Not on My Bucket List by Tom Monroe

Not on My Bucket List by Tom Monroe

Author:Tom Monroe [Munroe, Tom]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: JMS Books LLC
Published: 2018-12-10T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 6: Where Do We Go From Here?

“Attention, ladies and gentlemen. Please fasten your seat belts, as we are beginning our descent to Montreal. We hope you have had a pleasant flight.”

I had survived my week alone in Algiers. After going out one morning for a walk, I decided I wasn’t comfortable leaving the apartment. I didn’t speak the language. What if there was some kind of altercation with someone on the street? I wouldn’t be able to explain myself to any policeman, or anyone else for that matter. How would I answer if the police asked what I was doing in Algeria? What if I locked myself out of the apartment? The contact for the place had spoken only French; Amir had handled that. I had the marvelous view of the harbor with its hard-working little tug nudging in the big ships. I had brought a book to read. I had brought my Spanish textbook and worked hard on that. There were hundreds of channels on the cable TV, and I found one that had opera. I lost that channel after three days, and then was left only with informercials for German beer bands. There were news channels, but I didn’t want to hear about the trouble back in the States in Charlottesville. But I sometimes watched the BBC just to hear someone talking in English.

There was no call from Amir. My phone had been rather undependable since I had arrived. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn’t. I began to have a panic attack about how I would get back to the airport if for some reason he didn’t return. There was a phone book and visitor guide sitting next to the TV. I picked it up and looked at it. It was, of course, all in French, but I looked through the restaurant ads hoping for something about taxi service. There was nothing. I looked at the map. All the street names were in French. I wasn’t even sure I could figure out exactly where I was. I decided the only thing to do would be to walk down along the shore and find where most of the hotels were. I should be able to catch a cab there. That would mean going out alone with my two bags. And I would have to figure out a way to turn in the apartment keys first. If my phone didn’t work, that would be impossible.

Finally, on Wednesday, I tried to call Amir. To my great surprise, he answered.

“Why are you calling me?” he asked. “Are you alright?”

“I just had to talk to you about getting to the airport and all,” I said.

“Not worry. I told you I would come back to take you to the airport. Unless you do not want me to come back?”

“Of course I want you to come back. I’m not sure I could do it by myself. Then there’s the matter of turning the keys in. I did not meet the man. You handled that.



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