We’re at the airport with A.’s parents and another couple, A.’s parent’s friends. We’re all headed back to Vermont.
S. has helped his friend get his (the friend’s) plane ready and now they’re taxing out of the hangar and onto the runway, and about to take off.
A. is retraining H. (who wants to touch every airplane) and I am helping S. to load his plane. There is just the one combined bag for both S. and C., so it isn’t much. They’re about to get in and S. asks Where’s my jacket? I run back into their house (which is in the hangar) and look around. I am not sure which one he means, so I grab the two that I can find. And two of A.’s coats. And about five jackets for H. I run back out to the plane. Which one?
S.: That one. Pointing to both, he puts both jackets on.
A.: All of them. She grabs all of the other coats.
S. and C. pile into their plane and start to taxi. We don’t all fit in that plane. S. rolls down the window: Ask him–he says, pointing to a man in a reflective orange vest–he can help you find a plane you can borrow.