27. Benji

BENJI

“Look out! There’s a dump of snow!” I screamed to Maggie, pointing at a mound of snow on the road ahead that had obviously been churned up by a heavy vehicle, creating an obstacle for us to plow straight into.

Channeling her inner Steve McQueen, Maggie veered left then right, skidding around the mound and sending shards of snow and ice into the air. She pushed the accelerator to the floor as we cleared another rise, and up ahead Eau Claire came into view.

“The airport’s only two miles away!” exclaimed Connie as we zoomed past another sign.

“Mom, what’s the update from Plane Tracker?”

“It says the flight is closed. No wait! Oh my God, it’s pulling away from the gate!”

“Fuck!” I breathed. “I’ve lost him.”

“Not yet you haven’t,” said Maggie, spinning the wheel hard and sliding onto the road to the airport.

“One mile to go!” shouted Connie.

I caught the crazy glint in Maggie’s eye. “Maggie, what are you doing? The flight’s leaving.”

“It hasn’t left yet.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying we’re gonna stop that plane.”

“How?” shrieked my mother.

“I don’t know,” shrugged Maggie. “I’m making this up as I go!”

“There’s the terminal.” Dad pointed. “I see the terminal!”

We all saw the terminal—for a split second—before it slid by in a blur as Maggie flew straight past it.

“Maggie! You missed the terminal!” Dad panicked.

Maggie glanced in the rear-view mirror. “I hate to tell you this Mr. L, but we ain’t stopping this plane by standing in line at the service desk.”

“How are we stopping this plane?” I asked.

Maggie looked ahead at the wire fence that ran along the perimeter of the airport, then spotted a padlocked gate that led straight onto the tarmac—a gate with a big sign that read, Restricted Area. No Access. She turned the wheel.

“Oh shit,” I whispered.

Maggie aimed the car straight for the gate.

From the back seat, Mom waggled her finger manically as though trying to shoo the gate out of our way. “Maggie! There’s a gate ahead! It says ‘No Access!’”

In a giddy flashback, Aunt Nancy’s words suddenly swirled through my head— break rules, push open gates, do whatever it takes to hold onto love.

“Yep, that’s a gate all right,” I said to everyone in the car. “And we’re going straight through it!”

Connie howled with delight. “Yes, Cuz! Let’s do this!”

Mom clung to Dad. “Oh darling, brace yourself… just like I tell you to do in the Octopus Trap!”

Maggie tightened her grip on the wheel. “Ladies and gentlemen, in the unlikely event of an emergency, hold onto your asses!”

The car hurtled toward the gate.

Mom and Dad screamed in fear.

Connie screamed with excitement.

I grabbed the gear stick and shoved the car into top gear. “Do it, Maggie! Bust that fucking gate wide open!”

And bust it wide open she did.

In the next moment there was an almighty CRASH! followed by a Whoop! Whoop! Whoop! as the gates flew off their hinges and spun through the air, landing in twisted wrecks on the ground.

The Chevy careened onto the tarmac.

At the same time, Bastian’s taxiing plane came into view.

“That’s it! That’s his plane!” I shouted.

The Chevy moved at breakneck speed across the tarmac in pursuit of the plane as it turned to face the runway for take-off.

“Oh my God!” my mother wailed. “We’re all going to go to jail! I don’t wanna spend Christmas Day in jail. I haven’t even finished blanching the asparagus!”

“It’s okay, Aunt Lonnie,” said Connie. “Sometimes sacrifices need to be made. We’re doing this for Buddha.”

“I thought we were doing this for Benji,” Dad said.

“Oh, him too.”

Maggie turned the wheel, and the Chevy skidded alongside the plane just as it began its way down the runway.

From the hangars lined up alongside the terminal, I saw the flashing red and blue lights of emergency vehicles—security cars, fire trucks, ambulances—all speeding toward us.

“Oh, I think Mom’s right. We’re definitely going to jail.”

Maggie continued racing alongside the accelerating aircraft. “Not till we get that boyfriend of yours off that plane!”