotated a couple of times is surety for my over-achieving self. I smile and giggle at the fact that I was believably able to achieve such greatness. “That will be nineteen rand ninety.” The waiter slides the black studded takeaway cup over to me as I place my last twenty rand note onto the counter. “Thank you” I help myself to a plastic lid for my cup, and seal the hot beverage. A beeping sound comes from the depths of my handbag. I yank my phone out from the tangled earphones. It's a FaceTime call from my boyfriend. We've been together since I was twenty one. Even now, nine years later, we still stick to our rule – when apart, one of us has to call before heading to bed. “Hey lover.” “Hey baby. When are you boarding?” “Twenty minutes. I'm sitting at Mugg, squeezing in a cuppa.” I flash my cup in front of the camera. “That's pretty soon hey.” I nod, and smile. “I've got a meeting tomorrow morning at eight, then guest lecturing at about 3.” “Oh?. All the best with that, baby.” “I can't believe the big move is happening. Finally.” I use my free hand to pick up a serviette as I begin to sniff. “You're going to make me cry. Shhhh.” I hold the now scrunched serviette to my nose to block it from running.
“It's all going to be final when you join me next month.” “And it's all we have ever spoke pen about for the past eight years. This is it, baby.“ “It's our dream, lover.” “Have a pleasant flight. Try not to overthink the distance. Don't think about it as how long we'll be apart. Rather look at it as us being a day closer to being together. I love you, my heart.” My heavy hearted, yet brave self smiles and then let's out a sigh “… I love you too. Always. All ways.” Our lips meet virtually as we both lean into our gadgets. Black eyelinered streaks cover my cheeks and meet at my chin. Wiping my tears off, I take one last look at my phone the begin to type: ‘All is well at the airport, and I board in a few minutes. I am eternally grateful for the blessings I still continue to receive as I prepare for this chapter of my life. I’ll call as soon as I land. I love you.’ I add both my parents as message recipients, turn my phone off, and slide it into my handbag. My dangling feet make contact with the floor as I leave the now empty cup on the counter. “Thanks again,” I call to the waiter. “Only a pleasure.” Letting the last remaining minutes of my wait pass by, I head to the restroom. I dig into my handbag and pull out the black bullet shaped MAC lipstick. The Ruby Woo red I have been loyal to for years glides over my haven't-been-kissed-since-this-evening lips. I smack them, pucker, and smile. The lukewarm water running from the sensor tap warms my hands. I shake them off and pat them dry on my black jeans. Habitually tossing my handbag over my shoulder, I grab my magazine, make leeway for an elderly woman, and head out. “Flight 50214 to New York is now boarding at gate A2.” Finally. Okay. I'm really trying not to panic… How did this day arrive so quickly? It was literally just conversation the one minute, and the next, I'm here. I'm moving to New York. I'm actually going to live there. As a creative director… At GQ magazine… In New York. Damn, life is good! “Your passport please ma’am” “Oh, yes. Sorry” I open the magazine and hand the dolled up lady the necessary documents. “Thank you, and have a safe flight.” “Believe that I most definitely will. Thank you.”
“Your flight boards at gate A2, at half past eleven. Have a safe flight, ma’am.” I wedge my ticket between my latest copy of GQ, gently toss my burgundy two strap handbag over my shoulder, and flash my whites from behind my matte Ruby Woo’d lips. “Thank you, Alisha.” The airport looks pretty full considering it's the evening. Last domestic flights swarm in and there is a rush of men in black suits, and women click-clacking in their stilettos. My nerves have been driving me crazy. I have no idea how I haven't digested food throughout this rainy day. Argh, a cappuccino should do. Taking a rather lengthy stroll in my Nikes, I head over to Mugg&Bean, mount myself onto their leather counter stool, and prop my handbag onto the counter. “What can I get for you ma’am?” “Hi. An easy cappuccino please.” “Okay, coming right up.” The swooshing sound of the coffee machine fades away as my mind wanders off. I see a little girl pushing a luggage trolley as she waddles in front of her father who helps her push it slowly. It takes me back to my toddler days visiting my father over weekends. He's telling my happy naïve self that we're going for a drive. In the car, he places me on his lap and my tiny hands grasp the ten o'clock and two o'clock points of the steering wheel. This is an achievement for myself. I can drive. The car probably moved about eight metres or so, but the fact that those wheels rotated a couple of times is surety for my over-achieving self. I smile and giggle at the fact that I was believably able to achieve such greatness. “That will be nineteen rand ninety.” The waiter slides the black studded takeaway cup over to me as I place my last twenty rand note onto the counter. “Thank you” I help myself to a plastic lid for my cup, and seal the hot beverage. A beeping sound comes from the depths of my handbag. I yank my phone out from the tangled earphones. It's a FaceTime call from my boyfriend. We've been together since I was twenty one. Even now, nine years later, we still stick to our rule – when apart, one of us has to call before heading to bed. “Hey lover.” “Hey baby. When are you boarding?” “Twenty minutes. I'm sitting at Mugg, squeezing in a cuppa.” I flash my cup in front of the camera. “That's pretty soon hey.” I nod, and smile. “I've got a meeting tomorrow morning at eight, then guest lecturing at about 3.” “Oh?. All the best with that, baby.” “I can't believe the big move is happening. Finally.” I use my free hand to pick up a serviette as I begin to sniff. “You're going to make me cry. Shhhh.” I hold the now scrunched serviette to my nose to block it from running.
“It's all going to be final when you join me next month.” “And it's all we have ever spoke pen about for the past eight years. This is it, baby.“ “It's our dream, lover.” “Have a pleasant flight. Try not to overthink the distance. Don't think about it as how long we'll be apart. Rather look at it as us being a day closer to being together. I love you, my heart.” My heavy hearted, yet brave self smiles and then let's out a sigh “… I love you too. Always. All ways.” Our lips meet virtually as we both lean into our gadgets. Black eyelinered streaks cover my cheeks and meet at my chin. Wiping my tears off, I take one last look at my phone the begin to type: ‘All is well at the airport, and I board in a few minutes. I am eternally grateful for the blessings I still continue to receive as I prepare for this chapter of my life. I’ll call as soon as I land. I love you.’ I add both my parents as message recipients, turn my phone off, and slide it into my handbag. My dangling feet make contact with the floor as I leave the now empty cup on the counter. “Thanks again,” I call to the waiter. “Only a pleasure.” Letting the last remaining minutes of my wait pass by, I head to the restroom. I dig into my handbag and pull out the black bullet shaped MAC lipstick. The Ruby Woo red I have been loyal to for years glides over my haven't-been-kissed-since-this-evening lips. I smack them, pucker, and smile. The lukewarm water running from the sensor tap warms my hands. I shake them off and pat them dry on my black jeans. Habitually tossing my handbag over my shoulder, I grab my magazine, make leeway for an elderly woman, and head out. “Flight 50214 to New York is now boarding at gate A2.” Finally. Okay. I'm really trying not to panic… How did this day arrive so quickly? It was literally just conversation the one minute, and the next, I'm here. I'm moving to New York. I'm actually going to live there. As a creative director… At GQ magazine… In New York. Damn, life is good! “Your passport please ma’am” “Oh, yes. Sorry” I open the magazine and hand the dolled up lady the necessary documents. “Thank you, and have a safe flight.” “Believe that I most definitely will. Thank you.”
